#when i come up with anything for once anyone and everyone must be aware

[girltheftauto]

Anndddddddd this is my casting of San Andreas characters as littlest pet shops. More to come 💋

[mrfoox]

Why do i feel like im breaking 35 rules when I ask my friends if they want to spend time with me?

[pomefioredove]

Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome

of course of course!

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: a kalim ending type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)

"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"

"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"

Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).

He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.

Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.

First, he had to get you.

Then, he had to show you around your new place.

Then, dinner.

Followed by dessert, of course.

(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)

And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.

So on, and so forth.

Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.

The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.

Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.

If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:

"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"

More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.

Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?

And his answer would be... well... no.

Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.

A bond.

Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.

Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?

(That's how he saw it, anyway).

So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.

"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"

You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"

Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.

"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"

You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"

"But... good, right?"

"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."

"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"

He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.

"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"

"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."

That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.

"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"

"No, I meant like, work,"

Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"

You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.

"You know... to earn my keep,"

"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"

Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.

And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.

"Alright, then,"

"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"

[mischievousmoony]

𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑… 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 (𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝)

⟢ poly!marauders x fem!reader (initial wolfstar & lily x reader)

⟢ summary: james is the sun, the center of the universe, of course when you realize how brightly he shines you can't help but fight over him. it comes unexpectedly, the way it brings you all together . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁3.6k

⟢ warnings/tags: suggestive content/mature themes, hogwarts is a university these characters are in their 20s, poly!marauders, confident!reader, not proofread

⟢ masterlist

note: the dialogue is cringe i fear... this is another one i wrote for fun in the notes app before i started being active on here again

At first, James thought it was jealousy. When he saw you kiss Lily goodbye at the portrait hole, he felt it for the first time. He couldn’t really tell who he felt it for, though. But then he felt it again, this time when he found Remus and Sirius cuddling in their shared dorm, and he’d chalked it up to being jealous that his friends were in happy relationships whilst he was alone. 

He tried flirting with other people, thinking a relationship of his own would cure these feelings. In his endeavors, James found that flirting was something he’s actually quite good at. But when he was on the receiving end of flirtatious remarks, he noticed his stomach never flipped the way it did for his friends, and all they had to do was say ‘hello’ to make it happen. He even tried to go on a date, but he found himself itching to be back at Gryffindor Tower where you lot were hanging out. 

So, James decided to face the facts. He has a crush… or four, he supposes. But it’s not like romance between him and his friends is unheard of. Other students around Hogwarts used to poke fun at you all for the inter friend group dating, accusing you of things like passing each other around for the fun of it. 

Someone once told Sirius he couldn’t escape the incestuous nature of his family, and that’s when the boys started hexing anyone who made any sort of joke on the topic. Soon enough, people learned to keep their mouths shut. 

But it wasn’t what other students made it seem. You all may have been perceived as a lascivious bunch who couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, but there were deep emotions between some of you that surpassed mere physical attraction. 

James probably had one of the most tame histories, save for Peter, who managed to find a girlfriend outside of the group. In James’ past, there was casual fling with Lily, which both parties wanted to be more, yet neither ever had the courage to say it. The relationship ended when they both inwardly thought they’d be better off letting go than silently yearning for more. Aside from that, James had managed to kiss each of you some way or another, whether it be via drinking games or experimental fun.

As for the rest of you, let’s just say you all did a bit more than kiss some of the other members in your group before you all coupled off. 

You, for example, have dabbled in romance with both Sirius and Remus at different points in time. There was a frenzied night with Remus that had you both longing for more, yet never acting on it. And there was a time where everyone thought you and Sirius would end up together. The tension between you two was once so palpable it pervaded your every interaction and shrouded your awareness of anything but each other. It fizzled after a while of neither of you ever making a real move, but sometimes you both feel it creep back into your conversations like an addiction you couldn’t shake. 

Lily and Remus also had a history. They were together for a while, a saccharine relationship that made those around them equally jealous as they were nauseous. Eventually, they broke it off because they couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. They theorized that they must be better off as friends, but what could’ve been still seems to loom over them. 

And James doesn’t know this, if he found out now he might disintegrate on the spot, but everyone’s fancied him at some point. But there’s something about Potters and their tendency to be oblivious. Everyone’s tried to get out of James’ friend zone and it went quite unnoticed. Lily was the only one who’s ever succeeded, and yet, they let each other become their ones that got away. 

It might be a good thing that James never knew about his friends’ crushes. He probably would’ve turned most of you down, depending on the timing. And that would’ve haunted him now. He already has to deal with the pining and the nerves and the misery of it all. Regret added to that mix would send him over the edge. 

After all, the minute you all walk into the common room his heart is already racing with nerves. 

First came Remus and Sirius, Remus having his arm slung across Sirius’ shoulders. Sirius’ walk is an odd looking shuffle due to the way he presses himself into his boyfriend’s side. 

There’s the pining. James wishes he could be sandwiched between them. He imagines shuffling along, like Sirius, and watching the pace of their footsteps sync up. 

Next, James sees Lily. Beaming, as always. She has a firm grip on your hand as she tows you in after her. You two are giggling about something and James swears he’s never heard anything more beautiful than the way your laughters intertwine. He’d give anything to be included in whatever you two were so charmed by. 

“Hey, Prongs,” Remus greets as they sit on the sofa next to him. Remus’ knees knock against James’. James doesn’t want to think about how much it affects him. 

“Hi Jamie,” you say in a sing song voice, passing in front of him as Lily leads you to sit on the armchair with her. The two of you might as well be on top of each other when you get situated, your legs twisted together.

James shifts in his seat, “Hi,” he rasps, then clears his throat, “Hi guys.” 

“What are you up to?” Lily bats her beautiful, long eyelashes at James.

James picks up a book Peter left on the end table next to him, “Studying,” he lies. What he was really doing was thinking about all of you. He couldn’t exactly disclose that, now could he? 

Lily’s eyes dart down to the cover of the book, “Advanced History of Magic?”

“I thought you dropped that after OWLs?” You wonder aloud. 

James presses his lips into a line while he tries to think of what to say, “Yeah, I, er- I’m not studying for class. I’m studying for pleasure. History is a very important subject.” James internally groans. He curses Peter in his mind for not leaving a better book behind. 

The couples around him seem to share skeptical glances that make James want to walk into the Black Lake, lie down, and drown there. 

James' next words tumble out like a torrent, “It’s actually Peter’s. He was telling me something interesting from his class. Wanted to read up on it myself. Anyway, I should go return this to him. Cheers, guys.”

Before anyone can say anything, James is already speeding off with the book. 

Oh, the misery. James hates how awkward things have become. He’s not usually an awkward person, but being around all four people he’s crushing on is overwhelming, even for him. 

Somewhere in Hogwarts’ halls, James leans against one of the cold stone walls and hugs Peter’s book to his chest. 

What is wrong with me, he thinks. And then he gets a tad arrogant, I’m James Potter! I can handle anything. Even having a thing for my best friends. 

James decides right then and there that he doesn’t want to feel like such a mess anymore. It’s time for a different approach. 

The next time he sees one of you, he thinks to himself, you know how to be confident, James, you’ve done it before. And so he puts on his best act. 

But for some reason, acting confident translated into constantly flirting with all of his friends. He really had no intention of doing that, it’s not like he actually wanted to get with any of you. He’d never want to try to interfere in your relationships. But for some reason, as his words tumbled out with amorous undertones and romantic implications, the negative emotions tumbled away too. So he kind of just kept doing it. 

From then on, your interactions with James have gone much more smoothly. Admittedly, they were also much more intoxicating. 

One day after Quidditch practice, James finds you and Lily wrapped up in each other’s arms on the sofa. Your arms are around Lily’s waist as you both watch the crackle of the fireplace before you. The sofa’s back cushions lay strewn across the floor to accommodate the space the two of you take up. 

With a grin fitting his face, James approaches the sofa. 

“Hey,” he calls on his approach. The two of you shift onto your backs to look in the direction of James’ voice behind you. When he arrives, he leans his forearms on the back of the sofa, one folded over the other, and hovers above you two, “Lily, Y/N.” He greets. 

“Hi James,” Lily says on behalf of you both. 

James eyes leisurely drift along the length of the couch and back up again, “Don’t you two look cozy.”

“Sure are,” Lily grins lazily, “If there were any more room on here we’d invite you to join,” your girlfriend jokes. 

“That’s alright, doll,” James says with a lopsided smile. He then leans in closer to you, and you notice the sparkling reflection of the firelight in his eyes. He lowers his voice to a whisper as if he’s telling you a secret, “Next time.” His voice comes out like silk and his eye contact is unwavering. You find it too intoxicating to even blink.

Your lips part slightly, and you can hear Lily’s breath get caught in her throat. It was just two words, it really shouldn’t have affected you two so much. Maybe it’s the way he said them… or maybe it’s just James. James, whose tousled hair is sticking to his forehead still from a strenuous practice and whose lips are only centimeters away. 

A moment of silence passes between you three before James straightens out his spine, standing with his hands resting where his forearms previously were. 

His fingers pitter patter against the sofa back, “I’m off to shower…” James says, “Save me a seat at dinner?”

Without waiting for a reply, James walks towards the boys dormitories. You both watch James disappear up the stairs. When you look at Lily, you find her face flushed. You wiggle your eyebrows and she slaps you on the arm, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. Her hand lingers, then trails down to fit into yours. She discovers a sweaty palm, and now she’s the one raising her eyebrows. 

A few days later, Remus and Sirius find themselves in a similar situation. 

The three Marauders found themselves running for their lives from Filch after attempting to pull a prank without their fourth, who had to bail last minute. They had to rethink the plan on the spot without the extra set of hands, and found themselves nearly getting caught. 

Luckily, Remus knew this area of the castle intimately from his prefects rounds, and found them a room to hide in. 

The boys tumble inside. Sirius and James find themselves with their backs to the nearest wall, both heaving to catch their breaths. Remus locks the door behind them, and releases a shocked laugh as he backs into the room. 

“Quick thinking, Rem. I wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve.” James says, his tone suggestive. 

“Oi!” Sirius exclaims while Remus flushes. Sirius looks a bit amused, but still feels a bit territorial too. 

James swivels to face Sirius, his body not coming out of contact with the wall. He leans his forearm on the stones above Sirius’ head. Being a bit shorter, Sirius has to look up at James as he leans in ever so slightly, “Don’t worry, Sirius. I find your secrets just as intriguing.” 

Territorial feelings cured. Sirius tries to place the feelings that replaced them and… oh. His head snaps towards his boyfriend, who looks downright besotted with the display in front of him. 

James maintains eye contact and a confident smirk as lets his arm slide down the wall until his palm is flat against it, level with Sirius’ head. He gives the wall a gently pat, then abruptly turns away. 

He takes a single step towards Remus, “I have a sneaking suspicion Filch is still lurking in the area. I’ve got the cloak, so I’m off to be your knight in shining armor and cause a distraction.” James winks, and then he’s out the door. 

The pair of boys that were left behind watch the door thoughtfully for a few moments. 

Sirius’ tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he prepares himself to make a bold suggestion. 

“Hey Moony?” he asks. 

“Yeah?” Remus responds breathlessly. 

“Hear me out about something…” Sirius trails off, still looking in the direction James left in. 

A week later, you and Lily enter the common room in search of your messy-haired friend. He spots you two before either of you find him. 

“If it isn’t my favorite girls,” James waves you both over to where he is seated, which is a small table by the window. Remus and Sirius, who look a bit peeved to have James’ attention drawn away from them, are sitting across from him. 

“What brings you here?” James asks when you arrive at his side, “It’s date night, if I’m not mistaken, isn’t it?” 

You share a look with Lily, “Yes, actually, we’re just about to head off to Hogsmeade.” 

Lily rests a hand on James’ shoulder, “But we were thinking… we’d love it if you’d join us.” 

While the confusion on James’ face starts to soften into understanding, Sirius chokes on his own spit. His voice is strained as he holds back from coughing, “James is busy.”

Your eyes dart to Sirius, “Is he?” then back to James. “Couldn’t you make some time?” You bat your eyes at him. 

Sirius looks horrified, “We have some— Marauders only!— business to attend to. James was just about to accept our invitation, isn’t that right, Prongs?”

“Uhh, I-” James sputters, wildly taken aback by what’s happening. What is happening? 

“Well why don’t you two just invite Peter,” you suggest callously as Lily’s grip on James’ shoulder turns possessive. 

“This isn’t the kind of business we want to invite Peter to. We want James.” Sirius’ eyes narrow. 

You furrow your brows at Sirius’ words and it takes a moment for the meaning of them to sink in. Your features harden as Sirius and Remus suddenly go from friends to competitors. 

“Well I guess you’re out of luck, then.” You say, squinting down at Sirius, “I think James is going to want to come with us.”

Sirius didn’t much like the way you looked down on him, so he brought himself up to his feet where he could tower over you. 

“It’s cute that you think so, but we’re closer to James than anyone. James is our best friend.”

“And I think it’ll be staying that way.” 

“I beg to differ.” Sirius counters, his tone laced with arrogance. 

James’ jaw goes slack at the implication.

“If you're going to beg I prefer that you get on your knees first.” Your voice is dripping with mockery, challenge, and something else that takes everyone a moment to decipher. 

It’s something familiar, a certain tension that’s proving once again to have never fully gone away. It flashes in Sirius’ eyes too, his fiery gaze wavering to give way for a fervent expression. 

The sudden shift in tone sent an electric shock through the three onlookers, James’ jaw dropping impossibly lower.

“Trust me, doll. Where I’m involved, I’m not the one who’s gonna be begging on their knees.” 

Remus somehow looks like he’s enjoying this, which should be unusual for a guy watching his boyfriend flirt with someone else. He’s leaned back in his seat, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips, as his eyes dart between each of his friends. 

“What’s happening,” James chokes out, the nerves he expelled weeks ago suddenly bubbling back up again. 

No one answers James. Remus is having too much fun and you are too busy staring down Sirius. Lily joins you, inching closer to both you and him as she leans over your shoulder, her body pressing into your back. 

“Oh, he’s lying, don’t you think?” She says, her voice velvety smooth. 

“Certainly so. I have it on good authority that he’s the type to want to be in charge,” you jut your chin toward Remus, whose gaze you meet while memories of each other swirl around in your minds, bringing matching twinkles to your eyes. 

“Can-? Can I interject?” James takes a shot at cutting through the tension, his voice cracking.  

“Of course, Jamie,” you turn your head from Sirius to look at him but a soft hand pinching your chin gently turns you right back. 

“Eyes on me, dollface, I’m not done with you,” Sirius says firmly, as if proving how commanding he can be. 

A choked noise emits from James’ throat and it’s not clear if it’s in protest of being cast aside again or a direct reaction to the way Sirius is handling you. 

Remus inches his hand towards James’, bumping his pinky into his. “Sit tight, I want to see where this goes,” he tells him. 

“See? So effortlessly commanding,” you vocalize to Lily, a hungry look in your eyes as they flick to Remus. 

Sirius’ possessive nature flares up. “This has been real cute, but you can you can back off of them now,” Sirius say, referring to both his boyfriend and James. 

Your eyes dart back to Sirius and that hungry sort of look doesn’t falter, “Want me to focus on you, do you? Ddon’t worry, baby, I can multitask.”

“Let's cut to the chase, are you two about to fight or kiss?” James defies Remus’ command to sit tight, suddenly speaking boldly, regaining his confidence from either sheer will or impatience, “Either is fine, I suppose, as long as you continue to let me watch.”

“I second that,” Remus agrees at once. 

“Third,” Lily chimes in, “though I’d prefer to see the ladder.” 

As James words sink in, it brings you back down to reality, that familiar veil of tension that shrouds your better judgment lifting. 

Worry filters in first, your actions suddenly feeling inappropriate. That they were, but you’re less worried about the nature of your actions and more so the fact that you behaved in such away with someone else right in front of your girlfriend. When you look at her, you’re met with a sly countenance that reminds you she was an active participant. 

You’re not the only one having inner turmoil after the racy display, a silence that’s tense for different reasons washing over you all. Everyone seems to be contemplating the implications of what just happened and how you all so fondly reacted to it. 

Lily is the one to cut through the silence first. 

“You know… I wouldn’t mind if all three of you joined us,” Lily tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as she asks “Do you, Lovie?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all,” your words coming out like a plea when you respond. 

Remus carefully stands from his seat, approaching Sirius with revere and settling his arm across his shoulder. His free hand extends to you, which you take without hesitation. His tender touch sends shivers up your spine. 

Your four sets of eyes drift to James, who’s still in his seat trying to process what’s going on. When it sinks that this is real life, he looks back at you all like you’re a newfound treasure. 

It’s instant, the way the feelings that never went away metamorphosize into something beautiful and new. And it’s an adjustment, for sure, but you all lean into it with surprising ease. 

The rumors fly, of course, when your peers start to take notice of the way things have changed. No amount of previous hexing scares them away from jumping to their conclusions and spreading their rumors. This time around, you’re all too enamored with each other to care much about what people say, but you do find it pitiful that they could never understand. But some witnesses to the loving little touches and soft remarks between each of you and all of you find that it makes sense now—all of you were destined from the start. 

For you have always been drawn to each other. It’s why you constantly gravitated from one to the next, the pull from those you left behind never really going away. 

It feels like a dream the way you all settle back into place with each other. James looks at you all in disbelief everyday. He couldn't have imagined a more perfect solution to his previously helpless pining.

You're quite pleased as well, the longing for what you never had with each of your boys finally resolved.

And Lily and Remus share a look some days, eyes twinkling, finding comfort in knowing now what their missing piece was. Or rather, pieces. 

“Well, I think I can pinpoint now why all of our relationships kept not working out,” Lily tells him once, in the very beginning. You’re all strolling around outdoors, basking in the sun, still shyly navigating through the newness of it all. 

The knuckles of your left hand fondly brush against those on James’ right. Lily walks alongside you, Remus on the end next to her. And Sirius has fallen behind purposefully, admiring the way the four of you look together. 

“Why’s that, Dove?” Remus asks. 

“Greed,” Sirius interjects, an impish grin dances on his lips as he jogs up to join you all again. He squeezes between you and Lily, slinging his arms around you both.

Sirius nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, “But who’s to say we can’t have it all?” 

[loveinhawkins]

was this written to solve my own inconsistencies because i keep forgetting Eddie literally hotwired the RV, they don’t need keys, why do you keep mentioning keys, you fool? maybe. do i also think they’d be this stupid? yes. ❤️

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Dustin says, midway to The War Zone.

Steve, who is used to this sort of outburst for things as mild as Dustin forgetting just one out of the eight pens on his person, does not react.

However Eddie—Hellfire rants aside—is not quite as familiar yet. He jumps practically a foot in the air.

“Jesus Christ, what now?”

All Dustin offers by way of explanation is an accusatory, “You,” pointing his finger right in Eddie’s face.

And then Eddie sees what’s dangling from said finger.

“… Oh.”

“What?” Steve says, glancing at the rearview mirror; Eddie quickly blocks Dustin from view, goes right up on his tiptoes and spreads his arms wide, curses when Dustin throws the keys—

—to Max, who catches them one-handed, who gives Eddie a grin that’s not so much pitying as it is evil, and then she—

—throws them to Lucas, and he somehow gets the metal ring to land on his finger, like he’s in a movie, and he twirls them round and round until Max snorts, and he grins like that had been his aim all along.

“Sinclair,” Eddie says, “I am begging you.”

“I’m not hearing much about what’s in it for him,” Erica says.

Aha! Eddie zeroes in on Erica and blocks her from Lucas, like a very unjust game of Keep Away.

“Dude,” Lucas says, affronted, “that’s not fair.”

Eddie has the decency to look a bit ashamed. Not too ashamed to stop because he is a pathetic man, but at least Steve still hasn’t noticed the—

“Lucas,” Erica says, in the aggrieved tones of a sister who’s despaired at him many, many times. “You’re on the basketball team. Just do a pass fake, nerd.”

Lucas feigns to the left, and Eddie falls for it—but, in what he’s sure is a completely unsportsmanlike move, he uses his height to his advantage, jumps…

And drops the keys with a clatter.

Steve must instantly recognise the sound for what it is, because he starts to cackle.

Eddie’s only saving grace is that Steve is driving, so at least he can’t see—

“Eddie’s going, like, super red in the face right now,” Dustin narrates helpfully.

“Scarlet,” Lucas says.

“Vermillion,” Robin pipes up from the floor.

“Ooh,” Dustin, Lucas, and Max chorus, impressed. Jesus Christ, they almost harmonize.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve says dryly, “you fucking moron. How did you miss those, it’s not like you had literally anything else on your mind.”

“You’re a real gentleman, Harrington, anyone ever told you that?” Eddie says weakly.

“Maybe once or twice,” Steve says, drawing it out teasingly, as if he means not often enough.

“Well, at least we got on the road,” Nancy says. Her voice quivers like she’s trying not to laugh—perched on the table, eyes shining with amusement. “And it did look pretty cool, Eddie.”

Eddie thinks this is an incredibly generous assessment, considering his main thought while breaking into the RV had been don’t get stuck in the window, Jesus Christ.

And then… like, he didn’t expect Steve to actually come up and watch him hotwire the damn thing, like, with rapt attention, so close that Eddie was kinda concerned he’d electrocute himself instead. Honestly, it was a miracle he got the engine started.

“That’s sweet of you, Wheeler, but I’m self-aware.”

“Since when?” Erica says.

Underneath everyone’s laughter, Steve grins and says, “Hey, don’t worry, man.” He catches Eddie’s eye in the rearview mirror, winks. “It was an educational experience.”

“Oh, wow, your face is even redder.”

“Henderson, I’m gonna put those goddamn keys so far up your ass.”

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for Writing and Drawing Amputees: Bandaged Stumps

When writing and drawing amputee characters, unless your character only just lost their limb, they don't need to wear a bandage over their stumps.

to be clear, eda's depiction in the show was fine, since she'd only just lost her arm and went (presumably) without any medical attention, but because the show didn't have much time to show her afterwards, I've noticed a tendency of the fandom to draw her wearing the bandage permanently, so that's why I'm picking on her for my example lol.

It's a bit of a trope at this point, and I think it comes from one of a few different places:

Amputees do wear bandages on their stumps, but usually only for the first 6-12 weeks post-amputation, sometimes longer if the amputation was a result of a burn. It's possible people saw this though and assumed it was permanent.

Most amputees wear a sock made of either cotton or silicone under their prosthetics to provide them with some extra padding. These socks, called liners, often stick out from the top of the prosthetic socket and could possibly be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

Some amputees will wear compression garments for a few months to a few years after their amputations which could also be mistaken for a bandage from a distance. These garments are designed to stop swelling and reduce phantom pain, but they aren't bandages.

Stumps get cold easier because their circulation typically isn't as good as the rest of the body, so some amputees will wear socks over them even if they aren't wearing a prosthetic to keep warm, which again could be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

This one is funny, but in my experience unfortunately, it's the most common: people think the end of an amputee's stump is just a perpetual open wound that never heals. Meaning to avoid "gore" it needs to be covered. I've met fully grown adults who believed this until I showed up to work/uni without my prosthetics or socks on.

People are uncomfortable with seeing an uncovered stump and so put bandages over it to avoid confronting their biases.

Some combination of these points.

But yeah, unless your amputee has only just lost their limb in the last few weeks, they don't need a bandage.

The ironic thing too, is that for most amputees, bandaging a stump is nearly impossible. I've been in and out of hospital since I was 1 year old and only ever met 3 nurses and no doctors/surgeons who could successfully bandage my stump in a way that the bandage would even stay on. This is because stumps are usually tapered in shape (meaning they are wider at the top, closer to the body, and thinner at the bottom), so gravity will pull the bandage off 9 times out of 10.

On a final note: it's ok to show your amputee's stump, it's not gore, there's no blood, it just looks like a regular limb that just stops early. In fact, if you are writing/creating anything for kids or that is likely to be seen by kids, I encourage you to show your amputee's stumps at least once. I used to work on a disability awareness program for kids, and I lost count of the amount of times kids were terrified of me, because they all expected my leg to be bloody and gory. For a lot of kids, I was their first real-life exposure to an amputee, meaning they'd never even heard of people like me, or they had seen an amputee on TV, but because the show went out of its way to avoid showing the person's stump, they assumed it must have been because there was "something scary at the end" that they weren't supposed to see (kids are surprisingly perceptive, they will pick up on stuff like that without you realising). And scared kids aren't good at articulating why they're scared, and would often say really mean or hurtful things to me. I knew not to take it personally and learned how to handle those situations, but not everyone is used to dealing with kids. For a new amputee (or anyone who's less confident in their disability), the kinds of things those kids would say could be absolutely confidence destroying. I never blame the kids, it's not their fault, but the whole situation could have been avoided if they had seen people like us before they had the chance to hear the wrong info. Good representation like this can be the difference between a kid crying, making throw-up sounds and calling an amputee "disgusting monsters" (all things I've had kids do/say) and them just being like "oh ok, cool."

[girlgenius1111]

learn your lesson

part 2 to worry about them

it appears that you haven't learned your lesson about training while sick, much to your teammates frustration. they are determined to get to the bottom of it.

platonic barca x reader

The team was confident that you'd learned your lesson. You waited as long as the doctor had told you to wait before returning, and once you promised everyone that you were feeling 100% better, they let you return to practice.

The issue was, you didn't feel completely better. Improved, yes. You likely needed a few more days rest. The doctor had cleared you though. The team needed you. Surely they couldn't be mad now. You weren't defying the doctor's orders, and you were well enough to practice, you thought.

You made it through one entire practice back, ignoring your teammates requests that you take it slow. You weren't weak. You were better now, you could handle this. Post training, though, you no longer felt better. In fact, you felt the worst you'd felt since falling ill. And, to top it all off, you weren't hiding it very well. You were sat on the bench in front of your locker, drinking water, pretty sure that if you stood, your legs would give out from under you. You planned to wait until the room stopped spinning, until your head stopped pounding, to shower. Hopefully, the locker room would be more cleared out by then.

You were really out of it, almost going limp into Ingrid's side when she came to stand next to you, studying you for a minute, before pulling you up and out of the locker room. She brought you into a recovery room down the hall, pushing you to sit in a chair. She felt your forehead, a disapproving look on her face already. You were delirious at this point, not really understanding what you were doing in this room when you were meant to be getting ready to go home.

"Need to shower," you grumbled, trying to force your eyes to focus on Ingrid, crouched in front of you. She ignored you, typing something on her phone.

"Ingrid, I need to shower," you tried again, attempting to stand. You sat back down when she glared at you.

"You need to get your temperature down. Y/n, you promised us that you were better. What were you thinking?"

"M'fine. M'not weak," you said tears gathering in your eyes. You needed her to know. When she didn't say anything, you continued. "Ingrid, I'm not weak, I made it through practice, I didn't let the team down," you insisted.

Ingrid looked heartbroken at your words, and you weren't quite sure why. You were still fighting to keep your eyes open, your head felt too heavy, and your body shook with chills. Ingrid disappeared briefly, as Alexia threw the door open thunderous expression on her face. Ingrid stopped her before she could begin scolding you, though.

"Ale, calm down first, she's really out of it," Ingrid murmured, nodding at you. Alexia was prepared to yell, but the sight of you, disoriented and tearful, took that urge away instantly.

"Nena," she sighed, moving closer.

You saw Alexia taking Ingrid's spot in front of you and realized she must have entered the room, not having heard the door open.

"Ale, I tried to do it all, I really did, I didn't mean to let you down," you cry. Alexia stood, pulling your seated form into a hug.

"No, nena, no, you didn't let anyone down, not at all. It's okay, it's all okay, lets just get you home." Alexia soothed, and you nod into her. She exchanges a troubled look with Ingrid, aware that something, though she wasn't quite sure what, was going on with you, and needed to be addressed.

-----

It's later that day when you wake up, actually aware of your surroundings this time. You have faint memories of coming home from practice, and Ingrid and Alexia getting you into bed, but that's pretty much where it ends. It's dark out, though, and a decent amount of time has clearly passed.

"Pequeña, how are you feeling?" Came a voice from the edge of the bed. Alexia was sitting there, looking down at you.

"Okay," you responded shakily. It was a lie, and you both knew it.

"Y/n." Alexia said warningly.

"Not great" you replied, and she nodded. You sat up, getting a grip on everything that didn't feel good, before Alexia began what you assumed to be the lecture to end all lectures.

"You had a really high fever after practice. You had no business training today, y/n, and we asked you, so many times, if you were up for it. I don't understand." Alexia said softly. You would have a expected a scolding tone to accompany these words, but Alexia was oozing kindness, softness, as if she just wanted to know what was going on with you.

You ignore her statement. "No overbearing teammates today? Just you?" You ask, referencing the lack of Lucy, Ingrid and Irene who had practically broken in when you'd gotten sick at first, and barely left until you were better.

Alexia shook her head. "No. I thought it would be better if we had this conversation just us."

"What conversation?" You asked hesitantly.

"Do you remember anything you said to Ingrid and me after training?" Alexia asked, instead of answering your question.

You shook your head. "Whatever I said, I was just out of it," you say, trying to take back whatever you had let slip.

"You kept saying that you weren't weak, that you'd finished training, and you had tried not to let the team down." Alexia stated, saying the words as though they physically caused her pain.

"Well. I did, didn't I. I tried not to let you guys down, it just didn't work. I wasn't strong enough." You reply miserably, looking out the window instead of at your captain.

"I don't understand where this is coming from. Have we made you feel like you would be letting us down if you were sick? Or that we'd think you weak if you couldn't play?" Alexia questioned.

"No one made me feel like that, Ale, that's just how it is."

"No. It isn't. None of us feel that way. We're upset because you trained sick, again. Not because you're still sick. Not because you didn't train the way you normally do."

You're quiet, and still won't meet her eyes. Alexia reached out, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

"Nena, I want to help, I want to understand. Can you try to explain to me what you were thinking?"

You can't. You have no explanation you want to give. All you want is to go back to sleep, but Alexia won't leave until she has some answers, that you know. Alexia switches tactics.

"What happened on your last team when you would get sick?" She asked carefully. Her perceptiveness shouldn't surprise you, but it always does.

"I would play." Your reply is automatic, and somewhat robotic.

"Even if you were really sick?"

You nod.

"Do you think that was okay? Them making you train when you were sick?" Alexia is filled with anger at the thought, of your previous coaches caring so little for your wellbeing, that they convinced you you needed to train, to put the team first.

"Alexia, I'm not weak. I can handle training while I'm sick, it's not that big of a deal. The team is the most important thing," you explain. It's about the 10th time you've said the words 'I'm not weak' today, and Alexia hates that you feel like you have to convince her of that. She hates everything about what you just said, really.

"The team is important, sí, but your health and safety are more important. You should not, under any circumstances, train when you are ill. Not with us, not with anyone. Do you understand?"

"But I'm just... me. The team is the team, how am I more important than the team?" you ask, voice cracking on the last word, finally looking up at Alexia with watery eyes. Your captain's face falls at your words, and you want to take back what you said.

Alexia takes a deep breath before speaking, as if calming herself down. "You are just you, and you matter to all of us. More than winning games. You are important, y/n. Your wellbeing is important. We just want you to be okay, that's all we really care about. Winning is good, obviously, but you are more important."

You aren't sure that you believe her, honestly. You want to, really, but you can't wrap your head around the idea that the team cares that much about you. No one ever really had before, and it was a strange, unsettling feeling. You were used to having to earn care, to only being acknowledged when you excelled at something. This wasn't the case at Barca, but you hadn't realized how deep that ran.

"Nena?" Alexia prompted. You weren't sure what she wanted you to say.

"I just don't want to let anyone down," you say brokenly, and Alexia sighs roughly, wrapping you in a tight hug.

"You aren't letting anyone down, pequeña, I promise you that." You allow yourself to take big, deep breaths, trying to quell the sobs that are threatening to break free. Alexia allows you to sit in silence for a minute, before speaking again, keeping you tight against her.

"I understand if you don't believe that yet. Some things run really deep, and it's hard to change them. We aren't going to give up though, alright? We aren't ever going to give up on you, no matter how long it takes to convince you. You're worth the trouble, y/n, try to remember that."

You nod against her, pulling away to wipe the tears off your face.

"Thank you, capi." You say quietly, not exactly sure you could put how thankful for her you were into words.

"Anything for you, pequeña. Anything."

-----

not too sure how i feel about this, hope no one hates it 🤞

[thepersialionheart]

My first and (probably) only headcanon for haikyuu is that no one can tell if Kageyama and Hinata are dating or not.

This is something which has most likely been said before but I still want to add onto it.

Are they Flirting or fighting? No one knows. There have definitely been fists involved and one time Ennoshita may have hallucinated when he heard Kageyama whisper that he was going to have his way with Hinata once they were alone. Maybe it just meant that they were going to fight more, that Kageyama was furious with Hinata and wanted to give him a piece of his mind, so the team were now all on watch duty until the end of the day, always making sure Hinata and Kageyama were never alone.

At the end of the day, before anyone could say anything, the two bolted out of the door and ran off without more than a quick "bye".

(They ignored the frustrated glares both Kageyama and Hinata gave them during the day. They definitely ignored the suspiciously placed bruises on each of their necks the next day. They must have fought a bit too much.)

A bet has been going round the Volleyball teams about whether or not they are together. A bet which Yachi and Kiyoko started amongst the Karasuno players and then the managers of other teams. Except, the players of their teams caught onto it and it has been going strong, even after Hinata went to Brazil. Especially after the Adlers vs Jackals match where most people decided against it.

(It is suspected that Yachi actually knows whether or not they are dating, but no one has gotten her to crack just yet. From the way she smirks whenever someone asks, no one will anytime soon.)

Oikawa is firmly against it, not because he doesn't believe they could ever be together, but because they are both idiots who don't know anything more than volleyball (and each other). Some agree with him.

Kenma is one of the ones who have put his money (and a lot of it) on them being together. There is too much chemistry between the two idiots that even they couldn't ignore.

There's another bet amongst the ones who bet for them being together. When they got together. Kenma says since the end of first year. He seems to know something the orhers don't know. Bokuto likes to think that they confessed just before Hinata went to Brazil and became long distance star crossed lovers. (Akaashi told him to stop being stupid (and then bet alongside Kenma)).

Surprisingly Tsukki is the one to bet on them being together since after the first training camp.

Yachi stayed out of this one. (She knew. She definitely knew.)

Yet even when Hinata and Kageyama become aware of the bets (actually they have been aware of them for years but they won't mention that just yet) they just shrug their shoulders and tells whoever is asking, "We're partners. Even when we're not on the same team."

Oikawa decided to shift his money to the other side, betting that they got together after the Adlers vs Jackals match.

But it was still unclear.

Even when Kageyama and Hinata moved in together, when people stayed over they thought it was just courtesy that one of them would give up their room and bunk with the other. Even when they touched or fought playfully, the others couldn't tell if that was actual affection or just Kageyama and Hinata being Kageyama and Hinata.

It took winning an olympic gold medal together for the truth to finally come out. After the Japan team won, everyone was on a high. In the heat of the moment, Hinata and Kageyama drew each other in for a bone crushing hug, whispering sweet nothings to each other as tears of joy spilt out of both of their eyes.

Their foreheads touched. Suddenly, it was like the entire court was quiet. It wasn't long before lips met and cheers erupted around them.

In an interview later, the both of them would be asked about their relationship.

"We've always been partners. We just thought it was time the rest of the world knew."

The only problem now was, when asked about when or how they got together, both Kageyama and Hinata would be vague. Perhaps they would mention a detail about how they confessed to each other. Yet, no one could tell when exactly it happened.

What they did let people know was that Oikawa was most definitely wrong about his guess and he could go suck it for thinking they were idiots who would take so long to realise their feelings for each other.

[forthewomenonly]

Possessive

Warnings: NSFW, smut, GAYS, Amber Freeman x fem reader (implied no pronouns used), daddy kink, dubcon, fingering(r receiving), oral(r receiving), toxic relationship, Amber’s kinda bitchy in this one a/n: Had fun writing this one, enjoy my loves! Amber Freeman is the epitome of possessiveness. You knew it, she knew it, hell, everyone in Woodsboro must have known it from the way she had her arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Her fingers digging into the flesh of your hip, the other hand grasping her cup of liquor in an ironclad grip, head poised ready to stare daggers at anyone who so much as dared to look in your direction.  “let’s go home baby” she purrs in your ear. It wasn’t a suggestion it was a statement, you would be going home whenever Amber wanted, of course you would. You always did exactly what she asked of you. There was a double meaning to her declaration, she wanted you home and away from prying eyes, nearly as much as she wanted you home and naked in her bed. “Few more minutes  Am.” you mumble out. The alcohol clearly settling in your system as your plead is barely coherent. But Amber hears it. Of course she does. Her hand snaps down to look at you, eyes narrowing as she takes in your slightly intoxicated figure. Wordlessly she drags you through the front door ignoring your displeased grumbles as she all but pushes you into the passenger seat of her car, buckling your seat belt.  “What the fuck Amber, I don’t want to go home yet!” you snap at your girlfriend as she starts the ignition. Her hand stills on the car keys, turning her head slowly to meet your gaze. She’s angry you can tell, and suddenly you’re sobering up, acutely aware of your seething girlfriend. “You’re lucky I even let you go to that fucking party.” she says through gritted teeth, her knuckles turning white as she grips the steering wheel impossibly tight. “Take me home Amber.” You spit out, unsure of where this false sense of confidence is coming from.  “We are going home brat.” she counters. “No, not your home. My home.” She remains silent. Part of you wishes she would say something just so that you could gauge her mood. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t acknowledge you and stays eerily silent. Amber tunes out your protests as she speeds past your house. You should have known better anyway. When she pulls into her driveway she swiftly exits the car, basically carrying you into her house as you struggle against her arms. She drags you upstairs, throwing you on her bed. She towers over to as you push yourself up onto your elbows. Amber pushes herself onto you kissing you with fervor, you moan surprised and subconsciously buck your hips up into her own. She takes your shirt off and starts unbuttoning your pants before you push her back by her shoulders. “I’m not letting you fuck me tonight tonight Am, I’m mad at you.” you say with indignation. A fake pout graces her lips, mocking you “oh baby you’re mad? Not gonna let Daddy make it up to you?” you whimper in response but don’t say anything as you stare at her blankly. Amber sighs heavily before removing your pants and underwear in one swift motion.  “How about this then, I’ll stop...if you’re not wet.” You’re suddenly all too aware of the burning heat pooling between your thighs and you’re positive that you’re absolutely soaked at this point. Amber recognizes it too as her hand resurfaces from your slick heat.  “Oh would you look at that! You’re fucking dripping all over my sheets baby!” she says not at all surprised.  “So messy” she tuts, as she leans down coming face to face with the place you need her most. Your body shudders and your eyes shut close as you feel Amber exhale into your cunt. She licks a stripe up your lips, flexing her tongue when she reaches your pulsing clit. You grind your hips down onto Amber’s face and she presses her hand on your waist to keep you still, her other hand teasing your hard nipples through the fabric of you bra. Once she’s done playing with your chest, Amber moves her free hand and pushes two fingers inside of you.  “Oh f-fuck Daddy please” you moan loudly. Amber groans into your slit and curls her fingers, abusing the spongy spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling back into your head.  “You wanna cum?” she asks rhetorically lifting her head up. She knows the answer, she can feel your walls sucking her fingers in deeper. “Yes” you gasp out “needa’ cum, need you to make me cum please.” Amber redoubles her efforts leaving you squirming underneath her desperately grinding into her hand, letting her finger-fuck you as she pleases. She presses her thumb harshly onto your reddened clit. “Go ahead baby, cum for me” and you do. Gushing all over her hand as she fucks you through your orgasm.  Amber falls down onto her bed beside you, pulling you to her chest, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, and softly running her fingers through your hair. She doesn’t apologize for making you leave the party early, she doesn’t have to. Amber was fiercely jealous but you loved her. You loved everything about her. After all, what’s a good partner if not a little possessive?

[gingerrtarot]

◌ ｡ PAC: “All eyes on me” - how you can fight your insecurities and start to stand out?

hello, everyone!

honestly this reading turned out to be pretty different from what the heading suggests🫡 but i hope it will still find those who it destined to find. So, as always, remember that this is a general reading, so it may it may not resonate with you. good luck~

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

°｡ Pile 1. ◌

hey hey, group one!! first of all, why do you underestimate yourself so much? seriously, this group came through as the ones with poor self-esteem, so if it’s not about you it’s not your group. I see people here focusing on their flaws and weaknesses too much. It comes to the point when you see nothing good in yourself, you refuse to recognize just how many good and outstanding qualities you possess. Every one of your strengths turns to weakness in your eyes. But seriously, you are so freaking cool, guys. Cards show you as someone extremely talented, interested and unique. Your personality is fascinating. There are not many people like you in this world. You are remarkably smart and intelligent, be it in a spiritual or scientific way, or maybe you know everything about, for example, cinematography or astrology. But, i believe, there’s not just one field in which you are educated. You know a lot. And i think you are pretty much aware of yourself too. And that’s interesting, because you still have self-esteem problems. Maybe that’s because you didn’t even have a chance to really esteem yourself, to see your worth, to show yourself to others, maybe, and receive some feedback, which, i am sure, would have been positive. You possess qualities that allow you to attract not only friends, but fans. Many of you have a talent, an outstanding one. Especially for performing in public, maybe singing, dancing, comedy, modeling or whatever. Many of you are destined for fame here. Wow, guys.

But what to do with that low self esteem of yours? First, acknowledge all your strengths and abilities. Make a list of them, and a list of your accomplishments too. Read them everyday. Teach yourself to stop seeing only bad side. You probably don’t tell anyone about this problem, but it will be really helpful for you to share it with your close friend (family member, lover, etc.). You would receive needed support from them. You don’t even realise how much their praise, compliments and encouragement will boost your confidence. And you will receive it for sure.

If what I said about a talent does resonate with you, well, it’s just a crime to hide it from the world. “Firework” by Katy Perry just started to play, so yeah, you know what to do. Don’t be afraid to express yourself. Wear that outfit you are afraid to wear, go out with that make up that it “too bold”, sing out loud, dance, post whatever it is that you want and so on. Remember, you are a star!!

°｡ Pile 2. ◌

hellooo, group 2!! who do we have here? we have critics. I see that people here are very critical of themselves. You set high standards for yourself, you must be the best in everything. You have to be all that: beautiful, smart, educated, skilful, proper etc. You want to succeed everywhere and in everything. It is important for you to show that you are no worse than others. You may have a fear of being left behind. And this makes you “cling” to everything at once, which ultimately leads to the fact that you are not truly successful at anything. “If you run after two hares, you will catch neither”, you know. And that makes you feel insecure, doubt your abilities and skills. You always feel like you are not enough. For example, you want to send resume for a job, but then you think “oh, i am not good enough for this position, they will definitely find someone better”. And you give up without even trying. Yes, you also give up too easily. Impostor syndrome may be the thing for you.

In fact the problem here is that because of that you don’t put enough energy and efforts into things that are interesting for you, that you want to do. It’s so hard for me to focus on your reading now, something distracts me all the time. You may feel the same. You can’t be perfect at everything, you should focus on what you really like.

I see that you are fast learners. You easily perceive new information and grasp the essence of things. You are probably always aware of what is happening in the world, you know all the latest news, follow trends, and all the gossip about your surroundings is unlikely to go unnoticed by you. And I think that you would be good at spreading information. Something about the way you speak captivates people. You can become a good speaker, blogger or work in marketing sphere.

Don’t let your doubts stop you from working towards your goals. My advice to you is to stop thinking and start acting. if you are unsure of your abilities and skills, take courses to improve your qualifications so that you can feel more confident. And stop being afraid to try and experiment. You are afraid to send this resume because “of course, they won’t accept you”but just try it. Or you don’t start drawing, let’s say, because you’re sure that you’ll get some kind of nonsense, just do it, draw it, and then again and again so you’ll improve and understand that it’s not all that bad. Here you need to stop expecting something supernatural from yourself, it’s okay if you are not perfect, accept yourself as you are and do what you can to become better. It is better to try and fail than to frame yourself into this “perfection” and do nothing. Good luck!!

°｡ Pile 3. ◌

Hi, group 3! An interesting case here. People here either have a decent, healthy self esteem (and if that is the case i don’t have much to say to you) or pretend it to be so. I see you here as extremely flamboyant personalities. You know how to draw attention, how to make people love you and how to get whatever it is that you want. You are charismatic, fun and charming. You learnt to be this way. At first i didn’t see a problem here. So maybe you don’t realise it either. You show the world a person that is not you, and you get so used to it. You display signs of a person with high self-esteem, but deep inside there’s a lot of pain, insecurities and fears. I see your inner child is extremely hurt here. Your connection with them is messed up. You lost yourself while pretending to be someone else to deserve love of people. Maybe you, the way you are, didn’t fit into society and weren’t accepted and that made you change. Many of you here are truly differ from your surroundings. Damn, we can have geniuses in this group. Your ideas, ways of thinking and seeing this world are something that people may not understand. You have very rich imagination and a creative vision. You are one of those who are able to come up with truly original ideas. Many of you also possess psychic abilities and are great master manifestors. And you all are so strong, because whereas I see your inner self suffering so much you are still able to show the world an absolutely happy and content person.

I see your inner child here as literally “bottled up” with its problems, fears and wounds. And he has to face it all alone. You are too scared to “open this bottle” because you would have to feel it all too. Or maybe you are not even aware of it. But it’s still there, inside of you. And if you stumbled across this reading it’s not just by accident.

So, what cards advice you here. You need to reconnect with your inner child, to recall who you was and who you really are. Understand and become aware of all your inner pain, triggers and everything that may bother you. Stop pretending. Give yourself time to acknowledge it all, accept yourself and relive all that pain. Let your feelings and emotions out. I’m not a doctor, indeed, but some of you would really benefit from working with a therapist if a lot of what i said resonates with you. To be and not to seem to be, that’s what you have to learn.

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

Hello! Can I apply for a general relationship hc with Lyney?

Ah yes, greatest magican, aka the rizzard. I should say that at the point of writing this, I still have not played his character story and have evaded spoilers for it very well so far, so if anything is not that accurate that's why. But I hope you enjoy these headcanons!

CW: None GN Reader

Lyney Relationship Headcanons

Let me start this off by saying. This man is an absolute simp for you. If he could, he'd buy you everything you could ever want or need in life.

He lives to see you happy, a day where he hasn’t made you smile and laugh is a day he considered wasted. If the people of Fontaines believe in justice is the power used to energise the technology in Fontaine, then your laughs and smiles are the power to energise Lyney.

Lyney always gives you a rainbow rose before every date. Sometimes he gives them to you like a normal person, most of the time though he will give them to you with a magic trick. You have no idea what he does to the flowers, but he has to do something with them since they never seem to wilt away. You once asked him how he did it and all he claimed was “They will bloom as long as I love you my dear, which means they will bloom forever.”

Surprising you with magic tricks is one of his favourite activities. He comes up with so many ideas that it is impossible to carry them all out. And poor Lynette always has to help him set up the ones he does carry out and has to be his assistant for them, even if she is hidden somewhere so you won’t see her. She loves her brother truly, but by the Archons his love sick self could be annoying.

Speaking of magic tricks, for every one of his shows he has a seat reserved for you. He is aware that you can’t go to every one of his and Lynette’s shows, but he still reserves a seat for you anyways. So that when you are watching them you are always in the same seat and he can easily find your eyes amongst the many people in the audience. He will look at you, and his eyes turn soft and his smile grows a bit wider.

And should he ever need an assistant from the audience? Well lets just say that whenever you are watching the number generator randomly picks you every time. What a coincidence right?

Walking through the streets of Fontaine while holding hands is a must for him. He wants everyone to see what an amazing partner he has. If it were up to him all of Teyvat would know that he is taken and absolutely enamoured by you.

Though it should be said that despite being absolutely in love with you, Lyney would not be in a relationship with you if his sister or brother couldn’t stand you. They are a big and very important part of his life, and anyone who does not like them has no place in his life and heart. Luckily for you Lynette likes you, she sees how happy you make her brother. Freminet appreciates that you do not force him to speak when he is clearly uncomfortable and is also grateful for you that you treat them all with respect and love.

Whenever you aren’t paying attention to your surroundings, be it because you are sitting somewhere and reading a book, engrossed in the story, or because you are cooking a meal for Lyney, his siblings and well yourself, he will sneak up on you from behind and wrap his arms around you, kissing your cheek as he laughs. You want to be mad at him for scaring you, but how can you when he laughs so happily and his eyes shine with love?

While Lyney obviously has many magic tricks he works on to show them in front of a big audience and always has Lynette as his assistant. There is one trick that he is currently planning where he doesn’t want an audience or an assistant for. 

What is that trick? Well let’s just say it has to do with a ring sitting in a small velvet box ;)

[thebadboyfanclub]

Lady Wife Falling Asleep Headcanon (Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jacaerys)

I haven’t written a headcanon in a minute so I wanted to give you guys a story that explained what I think they would do, hopefully you enjoy my take on it

-

AEMOND

Everyone was raving about the tourney, it was Aemonds name day so the celebrations were in full effect, (y/n) on the other hand as much as she adored her husband she would be content with laying in bed by his side. Slowly but surely her eyelids felt too heavy to be open and (y/n)s head hung a bit to the side.

Aemond was always a man that noticed details so it didn’t take long for him to realize (y/n) has drifted to slumber, alarmed by just how tired his lady wife was and torn between taking her in his arms or staying at the name of duty, he simply raised his hand for her sworn knight to come closer.

“Take her in our chambers, call the maester, and let him know of this incident”

The knight only nodded before he took her away as gently as possible, Aemond was aware that if he left it would seem inappropriate, his mothers' hawk eyes were already on him so he felt it was best to have his lady wife taken to a more comfortable and private setting while he suffered through the tourney.

AEGON

Aegon always scoffed at small council meetings, however once in a while he would attend just so he can get his mother and grandsire off his back, albeit having his (y/n) by his side made it less boring.

He was holding (y/n)s hand the whole time and sometimes communicate with her via looks or counted squeezing of hands, (y/n) on the other side was fighting with herself to keep her conscious awake, she did not know if it was the long monologue of the grant maester or just the ridiculous time of hour she would go to sleep due to inability to get comfortable but now the beautiful sensation of rest was engulfing her like a warm blanket.

Aegon squeezed her hand once more but surprisingly he did not get a response, her hand remained gentle so he turned his head over to her in a way to figure out what was happening, Aegon had to hold back a giggle when he heard her muffled snores as he found it adorable.

“Is the lady alright?”

“Yes she is quite alright, we must be excused, lady (y/n) is a prime example of how utterly dull this is”

“What?”

Aegon guessed that (y/n) had been awoken by the drag of Aegons chair or his voice, whatever it may be she was staring at him with confusion, only to be met with a kind smile on Aegons lips as he offered his hand for her to take, it was certainly amusing to him to see (y/n) blatantly disregarding everyone around her so she can rest.

“Nothing my love, come along now I know a very comfortable bed you are probably looking forward to laying on”

DAEMON

Dinners were usually (y/n)s favorite part, howbeit the past few days she seemed to feel a bit weak and her stomach was quite sensitive, the smells of certain food stirred up nausea but today they were visiting kings landing, it was a must that they attend.

As everyone talked about everything and anything (y/n) only toyed with her food and soon enough she just laid back on her chair, like a thief in the night the sense of sleep took over and the idea of resting her eyes became a deep sleep.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)”

As (y/n) was stirred awake her eyes met Daemons, he was visibly concerned by her unusual behavior of her, combining it with the illness that was circling her he was worried that it was getting to her even more.

“I apologize, the trip was quite long”

“It was, you must excuse us, I want to escort my lady wife to our chamber”

“We can call the maester for her”

“No, she needs some warm tea and to stay abed so she can sweat it out, she will be fine”

Daemon dismissed his brother as he linked (y/n)s arm with his to assist her with walking, Daemon was never a supporter of Maesters, he did not want them to taint his wife and the last part was mostly for him to hear more than anyone else.

JACAERYS

Rhaenyra was looking for her son all day, thankfully one of the servants informed her that he was attending his Valyrian lessons with his lady wife (y/n), as she walked in the room she expected to be met with the voice of Jacaerys and the maester as they went over a book or something of that nature.

Imagine her surprise when she was met with utter silence, with worry written over her face she scanned the room with her gaze to find them, there they were, lady (y/n) that was resting her head on Jacaerys lap while Jacaerys endearingly caressed her hair.

“She fell asleep, I brought her to my lap, I did not want her neck to stiffen”

“Mayhaps we should wake her, she will rest better in her chamber”

“No, no, she is so peaceful”

He whispered while he admired her calmness, (y/n) would always attend her lord husband's lessons, as newlyweds she wanted to get to know him and learn his schedule and so did he, duty United them but they both craved love to be the one that kept them together.

Rhaenyra smiled at her son, she raised a sweet boy, a gentleman that abruptly stopped his lesson to tend to his lady, Rhaenyra also agreed that she looked too serene to be disturbed, the scene that was unfolding in front of her was perfect, a memory she would bottle in her mind to be able to reminisce with her grandchildren.

“Alright then, I shall leave you to it”

“Thank you, mother”

Requests are open!

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not Allowed: Part Two

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Now that you and Bucky are together, it doesn't seem like anything can ruin your good mood. That is until Brandon comes back with a vendetta against your new boyfriend.

PART ONE

Squares Filled: accidental feelings (2020) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

All you can think about is Bucky’s lips on yours and his hand on your ass. What he said that night was true: you weren’t enjoying your date with Brandon. He’s arrogant, only thinks about himself, loves to hear himself talk, and is a complete douche. Bucky is everything Brandon isn’t. Bucky is sweet, caring, thoughtful, and very bold. If your years of flirting told you anything, Bucky is a cheeky flirt but only for you. 

He doesn’t do that to anyone else in the office.

You avoided Bucky the entire weekend to gather your thoughts and prepare yourself to see him. He texted you a couple of times but understood you might need your space, especially when he knows he might have overwhelmed you. You pull into the parking lot on Monday morning with a racing heart and sweaty palms. The second you get out of your car, you feel his presence behind you. He must have been waiting for you to show up even though you’re one of the only ones who show up before everyone else.

Bucky’s body heat radiates off him so much that you can feel it on your skin even though you’re wearing clothes. He doesn’t have to say anything to make you aware of how he’s feeling. He grabs your waist and turns you so you’re facing him, and he leans down to kiss you. His lips are only on yours for a few seconds before you pull away with a nervous giggle.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Yes. You’re very intimidating… in a good way,” you quickly add.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” he chuckles and backs up to give you some space. “I want to take you out tonight. What do you say? Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile.

You lock your car and the two of you walk to the police station together. You walk ahead of him to get to your desk and he not-so-subtly checks your ass out in your dress.

“I have got to say, that dress is working for you. You look gorgeous.”

You look down at the frilly dress you bought this weekend. It’s baby pink with white flowers on it, and it’s completely appropriate for work. You wiggle your hips to make it shake and Bucky laughs.

“Thank you. It’s new.”

Bucky winks at you as he walks to the back where his desk is. You immediately get to work and sort through your emails as the rest of the officers file into the building. You greet them all like you do every morning, smiling at Sam when he walks in.

“Hey, how was your weekend?”

“Probably not better than yours,” he grins. “I hear two certain someones are together now?”

“Wow, word travels fast here, huh?”

“Well, it’s hard not to when our desks are so close together. Not that I’m surprised. You two have always had that spark. I’m kind of jealous if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t know you wanted Bucky like that,” you joke.

“Har-har,” Sam rolls his eyes with a smile. “No, I never had that connection with anyone before. Look at me, I’m thirty-eight and still single.”

“Don’t stress about it. It’s going to happen. You’re a great guy who deserved someone equally as great.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Sam heads to his desk to begin his work day while you finish checking your emails. It takes an hour to get through all of them, and you close the browser once you’re done. You lean back to take a small five-minute break when the front doors to the station open. Brandon storms inside with an angry look on his face, and you immediately stand up in shock.

“Brandon, what--”

“Where is Officer Barnes?” he sneers.

Someone clears their throat from behind you, and you look to see Bucky leaning on the door frame that separates the lobby and the officers’ desks.

“Right here.” Bucky walks to your desk and stands next to it. Has he been there the entire time? “Can I help you?”

Brandon takes out the ticket that he issued him on Friday along with the bill from his mechanic. He practically throws the two pieces of paper in his face, and you watch as they flutter to the counter.

“My taillight wasn’t fucking broken. I went to the mechanic who told me everything was fine.”

Bucky crosses his arms which makes his arms look bigger than they are. If you’re being honest, he looks hot right now, especially in his uniform. His police belt fits snugly around his waist, and his ass looks good in the black slacks they provide for him.

“They were broken when I looked at them.”

This only pisses Brandon off more.

“You’re going to pay my mechanic bill!”

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

Again, Brandon rages at how calm Bucky is. How were you ever on a date with this guy? He never showed this type of anger when it was just the two of you.

“This is so fucking stupid! This entire place is crawling with corrupt cops.” Brandon’s wild eyes land on your wide ones. He raises his hand and points a crooked finger at you while taking a step toward you. “You’re no fucking better.”

Bucky jumps into action, grabs his outstretched arm, and pins it behind his back. He slams Brandon facedown onto your desk, and you jump at the sudden action. Bucky reaches behind him and grabs his handcuffs so he can slap them on Brandon’s wrists.

“Don’t you point your fucking finger at her. You need to calm down before you get arrested,” Bucky threatens.

You watch Bucky handle the situation with ease, and you bite your lower lip in thought. The commotion catches the attention of a few officers, and Sam rushes into the main lobby.

“What is going on here?”

“Take him to holding,” Bucky says and yanks Brandon upright. Sam knows better than to question Bucky right now. He grabs Brandon’s arm and escorts him out of the room. You quickly turn and leave the main lobby to gather your thoughts. “Doll, wait!” Bucky follows you to an empty hallway. “Hey, don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.”

“That’s not it,” you shake your head.

“What is it?”?” he asks. He steps closer to you. “What are you thinking about?”

“That was hot,” you say with a blush.

Bucky smirks and places his left hand on the wall, semi-trapping you there.

“Oh, yeah?”

You give him a shy nod, and he cups your jaw with his right hand. His hand is so big that it rests mostly on your neck, and he still has enough room to rub his thumb on your skin. He pulls you closer and kisses you. He’s so magnetic and surrounds you in everything you do. This time, you embrace the kiss instead of pulling away from him.

Brandon spent the entire day in lockup and was let go before your shift ended. Like what Bucky has done so many times before, he waits for you to get off just so he can walk you to your car. He can make the excuse he doesn’t want Brandon to come back and hurt you, but it’s really so he can spend more time with you.

“Thank you for walking me to my car,” you smile at him.

“Anytime, Doll. I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?”

“Okay.”

You and Bucky go your separate ways, and you drive home wondering where Bucky is going to take you. What kind of man is Bucky? Where would he take a girl on the first date? You get home an hour and a half before Bucky wants to pick you up, so you have time to take a shower and change into something cuter. You have a knee-length dress with pockets that you’ve been wanting to wear that you think would be perfect for this. 

Once you’re done with your shower, you do your hair and makeup before getting dressed. You’ve just finished when you hear someone knock on your door. You check the final look in the mirror by the front door before opening it. 

Bucky is out of his police uniform and decided to wear something more casual. His jeans hug his ass perfectly, his muscles are well defined in the thin Henley he threw on, and his hair is tousled perfectly. He takes one look at you and whistles lowly in appreciation. 

“Damn. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Shall we?” he offers his arm.

“Of course.”

You take his arm, and he leads you to his Mercedes AMG GT. His house is only twenty minutes from your place, but it feels longer with Bucky’s hand on your thigh for the entire trip. You really like him, you’re just so nervous around him. Flirting with him is way different than allowing him into your life like this. You’ve been burned before, so you’re a bit cautious when it comes to guys you let in. You don’t want to ruin this thing you have with Bucky because of your nerves so you’re going to take it one step at a time.

Bucky reaches his house with ease and pulls into his driveway. 

“I hope you don’t mind a night in.”

“Actually, I really like that. It’s just us.”

“Exactly,” he smiles.

You’ve never seen the inside of his place despite knowing him for two years. He’s always been a private person which you valued. It’s tough to know what he’s thinking at times, which makes him even more mysterious than usual. His house is very minimalistic with very few pictures on the wall and not a lot of things to suggest that someone lives here. Your place is the complete opposite because you have pictures and trinkets everywhere in your house.

“I’m going to cook for you tonight. I figure some good food, delicious wine, and some slow music would make the perfect first date.”

“You’re making me blush,” you chuckle and touch your heated cheeks.

“That’s good, yeah?” he chuckles and leads you to the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

The kitchen is very clean and large with a large kitchen island in the middle of the room. He grabs a bottle of your favorite wine and pours two glasses. You’re not much of a cook so you’re content with sitting here and watching him do all of the work. While you take your spot at the kitchen island, Bucky gets to work cooking.

Bucky at work in his police uniform is very attractive, but seeing him barefoot in his own kitchen cooking expertly is a sight in itself. He looks so calm compared to the hard act he puts on at work. Sure, you two flirt, but he doesn’t really smile much unless it’s with you. Here, he’s free to be himself and it shows.

His muscles flex whenever he chops the food up, and you can see his back muscles move when he is flipping the food in the pan. You're already halfway done with your wine when he is almost done cooking, and you decide to pace yourself before you get a bit too tipsy and ruin this. Your fingers dance along the rim of the glass as you admire him.

“Do I have something on my face?” he chuckles and plates the food.

“Have I ever told you how attractive you are?”

“Once or twice.”

“Well, you are.”

“Are you a lightweight? Do you need some water?”

“No, I can hold my alcohol. I’m just… happy.”

Bucky smiles but doesn’t say anything as he finishes with the plate. He cooked something you’ve never had before but are willing to try.

“That’s all I ever want you to be with me,” he says honestly. “Food’s ready.”

You grab the wine and he takes the food to the dining room where there is a big table meant for ten or more people. But tonight, it’s just you two so he takes the end seat and the one to the right of it.

“I hope you like it. It’s something new I tried a couple of days ago. I figure the best person to try it out would be you.”

You cut into your food and take a bite, and you almost moan at how good it tastes. 

“This is so fucking good. You’re really good at cooking. Have you ever taken classes?”

“No, my mom taught me everything I know. After she died, I really started getting serious about it to keep her memory alive.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, she always cooked this vegetable soup every week in high school. It didn’t matter what I had planned. I wanted to be home to eat it.”

“She sounded amazing,” you smile and take another sip of your wine.

“She was. You would have liked her.”

“So, what were you like in high school? Would I have talked to you?”

“I was a bit of a player,” he chuckles nervously. “I don’t think you would have gone for me but I would have definitely gone for you.”

“I don’t know. Bad boys were kind of my forte.” You smirk mischievously and eat some more. “I was a book girl who did her school work. I guess I wanted someone like you to come in and sweep me off my feet.”

“Am I doing it now?”

“Oh, you are definitely doing it now,” you laugh.

You and Bucky fill the rest of the meal with light chatter about both your pasts until you’re both done with your food. He takes your hand and leads you to the living room so you can move this party to the couch.

“Have you always been like this? Where are pictures of your friends and family? It looks so bare.”

“I never had any need to put pictures up.”

“What about your family? Your mom?”

“Yeah, I have pictures in the basement. Everything about me is down there. I just never had any desire to put them up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll liven this place up in no time,” you grin and sip your wine.

Bucky gently takes the glass from you when you’re done and places both yours and his on the sleek coffee table. He leans back onto the couch and pulls you closer by your hips. You’re not quite on his lap but close enough to where you can sit on it with one move. He slides his right hand in your hair and pulls you into him so he can kiss you. 

Kissing him feels like Heaven because he knows exactly what he’s doing. His lips move expertly over yours and his tongue swipes against your lower lip. You open your mouth to let him in, and he moves his hands over your hips to pull you onto his lap.

“Wait, wait,” you pulls away with a pant.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Like I said before, you’re kind of intimidating and I’m kind of nervous. Can we just lay here tonight? Just me and you?”

“Of course. I never want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” you smile and peck his lips.

Bucky shifts on the couch so that he’s lying flat on it, and you lay your entire body over his like a small child would do with their parent. Bucky runs his hands up and down your back gently and you put your ear over his heartbeat since its rhythm calms you.

What you have with Bucky is rare and you don’t want to mess it up by going too fast. He’s too important to you.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[unoislazy]

A Dragon Trappers Fate (Part 2)

Eret Son of Eret x Gn! Reader

Summary: you thought you’d only have to see Eret once and never again, that way that weird feeling you got when you looked at him would disappear. Well, turns out you need him again so you an find out where Drago Bludvist is located. No one better to interrogate than a dragon trapper.

Your group of friends, of course excluding Hiccup, flew back in the general direction of Berk. A steady silence hung over all of you as you all had to come to terms with the fact that a war was coming, and a fairly gruesome one at that given the nature of Stoick’s story.

You looked ahead to the woman who naturally led the group, Astrid. You noticed the sour expression she held as she looked out at the landscape before her. Astrid was many things but good at hiding her emotion was not one of them. You lightly gestured your dragon to move up to her, now steadily flying beside her.

“So… you’re not going to listen to him are you?” You asked. She quickly snapped her head towards, surprised by your sudden presence before visibly relaxing a bit.

“Well, what if they get taken? What if Hiccup finds Drago before they can find him?” She asks, turning back to the landscape, very clearly lost in her stressful thoughts.

“Hiccup may be stubborn but so is his father, let's just give them time, don't act too hastily. Besides, it’s Hiccup we’re talking about.” You commented, eventually slightly persuading her to at least relax a slight bit.

“Let’s wait right there, and if they’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m going to look for them.” Astrid stated, guiding Stormfly down to a sizable piece of ice, big enough to hold everyone’s dragons while you all waited.

And so you waited.

And waited.

And… waited.

You watched as Astrid, someone who was usually quite put together, became fidgety and eager to get back out there. There was no doubt she loved that boy, and while you were all worried about his safety, clearly it was hitting her the most.

You almost didn’t understand it.

As far as you were concerned you had only ever experienced a familial kind of love, mainly through your friends and Stoick. He had always served as a sort of father figure over the group. You never really had that connection with anyone like Astrid and Hiccup had, or even the way Ruff, Snotlout and Fishlegs were… you never truly felt that way about anyone.

And as far as you knew, no one felt that way about you.

You couldn’t help but think how nice it must be to be able to find someone that you can not only be vulnerable with but you also want to protect. Good luck finding that in Berk, pretty sure the only Viking okay with seeming vulnerable is Fishlegs, and he gets made fun of for it every time.

It’s a weird thought, wanting to feel loved. Most people relate to the feeling, and strangely enough you felt like you had felt that feeling once before but you couldn’t place where.

You sighed, finally snapping out of your thoughts as you looked back up at Astrid who had just landed after searching the surrounding area for the fourth time in ten minutes.

“I don't like this. They should’ve been back by now.” She says to the group, even though you were almost sure the rest of them were truly too bored to listen.

“Alright then, let's go look for them.” You approved with a nod. Astrid Hofferson of all people did not truly need your approval for anything but you were the one who told her to wait in the first place. Without another word, Astrid took off practically leaving the rest of you behind in her dust.

“Good gods, what does she feed that dragon?” You asked rhetorically. Your dragon was fast but Astrid knew how to get Stormfly to her fastest potential.

“I think she feeds her chicken ‘cause they fly faster.” Tuffnut said which earned a very confused look from you as you turned back to him.

“Chickens can't fly…” You were well aware the twins had their moments of stupidity but it was always like a fresh slap in the face when you realized just how stupid they sounded sometimes.

“Oh yeah… well why do they have wings?” He argued, and honestly you couldn’t really think of a reason to argue back. Chickens are weird.

You shook your head before turning back towards where you could see Astrid a bit of a ways away from you all.

“You’d think she cares more about Hiccup than she does the rest of us.” You joked.

“I know I’d never leave you behind like that.” Snotlout added on, flying beside you to which you responded,

“Spare me.” Before adding distance between you and the short Viking man.

As you continued on, you questioned, how exactly were you meant to find Drago’s army? You had no idea where he could be at this point, Or at any point, you had never seen his army before. That’s when it clicked for you, who else would know where Drago is hiding than the dragon trappers.

Which meant seeing Eret son of Eret yet again.

You knew you weren’t looking forward to this but you’d have to suck it up for Hiccups potential safety.

After some time had passed you could start to see Erets ship in the distance, not in any better shape than it had looked last time. You caught up with Astrid before shouting towards him,

“So… any ideas on how to get him to talk?” You asked, to which Astrid responded with a smirk

“Watch and learn.” She stretched her arms out in front of her, cracking her knuckles as she often did. You waited behind as you watched her quickly dive down and scoop Eret up like it was nothing.

You watched as Stormfly flew back up to your height effortlessly, the man dangling between her claws as if he was nothing more than her latest kill or a scrap of meat. You looked down at the man from before, noticing slight features that you hadn’t really taken into account from before.

As much as you wanted to hate him, you could not deny he was still… very handsome. Oh how you hated admitting that.

You almost felt weak for not being able to control your thoughts or feelings about this Dragon trapper. Maybe you weren’t weak for it, for having emotions is just part of being human, but gods above were you ashamed of them.

The man screamed as he hung onto the dragons foot for dear life.

“What do you want from me?” He shouted desperately, which to be honest, was quite a good look for him. You shook your head at the thought before responding,

“We want you to take us to Drago.”

To that response the man look at you as if you had just sprouted two heads and a dragon tail.

“Help a bunch of dragon riders infiltrate Dragos army? Just kill me now.” He said in a half joking tone, but considering his situation they were definitely not the wisest words to say. Without another thought, Astrid ordered Stormfly to drop Eret which she did in a matter of seconds.

People could say what they wanted about Astrid but no one could deny that she had trained her dragon extremely well. Not like anyone had the balls to make a comment about her anyways.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Astrid asked, turning towards you as she gestured to a still screaming Eret who continued to get closer and closer to the ground.

“With pleasure.” You responded before telling your dragon to go down and fetch him. Coincidentally Eret had just been in the process of caving in, so your timing was impeccable.

Once you had flown back up to the group, Ruffnut was the first to fly towards Eret. She quickly cling to his arm as she begged to take him from you. You only laughed it off, but you couldn’t help but feel… upset about her being so enthusiastic towards him?

Which clearly confused you cause she did nothing wrong.

It felt like it could be described as jealousy but there is no way you’d ever be jealous over a dragon trapper of all people. You merely shook your head of the thoughts before looking down at the man now dangling in the grasp of your dragons claws.

“So Eret, how does it feel to be at the mercy of yet another dragon?” You teased, looking down at the man who simply rolled his eyes at you with a scoff.

“I’d be careful with how you respond, my dragon is now pretty eager to continue playing fetch.” You threatened in a lighthearted manner which didn’t get any verbal response from Eret but he definitely acknowledged the statement with his sudden shift in body language.

“Maybe you should change your profession, dragons seem to love you.” You joked, which finally got Eret to respond.

“And go against Drago Bludvist? No, I value my life, thank you.”

“Okay but say we took Drago out of the equation, would you consider it then?” You asked, genuinely curious in his answer.

“Did you not hear me when I said I’m the ‘finest dragon trapper alive’? I would have that title with or without Drago.” He stated quite arrogantly. He clearly wasn’t trying to impress anyone, just boost his own ego.

“Right well… have you ever actually gotten to know a dragon before?” You couldn’t help but feel like Hiccup with the way you were trying to talk down the situation. Usually Hiccup was the main advocate for switching people to the dragon side, but you couldn’t help but want to try and persuade Eret. Maybe if you could get him to switch sides you’d feel less guilty about your feelings for him. Or maybe there was something deeper that was urging you. Your mind was too muddled to properly discern the true reasoning so you simply just chalked it up to Hiccup rubbing off on you.

“No, and I don’t plan it. How many times do I have to say it, I’m a dragon ‘trapper’ not one of you.” He spat which caused you to scowl slightly.

“Yeah, you’ll eat your words one day.” You stated as if you knew his fate as a fact. You don’t know why but you felt extremely confident in your words.

“Or get eaten, tell me which outcome sounds more plausible?” He asked sarcastically.

So much for trying to win him over. Guess you were really going to have to do the “Hiccup Thing” and just wait to show him somehow.

Little did you know that opportunity would come up a lot sooner than you thought.

Taglist

(Ive never made one before so bear with me if I get it wrong the first few times)

@aiko-oba

[writingseaslugs]

Octavinelle: Is Eel/Octopus on the Menu?

This was a stupid idea bobbing around in my head for like a solid month, so here we go. A reader going to Mostro Lounge and asking if Eel/Octopus is on the menu, but in a flirting kinda way. This is also pre-relationship with them since I thought it would be far more hilarious if they weren’t going out yet.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post. Content Warning: Suggestive Themes, Floyd Leech

Is Eel/Octopus on the Menu?

You knew it was going to be the dumbest thing to possibly ask, but you were also aware that your mental and verbal filter had all but disappeared after your first few months at Night Raven College. So when you entered the Lounge and got your premium seating, courtesy of Octrio who loved to be able to bug you while you were there. You smiled, taking your seat and looking over the drink and food menu, just waiting. 

You knew he’d come over in a moment. He always did. There was only one person allowed to take your order in this entire establishment, and you knew it was because he told everyone else not to talk to you when you were there. You smiled as the familiar footsteps approached your table and you looked up, only to see him. The object of your affections, and the person you hoped to either fluster or get a good laugh out of.

Azul Ashengrotto

“Good evening, Prefect, we weren’t expecting you tonight,” Azul said with a calm smile. It was true, normally when you were heading over, you shot him a message earlier in the day to let him know. Still, you wanted to be spontaneous, so throwing off the carefully put routine you had was part of that. You chuckled, putting the menu down and looking at him.

“Did you not want to see me tonight?” You asked with a fake pout on your lips. Azul was able to see through this little play of yours as he shot you a sly smile.

“It’s always a pleasure to have you with us,” he said before clearing his throat and grabbing his pad of paper. It wasn’t often Azul ever had to take orders, but when it came to you, he wouldn’t allow anyone else. Half the time, if he didn’t have a meeting, he’d join you for your meal as well. It was one of the few times you two could just sit and chat for an hour or two without worry about anything else. “What would you like tonight? The usual, or would you like to try the special of the day?”

“That depends, is octopus on the menu for tonight?” You asked, staring at him with a smirk. Azul was about to inform you that Takoyaki was only available on Friday evenings and that it was a Sunday afternoon, when your words were processed. 

Azul had a slight dusting of red on his cheeks as he cleared his throat, putting on his business persona before it could be lost. He shot you a small grin. “You must think you’re very clever,” he commented and you chuckled.

“I think I am very clever, yes. So…is that on the menu?” You asked, staring him up and down. He shifted a bit in his spot, looking around to make sure nobody heard what you were saying. He was used to your occasional flirtatious remarks, but this was a bit different than the norm. He let out a sigh, looking over at you with a now disapproving look.

“Truly, you’re horrible, prefect.” He commented before clearing his throat once more, “If you’d like though, we can get it arranged…but it won’t be until later tonight. Shall I grab you something else in the meantime.” Now it was your turn to get a bit flustered. You didn’t think that would actually work, but you weren’t going to complain.

“I’ll just take the usual for now then…” You said and Azul couldn’t help but relish in your sudden awkwardness. He wrote down your normal order before turning around. He then stopped to look over at you, loving how your face seemed a bit warmer than when you walked in, a stark contrast to the cool air of the Lounge.

“I’ll have my business finished around nine tonight.” He said before disappearing to the kitchen. You looked at the clock, and how it read six. Just three more hours…you could last until then, right?

Jade Leech

Jade approached your table with his normal calm smile on his face, looking you over. You smiled happily, seeing your favorite eel. “Good evening, prefect, how are you doing this evening?” He started out, always one for casual conversation when you arrived. He probably already had his tables covered by someone else so he could focus on you. It was something you picked up after your fifth time visiting the Lounge. Normally it was Floyd who was running his tables, or some poor freshman who picked up the slack.

“I’m doing well, how about yourself?” You said looking around the Lounge. It was pretty quiet, judging by how it was the middle of the week, and you knew there was an exam in Trein’s class tomorrow. Most students were probably studying for it, or off doing who knows what else. Drinking in the Lounge was never a good idea the day before an exam, so only a few students participated.

“It’s been a rather calm evening.” He said before grabbing his pad of paper, “You know, tonight we have a mushroom risotto on the menu, I grew them myself so it has a rather pleasant taste compared to other places.” You smiled. You could feel the nerves building up, but you couldn’t let an opportunity like this be wasted. A calm day? At the Lounge? It rarely happened, and there were no students or staff anywhere near your table.

“That sounds good…but I was wondering…” You trailed off, as if in deep thought about something. Jade looked you over, curious as to what you were about to request, “Could I have a side of eel with that?” You finally said, feeling how your cheeks got a bit warmer at the blatant flirting. You couldn’t even look at Jade when you said it, so when you turned back you could see the normal polite smile on his face turned into a smirk.

“That’s a rather bold thing for you to ask, prefect.” Jade teased, making you shift a bit in your spot.

“Is that a yes, or a no?” You managed to murmur, the confidence you had minutes ago slowly fading away. Jade tapped on his chin and tilted his head, debating if he wanted to entertain this idea of yours.

“I’m sure I can get that arranged for you,” he said, making you perk up. 

Did it work? Did your horrible pick-up line actually somehow work with him? You looked up at him with hopeful eyes and he oh-so-loved that expression you gave him. It was almost innocent, if not for the question you had asked moments ago. “In fact, my shift ends in about an hour…” he finished up.

“I guess it’ll be my dessert then.” You tried to play it off with a smile, but he could almost see the steam coming off your face.

“I guess it’ll have to be. Now let me get your order to the kitchen. I won’t keep you waiting.” With that, he turned around and left you to your own thoughts.

Floyd Leech

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd called out, sliding into the booth right next to you. His arm came around to give you a half squeeze while he nuzzled his face into your neck. You chuckled at his display of affection, loving how cute he could be at times. He always got like this around you, like a cuddly little cat. Sure, he sometimes decided to bite, but it was all worth it. You ran your hands through his hair, loving how soft and fluffy it was.

“Hey Floyd, it’s good to see you as well.” You chuckled, not bothering to take your hand away from his hair. He chuckled a bit more before sitting straight up and looking you over.

“Whatcha getting? Oh, should I surprise you for your meal?” Floyd suggested, “I can make it myself!” Oh how adorable this boy was. If only he weren’t so evil at times, you’d think he was just an overly attached puppy. Still, you could feel your heart hammering in your chest by his small displays of affection, as well as what you were planning on asking for.

“Actually, I had something in mind I’ve been wanting to try.” You said, “Of course, that’s if you guys carry it.” Floyd pouted at the thought of not being able to surprise you. Last time you had agreed with that, you got some very dubious looking food. It tasted amazing, sure, but you also had no idea what you were eating that night. Floyd had assured you that it wasn’t human though, which had made you choke on that meal and debate if you were going to finish it.

“Awe, fine. What did you want?” Floyd said, crossing his legs on the booth table as he waited for you.

“I was actually wondering…is eel on the menu tonight?” You finally manage to get out. Floyd froze as your words, seeing how your cheeks seemed to be burning. There was no mistaking that you weren’t asking him for actual eel. Then he grinned, and it sent a shiver right through your spine as he got closer to you. You were thankful that everyone in the restaurant had the knowledge to steer clear of your table whenever you and Floyd were there, unless they wanted to get dragged into something.

“So cute, but I don’t think we have that tonight.” He chuckled, making you frown, “But we do have a special going on tonight…” He trailed off, waiting for you to ask him what it was. You cleared your throat before asking just that.

“What’s the special?” You managed to get out.

“Glazed shrimp.” Now you were definitely overheating; Floyd laughed before grabbing your hand. You tried to ask what was going on, but you soon could see the hallway of Octavinelle, and just knew he was dragging you to his room. You were both happy that your flirt managed to work, but at the same time your heart was five seconds from giving out on you. Oh, how your night was taking an unexpected turn…which honestly was exactly what you’d expect with Floyd.

Beta Fishies:  @epiphyllous

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

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Rose Thorn Blues | pt. 5 (final)

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Masterlist

Summary: Spider-Man saved everyone he could. But this time, you have to save him — and yourself.

Word count: ~10.4k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! (We're finally to the lovers part <3) Canon-level violence. Swearing, blood, injuries. Angst. Fluff and more fluff!! Love confessions!!! And smooching ;)

A/n: Today's my birthday, so here's a little birthday present to all of you :) Thank you all for your patience with this story. It's the longest one I've written, and I'm grateful for everyone that's read it. Your comments mean the world.

I'd be happy to write an epilogue or little snippets of their lives during or after this story if anyone would be interested. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy <3

Pain. Unrelenting pain settling deep into your body was the first thing you noticed. Your closed eyes squeezed shut harder as the back of your head pounded, a shaky exhale leaving your cracked lips. You could feel dried tears stuck along the planes of your cheeks.

When you tried moving your arms, you found you couldn’t — not with them bound behind you to the chair you sat in, and not with the deep ache stretching from your shoulders down to your wrists. The skin there felt rubbed nearly raw by rope holding them together. Even your chest and ankles were tied to the chair. 

Despite the ache in your ribs, you forced yourself to take long, deep breaths. Each one shook through you. Blinking slowly, you let your blurry vision adjust. The bright fluorescents were now dimmer than before, only half of them on. You shivered slightly, goosebumps raising across your skin in the cool temperature of the warehouse. 

Forms of people here and there began to come into focus in front of you. They seemed to be packing things into large boxes, the same wooden ones you’d seen before. And as you took in the tall windows and many shelves, you saw that you were in a shadowy corner of this godforsaken warehouse.

You could’ve screamed if your throat wasn’t so dry and your head wasn’t swimming. Your jaw ached as you clenched your teeth together over and over again. Panicked, uncontrolled thoughts flew through your hazy awareness. No matter how hard you tried to swallow them back, you couldn’t ignore the worry festering in your stomach — one uneasy idea decomposing into another.

Where was Peter?

A thin breath punched from your lungs as you remembered the hurt in his voice over the phone. He’d never allowed you to see him like that before, but still, you could picture his face twisting and the blood staining his suit dark. The image floated on the edges of your vision as you scanned the people moving throughout the warehouse.

Somehow, no guard stood watch over you. If what Will had said before about his horrible suit being missing, his workers must have been scouring the city — stretching his people thin and unable to be everywhere all at once.

With a possible window of opportunity open and beckoning you to take, you shifted your wrists, testing out the rope around them. Wiggling your arms made the binding a tiny bit looser. Each movement stretched them out but brought burning pain with it. It wouldn’t get you anywhere but tired and too hurt to function.

Like Peter, desperate and hurt. Who tried to keep you from walking into your demise… using secrets and lies. You clenched your teeth, hoping the pressure of it could shove away these half-feelings twisting and knotting around themselves.

So, you looked around, careful not to turn your head too abruptly in case any workers looked over. Though, even from afar, all of them looked terrified to do anything but hastily pack. Orders from Will himself, you were sure of it.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a jagged metal beam broken and sticking out from a beat-up shelf. It looked dull, but it came to a point. It’d have to do.

As silently as you could, you used your feet to inch the chair backward — timing each push with the sound of people shouting at one another or loudly loading up a crate. Your ears rang and your rapid heartbeat dulled your focus, distracting you with each intense spike of your nerves firing off.

Over several minutes, you positioned your bound hands to the piece of metal shelving and began to rub the rope across it. You paused at each lull, each possible moment that you might be caught. It gave you temporary relief from the strain pulling in your shoulders as you continued sawing away at the rope.

Sweat beaded across your skin as time passed — how long exactly, you weren’t sure. But eventually, the strands turned thinner. They felt as tight and ready to snap as your resolve. But when the rope loosened, becoming big enough for your hands to wiggle out, it instead filled your body with quenching relief.

The rope had barely pooled along the concrete floor before you began working on the binding stretching across your chest to hold your torso to the chair. It was tedious and forced your aching arms in horrible positions, but you pulled and pulled at the binding, squirming around to even gain an inch of room.

It kept catching on the bunched-up fabric of your clothes, but it moved. So, so slowly, it moved. It was an effort to keep your breaths silent when you wanted nothing more than to just shout for anyone to come help you. But Peter wasn’t here to help, so you sunk your teeth into your lip and kept quiet as the rope loosened.

Pushing your elbows out, you slipped the rope over your head. You allowed yourself only one unrestrained inhale before bending at the waist and working on the knot tying your ankles to the chair. Your fingers worked quickly, your eyes constantly trained on the workers as you moved. But the sight of that rope falling from your body made you blink away stinging tears.

Your best bet would likely be looking for a back exit and hoping you could sneak by anyone there — or fight your way out if it came to that. On unsteady legs, you raised yourself up, ignoring the wave of sharp pain pulsing at the back of your head and down your spine.

But before you could even take a step, get a real breath of freedom in your lungs, a sharp blade appeared at your neck.

“Going somewhere, sunshine?”

Within an instant, William Beaumont appeared next to you, and had he not held a tight grip to your upper arm, you might have collapsed. Though the blade pressed against you, your body instinctually writhed to get away from him. But even in the dim lighting, you saw the darkness that clung to him, the stillness in his eyes, the heavy weight he held. This wasn’t the Will you met before.

“Or Rose, is it?” he asked, his voice cold and calculated.

He pulled you forward and yanked your arms behind you. Your throat felt tight, your chest ready to rip open as you felt a zip tie tighten around your wrists — the plastic rubbing right where the rope had been just minutes ago. It had been too easy. Did he give you that hope on purpose? Just a lion toying with its food? A wretched feeling of fear shot through you at the thought. 

Will shoved you back in the chair, a labored grunt shooting out of your lungs and a dizziness hitting you. Once he was sure you weren’t going to get up again, he took a step back, careful to keep the long blade pointed at your throat. 

You dully registered a piece of wood rolling to your feet as Will aimlessly paced before you, kicking scattered debris. Sweat coated his skin, his hair damp against his forehead. For a minute, he just wordlessly walked back and forth, his eyes staring unfocused toward the ground. But you couldn’t look at his face for long, not with the sunken shadows settling into each curve of his expression. He almost looked sickly. Your gaze instead dropped to the handgun tucked into the back of his waistband; then you looked to the sharp piece of metal in his hand, recognizing it as one of the wrecked pieces from the Green Goblin’s glider.

When he paused, your breaths stopping too, he turned to stare at you. “Where’s my suit?” he asked, simply and without room for negotiation.

Despite the nearly deafening roaring of your heartbeat, you held his stare and willed your voice to come out steady. “Where’s your father?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you wondered how you hadn’t ever seen the similarities between those two before — the eerie air around them. 

“Ellis is a bit busy at the moment. Why? Want to snoop around his mansion some more?” He tilted his head, pursing his lips just slightly. The look brought an anger next to your fear — anger and frustration that they could do good with what they had and keep their promises, but they were just adding more filth to the city.

He came closer then, squatting down so he was nearly eye level with you. You could barely stand to look at him this close, but you did your best not to flinch away. It was just another character you had to play. 

Almost unnoticeable, you saw him wince in pain as he lowered. Watching him, you swallowed the fear trickling down your spine and asked, “Feeling sore?” At his unimpressed look, you merely squared your shoulders, raising your chin.

A breathy half-laugh escaped his lips. He stared down at his hand as he flexed it.  “Jus’ some growing pains…” He shrugged. “ No change comes without a cost.”

“And is the cost worth all this?” you asked, your eyes motioning to the wreckage of the warehouse behind him.

“I’m just living up to the Beaumont family name. We’re cutting through endless miles of red tape with a snap of my fingers. I think you know the answer.”

“Your fingers?” you questioned. “Ellis is making you do all the dirty work?”

Will just rolled his eyes, his grip growing tighter on the blade. Letting out a sharp breath, he stood up, his body wavering just barely as he did so. Still, you went rigid as he towered over you. “Where’s the suit?”

You shook your head, trying to stay calm. But your resolve, this mask, pulled in all directions. “You said you wanted to educate people. What kind of change can be worth whatever you have planned? Worth a super suit and bodily experiments?” You remembered the way he’d bent the shelving’s metal like it was nothing.

“I prefer the term enhancements actually. Because they have made me better. Made it easier to ‘negotiate’ with clients. To educate the city on who really controls things around here.” He stared down at you, letting his words sink in.

Your tone rose, a tightness taking hold of your throat. “And who controls it? It’s certainly not you if your daddy’s bossing you around.” Despite the cold anger flaring behind his features, you continued. “Who says he won’t just keep you as his little lackey to do his bidding forever?”

His jaw twitched, his hand gripping the blade harder. You fought the terrified waves of nausea sitting in your stomach as he said, “Shut your mouth. You know nothing about the empire he’s planned for me.”

Your voice lowered with venom pooling around your tongue, one eyebrow raising. “Oh, and he’d never lie for his own personal gain, right? Even at the harm of others?”

“Where’s the suit?” he gritted out.

“I don’t know.”

You jolted backward as he slammed the metal blade against one of the shelves. The echoing clang of the hit made you curl into yourself, the blood draining from your heart.

His hand raised high, clenched above his head, before it slowly unfurled. He pressed his fingers into his temples. “I’m not in the fucking mood for this.” Punctuating each word with a step closer, he said, “Where. Is. The. Suit?” 

A pulsing vein appeared along his neck, his breathing coming harder. Your hope of getting out of here dwindled with each second he got closer to losing it. 

Trying to keep your voice calm, you said, “Will, I swear I don’t know.”

He charged toward you then, gripping your chin in his hand despite the yelp you let out. “You’ve come to this warehouse before. You’ve been in our house. You stole blueprints. And you think I’m going to believe you?”

You let out a shaky exhale, muscles twitching and screaming at you to get away from him. “I never broke in here. I wouldn’t be able to take all those boxes of the suit by myself, not without being seen. I don’t know where it is.”

His gaze considered you, roaming across your face like he was listing all the ways to torture the information from you. “Then you had help. Maybe that little ‘husband’ of yours knows — he might talk more than you when we find him.” He paused, his hold on you growing a little tighter, making you wince. “And that spider will talk when we string him up and force it out of him.”

Your expression dropped, your eyebrows tightening together. So they didn’t know Peter was Spider-Man, at least not yet. And if you could get out of here alone, it could stay that wa-

A flash of red flew past the windows near the warehouse’s ceiling. Any sense of calm, no matter how forced, dissipated into uncatchable smoke. No, he couldn’t be here. He couldn’t bring himself right into the waiting mouth of the beast that was hunting him. Silently, you pulled at the zip tie holding your wrists. 

“Speaking of cutting through red tape…” Will muttered as a thud on top of the roof had his gaze shooting upward. Silence covered the entire building — all of the workers immediately stopped their movements. 

You could barely slump forward when Will let go of your chin before he brought the blade back to your neck, his body standing behind you. His words echoed as he called out, “Come on out, Spider-Man! I promise we’ll let her go…”

Your eyes squeezed shut as the pain in the back of your head pounded harder, tears threatening to pool on your eyelashes. You whispered, “And then what? Where does this end, Will?” 

A jagged smile was evident in his words. “Who says the fun ever has to end?” His hands forced your head to turn, your gaze pointed toward the warehouse entrance. “Isn’t that right, father?” Will asked loudly, calling to the man walking toward you both with a gun at the ready.

The sight dropped a deadening weight into your stomach. Ellis looked wild, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His usual well-kempt look was forgotten, his suit ragged and hair free from its slicked-back style. More guards continued to enter the warehouse after him, and you couldn’t stop your entire body from shaking.

“Or maybe the fun’s just beginning,” Will said into the curve of your ear. It made you stretch to get away from him, but that only pushed your neck further into the blade — pain prickling along your skin.

You revolted against the dread, the horrific realization, that you may watch Peter die here — while he was trying to save you. It took everything in you to not let it incapacitate your ability to think or even function.

Ellis directed the guards this way and that. You watched with unfocused attention as he followed the large group up toward the roof. Normally, you would say he was sending them to their demise with Spider-Man up there. But an injured, desperate Spider-Man? That struck icy fear into your veins.

And you’d never known Spider-Man to have a noisy approach — careless enough to make noise and draw the enemy’s attention to himself. He’d have to play it smart, which became evident a few minutes later when Will yelled to one of his guards… and got no response. Peter was picking them off one by one in here while they searched for him outside.

Will’s free hand gripped tightly to your shoulder, his body continuously moving in small twitches. You could feel how on edge he was, and you wondered just how dangerous this family could be. Full power over the city, and all they needed now was to remove the one man stopping them.

You fought to keep your breathing even, your mind clear, so you could stay calm. And it worked to ground you just as a web shot from the sky. At blinding speed, it hit Will’s arm, sending the blade flying away from you. It clattered across the floor, the sound the sweetest thing you’d ever heard. Before he could fully realize what had happened, you lifted your foot and brought it down against his knee using every bit of strength you had.

By the time he’d crumpled to the floor, you’d run the other way. His scream froze your heart, but you knew he wouldn’t be down long with whatever experiments were coursing through him. Weaving between shelves with your hands still bound behind you, you tried to find somewhere safe — maybe the back entrance you’d planned to go to before.

But there were sure to be more guards outside now, and you couldn’t get far with your hands tied together. Your steps slowed, trying to become silent as you looked around for something sharp. Among the debris were ammo, rope, chemicals… but nothing to cut the zip tie. 

Will’s words sounded far enough away, but that didn’t stop your head from whipping in his direction as he yelled, “You’ll fucking regret that!” Without so much as a breath, you took small steps backward away from the threat.

You only got a few feet when a gloved hand wrapped around your mouth. Before you could even scream, you were lifted into the air. The warehouse passed in a blur, but relief broke through as you felt summer night air hit your skin — as you recognized the sounds of the man swinging you both a few blocks away.

The two of you landed in a different alley, this one empty and finally safe. A second later, you felt the snap of the zip tie, and your wrists came free.

“Thought you might need a han-”

He only spoke those few words before you turned around to lunge into his arms. A quiet grunt shot out of him as you hugged him until your arms shook. You sniffled back tears budding up, your fingers clenching tight onto his suit. You breathed in him.

“Peter,” you whispered against him.

“Uh… I’m not sure who that is. The name’s Spide-”

“Shut up,” you interrupted, shaking your head as you pressed in closer to him. You could have sobbed when his arms wrapped around you too. To have him here, real, and breathing felt like the aching quiet after waking up from an unending nightmare, like the first rays of morning sunlight peeking above the horizon.

But the memory of when the two of you last spoke washed over your senses in an unrelenting tidal wave. You pulled back, your hold on him tightening as you looked at him. Your breath fizzed away like bubbling remnants of the crashed wave.

Blood splattered across his suit, broken up by dirt and rips along his body. His chest rapidly rose and fell, tired in a way you’d never seen the superhero. He’d pulled his arms from you— one of his hands rested against the building, using it to hold his weight. His other hand wrapped around his left side where blood-coated webs held together what looked to be a bullet wound. But what stole the breath from your lungs, what grabbed you and forced you to come to terms with all that’d happened, was his face. 

A jagged tear in his mask stretched from his cheek to his forehead, leaving one of his bloodshot eyes exposed. The skin around it looked marred with cuts and aching bruises. At the top of the rip, pieces of his shaggy hair stuck to his forehead. He was barely recognizable. Your bottom lip trembled, no matter how hard you tried to stop it. But before you could open your mouth, Peter brought you back in against him, hugging you tight. He whispered, “Thank God you’re okay.”

Pressing your hands against his chest, you created a little bit of space despite how your body protested. “Peter… are you okay?”

His exposed eye traced across your face, the soft brown looking paler than usual. “I’m fine. I got the suit out — and hidden. That’s what matters.”

You gave him an exhausted look because that was not all that mattered, not as he stood there looking like that, but you didn’t argue further. He was here. And stubborn.

So you just allowed yourself to do what you hadn’t done before the fundraiser. Raising your hand, you paused for a brief moment before gingerly fixing his hair. You tucked the strands back under the mask before swiping a thumb across his forehead. 

His hand came up to grab your wrist, lowering it from his hair but not letting go of you.

“How are you doing?” he asked. His fingers were gentle against the marks on your wrist.

You blinked against the throbbing in your head but nodded, breathing out, “Uh… yeah. I’ll be okay.”

And too many other things to say passed your mind, some you wanted to tell him and others you couldn’t. With a hoarse voice and downcast eyes, you settled on, “You came.” 

You hoped he heard all you meant underneath those two words.

And you didn’t have time to register his answer — “of course” — as he moved his grip from your wrist down to your hand. He squeezed once then let it return to your side.

“Okay, I need to head back,” he said, raising his arm to shoot a web back in the direction of the warehouse, “please head to the hospital, and stay safe. I’d bring you there myself, but–” He gestured to his injured side, his face wincing in pain.

Instantly, your face twisted, a dizziness coming over you as any relief you had shattered to the ground. “You’re not going back in there. Not like this,” you nearly pleaded, your words coming out faster. “You’ve done enough. Call- call the police, and let them handle it.”

He shook his head. “I already called them. But with Will’s powers, it’ll be a massacre. I’ve got to go.” He said it with such certainty, with no room for argument. He tried to step past you, his gaze stoically not meeting yours. 

“Then I’m coming too.” You stepped to the side with him. You hurriedly explained, “Something’s not right with Will, like his body is struggling with whatever’s coursing through him. So I think if we-”

“What? No. I mean, yes,” he told you. “Will is using DNA from supervillians, and I think his body’s rejecting it. But no, you’re not coming with me.”

“Could we somehow increase his symptoms then, or speed them up?” Your palms came up to rest against his chest. His heartbeat pounded rapidly beneath your touch.

“I mean, probably. If we incubated it with heat or lights maybe, but…” He cocked his head. “Stop talking like we’re doing this together. We’re not.”

Turning your chin up at him, you argued, “Well the plan where you get yourself killed sucks.”

“Well I happen to like the plan where you get killed a lot less, so you’re staying,” he said, raising an arm to shoot out a web again. He held stern, but you heard the exhaustion coating his words, how tired he really was. 

Spider-Man always had a plan, Peter always knew what to do. And now it seemed his only plan was to stop Will at all costs — even at the cost of his own life. You shoved away the emotion that thought brought bubbling up your throat.

You clenched your hands into fists, refusing to let him go so easily. “Peter, you’re not leaving me in the dark anymore. The secrets and hiding have to stop here.”

You watched his eyebrow sink into a frown, his voice becoming more serious than you’d ever heard. “Secrets and hiding? Yeah, I have to keep my identity hidden, but don’t you get why I did all of this?” He asked as if it was the most obvious question. His hands gestured out to the side as he took a step back — your own hands falling away from him.

He turned his head away from you, and you could only watch his jaw clench and unclench with each passing second. The silence rang in your ears, until he breathed out, “It was to keep you safe. ‘Cause all this? It does no good if… if you’re gone.”

You held your breath, feeling your heart beating wildly throughout you. Heat crawled up your body at his words. Quietly, you asked, “What does me being gone have to do with stopping Beaumont?”

Shaking his head, Peter breathed out the ghost of a laugh. In an instant, he stepped so closely that it nearly gave you whiplash. Slowly, the tips of his fingers slipped under his mask to pull it above his mouth. He shifted even closer, his lips merely an inch from yours as his hands cupped your jaw. His body overtook all of your senses. He whispered, “Christ, are you this dense on purpose?” 

With that, his lips pressed against yours, your eyes fluttering shut on instinct. At first, you didn’t move at all — afraid that it would break whatever moment you somehow found yourself in. Thoughts and emotions yelled for your attention, for you to analyze what was happening, but none were quite as loud as the feeling of his body melding against yours. That familiar warmth of him enveloped you, and all you could do was melt with him.

It wasn’t like the hurried kissing at the fundraiser, all teeth and tongue and newness. This almost felt familiar, as if you could come home to this every day. Your hands snaked up, holding onto his shoulders as he dulled your senses into a fuzziness. You felt your mind nearly go blank — but not completely.

With waning will power, you pulled away, trying not to relish in the soft noise that escaped his throat as you did so. You both caught your breath — the yearning exhales mingling in the small space between you. And with the way his hands still held onto you, now dropped down along your body to find a home on your hips, you knew there was no way he’d let you go with him.

“I… you, uh, need to get back” you began with a long, heavy breath. Swiping your tongue across your bottom lip, you took a resistant step backward. He kept one hand on yours as you moved. “Just, Peter, please be safe.”

He slowly nodded, and you watched every movement as he grabbed his mask and brought it back down. His thumb rubbed along your skin. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. And after…”

“After?” you asked, smiling at him.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “After. Let me take you out.”

“After,” you promised. You swallowed, wrapping a hand around his forearm and squeezing once. But before he could move away, you said, “Wait! Do you have anything I could use? To defend myself, I mean. I’d just feel safer — in case I happen to run into their guards on my way to the hospital.” You offered a closed mouth smile, one that told him not to worry too much about you.

“Uh, yeah…” he said, patting along his suit and up to his wrists. Removing part of his left webshooter, he set a small metal piece into your palm. You thought it looked almost like a flash drive as he curved your fingers over it.

“It’s not ideal, but it’s the best I have right now. It helps control my electric webs, so you can use this part as a sort of taser if someone comes at you,” he explained, waiting until you nodded before pulling you into a hug. It crushed your body, feeling like a hug you’d give someone you might not see for a long time. Or ever again.

So, you whispered, “Good luck,” and watched as he stepped away and swung away slowly. One of his hands still held tight to his side.

You waited there for a minute, bringing a thumb up to your lips. You felt how they still tingled and how they curved into a smile. But as soon as you were sure Peter had made it back to the warehouse already, you began making your way there with quick steps.

Maybe you were in over your head. Peter would probably call you stupid or reckless. But if he couldn’t handle if something happened to you, then he’d have to understand why you weren’t leaving him to go in there alone.

So you found yourself marching back to the place you never hoped to return to. Intense pounding went through your head with each step. Your palm felt slick with sweat, but you held tight onto the makeshift taser until your knuckles began to ache.

You were glad the warehouse was so secluded — hopefully no passerbyers would get caught in the fray. Or hear the commotion coming from inside. The muffled noise came from the far side of the building, near the front, so you hugged the opposite side of the alley as you made your way to the back. You guessed that they all concentrated on where Peter must have made an appearance, which only left one guard standing at the door.

Eyes flicking to the ground, you caught a glimpse of rock sitting in the cracks of the alleyway. Silently picking it up and pressing yourself into the shadows, you took a steadying breath that did little to calm your nerves in the midst of this insane idea. Still, your shaky arm reeled back to throw the rock up and over the guard, making it land on the other side of him.

As soon as he turned away from you, gun trained on the strange noise, you stepped from the dark and crept toward him. You gave yourself no time to second guess yourself before coming up behind him. Your internal monologue repeated, Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god as you raised the taser.

But as you went to press the taser into the guard, he turned back around in shock — throwing his elbow into your cheek in the process. A silent groan sat in your throat as your mouth hung open, a loud ringing going through your head. Pain bloomed outward from your face, and it took a moment to push past your swimming vision. Using all your strength, you lunged at him again and shoved the taser into the flesh of his neck.

In an instant, his body began convulsing. You did your best to try and let his weight down gently, but he just slid to the ground alongside you, unconscious and still twitching. Pushing him off, you sat on your knees and tried to catch your breath. You let the pain slowly dull with each passing second.

As you sat there, a glimpse of white against his dark uniform caught your eye — an ID badge hanging off his hip. It worked perfectly against the card reader at the back door, unlocking with a soft click for you to slip through. And there you were again, stood in the mouth of the beast once again.

In the back hallway away from the open floor, you could hear crashing and yelling coming from across the building. You only made it a few feet before footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway. Deep voices echoed off the concrete walls, each word louder than the next. You didn’t move or breathe until eventually, finally, they began to grow quieter.

From where you stood, heart still in your throat, you could tell the warehouse lights were still dimmed. So you searched along the walls, ears always listening for anyone coming back. You opened up the door after finding a circuit breaker, tracing a finger down the length of it. None of the switches were labeled, so after a moment of consideration, you flipped them all on — washing the building in bright fluorescents.

And just a few feet down the hall sat the thermostat. It was set to 65 degrees, but your hand quickly turned the dial up to the 89 degree mark. Within a few seconds, you heard the heater turn on and rumble through the vents. 

You nodded, hopeful that this could begin weakening Will enough for Peter to take him out. While bleeding and injured. While dozens of guards also tried to kill him. How could you let him come back here? How could he come back here and make you come back here to help his ass?

You began to turn around to go find him when a heavy hand landed on your shoulder.

“Freeze-”

A gasp caught in your throat as you whipped around out of instinct and fear, immediately shoving the makeshift taser at the woman. It connected with the bottom of her jaw. With wide eyes, you watched as her body shook and fell to the ground just like the other guard. Your hand came up to cover your mouth while you stared. You didn’t think you would ever get used to that.

Slowly, you backed away down the hall. You did manage to grab her gun and hide it on a shelf when you made your way out there — rather than take it and risk shooting yourself or Peter, even if he did have superpowers.

Superpowers that you almost began to resent as you stepped into the open area of the warehouse — and the man himself immediately dropped down in front of you. You placed your hand over your mouth and swallowed the yelp that threatened to escape. Instead, you watched Peter as he guided the both of you behind a shelf. 

His chest rose and fell much too quickly, his stance wavering and unsteady. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to affect his attitude though, as he came closer and angrily whispered, “What the hell are you doing here? I can’t believe you did this.”

You gave him a soft, disbelieving look, a closed-lipped smile on your face. “Yes, you can.”

He brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. A long sigh left his mouth. “Alright,” he said, “I can believe it. But you need to leave now.” He tried weakly pushing you toward the back door again.

You didn’t budge. “Oh, okay. Yeah, now that I’ve snuck in to help — by electrocuting two guards into unconsciousness, by the way — I’ll just go on my merry way,” you whispered back, twisting your face into a mocking expression. “How about you shut up and just let me help?”

“That’s why you asked for the weapon?” He quietly groaned before looking at you again, his head cocking. “Two guards? That’s not bad.”

“Thank you. Now, I’ve turned up the heat and lights. So let’s go.”

For a moment, he considered you. His eye covered by the mask looked expressionless, distant. But his exposed eye made you pause — his gaze feeling resigned, desperate in a way that made your heart twist. You didn’t want to imagine the other compromises or sacrifices Spider-Man has had to make over the years. And you didn’t have time to. So you swallowed those thoughts and simply grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his to pull him farther into the warehouse.

As you slowly moved down the aisles, you whispered, “Give me one of your web shooters.”

You already knew his answer from the blank stare he shot sideways at you. “I’m not giving you one of my web shooters. I need them.” Part of his words told you he really did need them to get you both through this. The other part said he didn’t trust you to not accidentally shoot him with his own webs.

“Well don’t you have an extra one or something?” you shot back.

“Do you see this suit? Where could I even keep an extra web shooter on me?” he quietly asked, his free hand raising outstretched and exasperated.

You let your eyes trail across the suit per his suggestion — until Peter said, “Okay, that’s enough ogling.” And even for the briefest of moments, it felt good to smile with him. 

But at another crash several aisles down, he stiffened. You felt his rapid heartbeat pulse against your skin as he held up a hand. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

You tried to squeeze his hand, to give him some sort of mention to be careful or to not get himself killed out there, but his fingers slipped through yours as he instantly swung away. Your palm radiated leftover warmth as you hid, thinking through the plan. Hopefully, the two of you wouldn’t have to wait long for Will to show symptoms, which would just leave many guards and Ellis. Peter seemed confident that they couldn’t fight their way out of this.

But under the commotion of guards around the warehouse, yelling and fighting coming from seemingly everywhere, you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps until they were too close. Whipping around, you saw Ellis appear at the end of the aisle, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He raised his gun, aiming it right at you as he said, “Found you now.” His voice sounded colder, void of any of the charm he had when speaking to the public.

Instinctively, you backed away from him — from the man that made cold dread creep through your body and steal the breath from your lungs — but your steps stuttered when a web came from the ceiling and yanked the gun from Ellis’ grip. It flew upward, but you didn’t wait to see Ellis’ reaction before silently thanking Peter and sprinting the other way.

Only to be met with Will standing on the other side of the long aisle. 

His twisted smile and disheveled hair falling into his face fueled the icy weight dropping into your gut. His bloody fingers tightened around the end of the blade he held in one hand. The other gripped a pistol.

You turned to look back at Ellis to see him fighting against more webs. As Will approached with heavy steps, his arm shaking as he aimed his gun at you, you forced your body to move.

Without thinking, you ducked and crawled past boxes sitting on the large shelf and emerged into the next aisle. You couldn’t think about the thudding sounds of bullets hitting metal around you.

You knew he’d be on you soon, his mutated powers making him too powerful. So you crawled across to the next aisle, pushing aside scattered equipment before throwing yourself through that shelf too. You went through a few more aisles and shelves to create at least a little distance. In the last shelf you passed, you hid yourself between the boxes. You stilled just a second before you heard him enter the aisle.

Clamping a hand over your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut as his footsteps grew louder with each passing second. Your other hand began to ache from gripping the taser between your fingers.

“Run all you like. It won’t change how this all ends,” Will seethed, his voice becoming closer to you. A raggedness filled his words, and you hoped that meant the plan was working.

Still, Peter’s name repeated over and over in your mind, a silent prayer for him to come help. But you could hear more guards approaching, each one feeling like an extra shovel digging your graves.

The guards seemed to be coming to find the commotion, but from the sounds, it seemed like Peter was holding them off. You could only imagine the exhaustion and pain riddling his body as he never stopped fighting.

And you hoped he wouldn’t stop as a shaking, powerful hand wrapped itself around your arm and yanked you from the shelf. No sound could escape your mouth — every inch of it went dry in the face of Will’s bloodshot eyes. 

One hand reached to claw at his grip while the other brought the taser up to his neck. But he knocked it away before sending you flying from the aisles into the open space. You heard a growl rip from his throat before it disappeared under the ringing in your ears, a breathless groan dribbling from your agape lips, as you fell against the concrete.

In between slow blinking and painful winces, you caught sight of Peter coming down and fighting against Will. Even with the sweat starting to bead along your skin, the extra heat and lights weren’t enough yet to weaken him. You saw how fast his punches were, how slow Peter was to dodge them.

Your arms trembled as you pushed yourself onto one elbow. Gritting your teeth, you ignored the ache throbbing behind your eyes. You began to stand up again only for a blow to knock you back down and sliding across the floor.

“God, I’ve just had fucking enough of you. Stay down for once, sweetheart. Okay?”

Past watery vision, you raised your head to see a bloody Ellis pointing a gun down at you. You held your breath, not daring to move as nausea and fear turned to sludge in your stomach. His knuckles look torn and raw, his suit ripped along his shoulders and arms. One hand of his ran through his hair, leaving a smear of blood along his hairline.

Just as you were to silently call for Peter again or to close your eyes and wait for this all to be over, a strangled groan echoed throughout the warehouse. A second later, Peter’s ragged body flew from the shelves and hit the ground, sliding until he slammed into the building’s wall. A cry escaped your mouth at seeing his limp form, and you only breathed again once you saw him beneath the debris and dust. Blood dribbled from his shoulder. More rips spread along his suit. But weakly, slowly, you could see his chest continue to rise and fall.

Before you could try to crawl over to him, Will emerged from the aisles — his smile victorious even as his muscles shook. From where you lay, you couldn’t see any more guards. Peter must have gotten them all. Now you just needed a little more time.

“His current state is going to make it harder to get answers out of him, William,” Ellis said. He stretched his neck side to side as he continued to train his gun directly at your heart.

Will let out a breathy laugh as he made his way closer. “I was just having some fun testing out my powers.” He flexed his hands in front of him, his heartbeat visible in the raised veins just beneath his skin. “Besides, I’m sure there are ways to get him to talk…”  

His gaze rose to connect with yours.

He dropped the end of his blade to the ground, letting it drag against the concrete with each step. The slicing sound may as well have been the blade itself running along your throat.

You began to shuffle backward, needing to get as far away from him and his torture plan as possible. Your teeth dug so far into your cheek that you began to taste blood. Fresh tears pooled along your eyes as you called out, “When were you going to tell him, Ellis?”

Still several feet away, Will paused for a moment, the blade hanging looser from his grasp. His eyes flicked to his father’s.

Ellis' shout echoed across the building, making you flinch. “What are you doing? Grab her. We need to leave.”

You didn’t let either of them think before blurting out, “When were you going to tell your son that his body’s rejecting the DNA? That they’re going to kill him?”

Ellis nearly growled out his next words as he stalked closer. “Shut. Up. You don’t know anything, you worthless girl.”

You scrambled back farther, your hands searching for anything along the ground. Your fingers grasped a broken shard of glass, bringing it in front of your body. It looked so miniscule, so useless, trembling before him.

“Is that true?”

Will’s words broke through, and for a brief moment, you recognized him again — he was the man you danced with. Only this time, he looked empty.

The question made Ellis stop this time, his eyes squeezing shut for a second.

“Father?”

You saw how Will’s skin looked red and blotchy, how his breathing became harder with each passing second. He knew something was wrong.

“Tell him, Ellis. Tell him why he’s becoming weaker by the minute.” You tried to keep your voice steady, and though it wavered and scratched, it still struck the tense thread holding them together.

For too long, no one spoke. You fought to not look away from Ellis’ stare that pierced through you. Every breath, every tiny move he made, you watched him from behind the broken glass.

Will pleaded, shouting,“Dad!”

Finally, Ellis broke from the trance and dropped the gun just slightly, turning toward Will. You took the brief moment to glance to Peter. In… out. In… out. He was here. He was okay. He would be okay.

You turned back when Ellis let out a resigned sigh, refusing to fully meet his son’s gaze. “We are working on a cure… a treatment to stabilize your body’s reactions. There was no use in worrying you before we found it.”

“Except that tiring his body worsens it — it kills him faster,” you gritted past split lips, despite flinching when Ellis aimed the gun at you again.

“Shut the hell up!” he yelled, gripping the gun’s handle until his knuckles turned white. You raised your chin higher.

“Is she right?” Will asked.

“I…” Ellis began, groaning and dropping the gun to his side. He reached his other hand toward Will, turning toward him completely. “It’s…” And for once, you heard Ellis Beaumont have nothing to say — no lies to spew. Still, he approached Will, trying to embrace him.

But Will backed away, his tripping over one another. “You did this to me,” he whispered, almost in awe. Then, his voice rose with each word until he was shouting. “You used me as some lap dog and knew that it was destroying me from the inside out?”

Ellis approached again. “Son–”

“No! Get the hell off me,” Will screamed, pressing his hands into his father’s chest and shoving with all his strength.

Ellis stumbled, and you relished in the way his mouth opened and shut without saying anything. 

“No. Don’t say another goddamn thing. No more telling me what to do like I’m a child,” he paused, his jaw clenching. His irises seemed to glow a sickly green, his voice becoming deep and alien. “Like I’m just some tool to get you your money.”

What lit the awaiting wick, though, was Ellis — in all his confidence and cowardice for his own safety — raised his gun at his son. You swore you saw the instant Will lost all semblance of control.

His body surged forward, tackling his father to the ground. Ellis yelled out, but it cut short when he hit the concrete. Any noise he made disappeared under the sound of Will’s fist hitting his dad. An animalistic growl rang out, and for a moment, you sat entranced, watching the pain pass across both of their faces as they battled. 

You stared at the tears flying from Will’s eyes until your arm could no longer hold up the shard of glass. Its sharp edges pressed into your skin, but as they continued fighting, you dropped it to crawl toward Peter’s body.

Your eyes stayed on the two men while you passed over debris and the occasional webbed-up guard. You pushed away the wreckage despite the aching fire licking across every part of your body. Glimpses of red peaked through as you uncovered Peter. Immediately, you felt his chest for a pulse, for his ragged-but-stable breaths. A gasp escaped your mouth as you felt it dimly beating. You then moved to put pressure on the bullet wound on his side. 

The pained groan he let out choked your heart. On the tip of your tongue, his name stood begging to leap off the edge and surround his body until he was okay again.

Instead, with darting eyes and trembling lips, you whispered, “Spidey.”

When he didn’t respond, you took hold of his arms and shook him slightly. Tears dripped down your cheeks, your voice becoming more desperate. “C’mon. We have to go. You have to get out of here.” You pushed his exposed hair back under his mask again. He barely stirred.

“Please,” you cried out, pulling on him, prepared to try and drag him out of there. “You can’t ditch me, asshole. I’m not doing this alone.”

Beneath the yelling of Ellis’ pleading and Will’s incessant punches, you heard Peter murmur something. You didn’t dare breathe, only whispering for him to repeat.

“You’re… an… asshole,” Peter grumbled, his face twisting as he opened his eyes. His head lolled to the side, a dry swallow passing down his throat. If he wasn’t in so much pain, you might’ve thought about hitting him for that. Instead, a splitting smile overtook your face.

But you didn’t have time to stop when Peter’s hands tensed around you. He moved just slightly to look toward the Beaumonts, prompting you to whip your head in their direction again.

You looked just in time to see Will wavering above Ellis, his eyes blinking slower and slower. A second later, he slumped forward and off of Ellis’ body onto the ground. Will appeared to be breathing still, but he was weak. 

Any momentary relief you felt vanished as Ellis sat up, that wild look back on his face. Your hold on Peter tightened, your body thrown back into desperate fear. Ellis reached a few feet out to grab the blade Will had before training his eyes on you — like a predator locked onto its prey.

“You little-”

Grabbing Peter’s nearly limp arm, you repeatedly pressed down on his web shooter’s trigger before Ellis could finish his sentence. Webs flew out and encompassed the man, wrapping him and sticking him to the floor.

“Thank you,” Peter muttered. “He was giving me a headache.”

You were sure it was the multiple head injuries doing that, but you appreciated the humor while your heart rate returned to normal.

“C’mon. We’re leaving,” you urged him. With all of your strength, you did your best to support Peter’s weight as he slowly stood and staggered onto you. You could hear the groans he continued to bite back.

You held onto him tight, keeping him balanced. “Okay, do you have your phone on you?”

“Yeah…”

You waited for him to fish it out from a slim pocket. Using your free hand, you took several pictures of the Beaamonts lying there and the ruined warehouse. Your investigative heart wanted to take a hundred images from every angle, but your rational mind told you to leave. It took all your effort to move on. Trying to ignore the dizziness in the corners of your vision, you wrapped an arm around Peter’s side and walked to the back of the warehouse.

You both passed through the back door, out over the threshold of that place — finally out into the night for good. He’d be okay.

Along the warehouse’s high windows, flashes of police lights reflected down onto Peter’s face. He gritted his teeth and raised his arm to the skyline, staring into your eyes. “Ready, sunshine?”

You let yourself be pulled in closer to his side, blinking away the stinging tears.

And from this angle, with cascading cherry and violet lights raining down onto Peter’s profile, you found that you didn’t mind red and blue so much anymore.

Nodding, you slowly drew your eyes to his. “Ready.”

—

Your words spilled through gritted teeth, your jaw clenched tight. “I hate you so much, Peter.” 

Your palms were sweaty as you forced yourself to stay focused despite that rage building in your chest. It continued up your body, crawling along your throat.

“Really? After all I’ve done for you?” Peter asked, his tone incredulous. You could feel the waves of heat rolling off of him.

Your expression sinking into a frown, you muttered, “It’s only fitting, considering that you lie and hide secrets.”

“Oh come on…” He scoffed, holding up a hand. “That’s low. And if you think about it, it was really only one secret!”

“That you lied about multiple times!”

He sat back next to you against the couch cushions, the weight of him drawing you closer. “You’re just a sore loser, and you’re angry that I whooped your ass in Mario Kart. Again,” he said, and you finally turned your gaze from the screen to look at him.

Light streamed in through his apartment’s window, the afternoon sun dancing across his face. His eyes turned to a soft caramel under its attention. His hair was undone, feathering along his forehead. Slowly, he grew closer, raising one eyebrow as if daring you to tell him he’s wrong.

Crossing your arms, determined not to be affected by his stare, you told him, “I literally beat you in the last game.”

He rolled his eyes. “Cause you cheated!”

“Look who’s the sore loser now,” you laughed out, your mouth turning into a gentle smile.

The two of you were face to face on the couch, breaths mixing together. A moment of silence passed, Peter’s softening eyes roaming across you. His thumb reached over to brush along the outside of your thigh. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”

You didn’t try to fight your wide grin or the heat rising to your cheeks. In a whisper, you asked, “You think I’m adorable?”

His only answer was a slight huff as he leaned forward, kissing you. It only lasted a moment, your lips chasing his when he pulled away. “I’m gonna grab a drink, don’t sabotage my controller while I’m gone,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want anything?”

“I’ll take whatever’s on tap,” you said, laughing when he rolled his eyes.

Slowly, he rose from the couch, taking heavy breaths as he winced. His healing injuries — mental and physical — were better, but they weren’t gone altogether. Neither were yours. 

They probably wouldn’t be for a while. Though, after waking up panicked and breathless from repeated nightmares, it helped having someone there to bring you back down. It helped having someone take care of yourself when that seemed impossible. And it helped knowing you weren’t alone in this.

You watched him make his way to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge. In these past days since the warehouse incident, it sometimes scared you how easy this was. Staying at his apartment together, helping one another recover. Your things sat scattered around his place, like they belonged. You wondered when he was going to say something, to ask you to go back home and tend to your wounds alone. When you both healed, would it all go back to how it was?

When a notification sound came from Peter’s phone, your eyes drew down to it for a second. Not knowing whether it was urgent Spider-Man business — not that he should’ve been doing it given his state — you called out, “Your phone dinged!”

Head still in the fridge, his words muffled, Peter called back, “Can you check it for me?”

You paused for a moment, letting a feeling of warmth settle in your chest before grabbing his phone. Just from the notification preview, you could tell what it was.

“Add another tally to your offers to interview for a job,” you told him, shaking your head — a smile evident in your voice. “This one’s for a junior photographer position.”

“What does that bring us up to now?” he asked, closing the refrigerator. He brought a glass of water and what you assumed was Dr. Pepper that’d gone flat.

“I think we’re tied at three each — though they’re just asking us to apply and interview.” You let out a sigh, trying not to get your hopes up. “It’s no guarantee of a job. They’re just interested in our story.”

Peter pointed a finger at you from around the glass. “Our story that kicks ass and put the corrupt city manager and his son away. That’s a piece that belongs on something bigger than The Daily Bugle.”

“You really think so?”

You looked up at him, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Sunshine, the greatest compliment Jameson could spit out was that it’s a ‘mighty fine’ story — before obviously yelling at us for not getting more pictures of Spider-Man during it… and that our injuries were no excuse, of course,” he told you with a wry sarcasm as he set the glasses down on the coffee table. Sitting next to you, his expression softened. His hand wrapped around yours. “But now you have the chance at something bigger.”

You grinned back at him. “But how could I ever pass up a job with… how’d he say it? ‘Minimal benefits and guaranteed maximum overtime’?”

Peter’s laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating a comforting rhythm against you. Next to you, your phone buzzed this time. Picking it up, you told him, “Oh, another one! It’s 4 to 3 now — I’m in the lead.”

His grin made yours even wider, and you were unable to fight it as his hands cupped your jaw, his fingers careful to avoid the bruises along your cheekbone. “You see? You’ve got the whole world in the palm of your hand.” His eyes pulled you in, begging you to fall into him completely as he pressed his lips to yours once again.

You could’ve stayed there forever, sitting on that ripped couch in Peter’s apartment that you swore to never return to. Your fingers twisted in the ends of his hair pulling him even closer. The rest of the world melted away for at least a little while, leaving just the two of you in this bubble. When you eventually pulled away, your foreheads rested against one another, your nose nudging against his.

“Oh!” you said, leaning back, “I almost forgot. I picked up a frame while out grocery shopping — I couldn’t help myself.” You stood up, grabbing a bag from the dining table and pulling out a cheap picture frame. The story you’d already cut out from the newspaper felt smooth between your fingers as you carefully placed it in the frame.

You kept it close to your body while looking around for a good spot to hang it up, not that the walls had much — or anything — really on them. Deciding on a nice place between the door and living room, you asked, “Want to do the honors?”

Fishing out a nail from his tool drawer, which was really just a kitchen drawer full of scattered household items, you held it out to Peter along with the frame. It took some willpower to not gasp as he merely pushed the nail into the wall without a hammer and hung up the frame.

Straightening it just right, he stepped back and wrapped his arm around your back. You took it in, the first real decoration in his apartment — the story that brought the two of you together framed against the pale walls. Your names shone clearly at the top, next to the large letters spelling out, “Fundraiser or Fraud? The Beaumont Empire Falls.”

Leaning into him, your palm rubbing circles on his lower back, you asked, “Do you like it?”

His voice came out soft, the words curling around the ends of your body. “It’s perfect.”

It wasn’t, not with the ill-fitting frame or the story that likely needed further digging and refining. But right now, with Peter, it was perfect. You let your mind run through everything you two had gone through together, how you’d ended up here.

After a minute of thinking, though, something kept drawing your attention. Pursing your lips, you turned back to him. “Hey Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“I just have a quick question. When we were trying to get into the fundraiser, you said you ‘knew a guy.’ Did you just mean yourse-”

“Myself? Yeah. I’m the guy,” he told you, nodding repeatedly. Nonchalantly.

You scoffed, slightly laughing. You really were insane to have gone in on this project with him. “And then you made fake IDs and gave me some fake wedding ring so we could sneak in…” you said in disbelief.

Turning to grab his drink from the table, he furrowed his eyebrows. “The ring you borrowed? ‘S not fake — do you still have that, by the way?” he asked, taking a sip. “Need to return that.”

You took a beat staring at him wordlessly. Your mind crossed several things to say that you decided to hold back. “Peter, what do you mean it’s not fake? That giant rock on my finger was real?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it as a favor from a jewelry store. I saved the place from robbers breaking in.” He shrugged, the flannel his wore swaying around his body.

This relationship was going to take years off of you… 

Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to kill you,” you half-heartedly murmured. Your eyes raised to meet his, your finger pointing at him. “You know, you’re so careless about all this. I fucking knew you were Spider-Man for so long.”

“Oh, bullshit,” he laughed out, walking closer to you. “Now you didn’t. And as long as we’re being honest, I was going to give you the Daily Bugle job offer at the end of the internship the whole time. So really… you didn’t have to do any of this.” His face morphed into a teasing cockiness that sparked a fire in your chest.

The two of you stared at one another, eyes alight but mouths fighting back smiles. All at once, a calm washed over you. “Are we done bickering?”

Peter rested his hands on your hips. He nodded softly, sweetly, as if nothing but you filled his mind. “Yeah, we’re done.”

You leaned forward, kissing him once before whispering against his lips, “Great, now grab the controller — ‘m gonna kick your ass in Mario Kart again.”

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