#i am putting him in a blender and drinking him like a smoothie

[vivitalks]

ned chicane is sooo character. he's a skilled burglar but he's broke, he's a sensationalist and a cryptozoologist, he's a pathological liar who's just as persuasive when he's telling the truth as not, he refuses to harm a fellow human being, he runs a terrible and weirdly popular late-night TV show, he constantly tries to protect a town that does not return the favor, he is canonically in possession of george clooney's oscar, he's a self-declared coward who will always put himself in harm's way if it means protecting his friends, he has multiple fake IDs and passports and no one knows his legal name, he's the smartest dumbass you've ever met, he takes a bullet for dani as penance because hurting aubrey was his greatest regret even before they knew each other and he can't hurt her again, he can't let anyone get hurt again, he will not let someone else die because of him. he will not.

#i am putting him in a blender and drinking him like a smoothie #that death scene. jesus almighty #taz #taz amnesty #the adventure zone #the adventure zone amnesty #stuff #ned chicane #ned and aubrey is like. Such a tragic fucking relationship to me #ned duck and aubrey honestly feels like a daughter/uncle/granddad situation to me #and like. just. if i think about it for too long i go crazy

[blamemma]

OMG OMG IM SO EXCITED YOU’RE DOING THE MICRO FIC MEME! Your circus au has a chokehold on me so obviously I need to prompt SEAWEED! But take this in any direction you want.

very very sorry this is not mermaid au themed at all (although i am working on a v small thing for that actually) but this is where my mind went for this one

Martin had texted him, off-handedly, asking if he was free one night this week. Daniel groaned when the text lit up his screen, another Miami night out, or a Vegas pool party, wasn't what his aching bones needed right now, especially the week before Coachella. His diary was blocked off, tanning in the LA heat, sun beaming down on his skin, dirt bikes if he could be bothered to leave the house at all. He replies with a maybe and watches as the bubbles at the bottom of the screen appear, whilst he chucks frozen fruit into his blender.

Sick

Teams in LA for most of the week prepping for Coachella. You should take my new sound engineer on a date.

Daniel scoffs, turns the blender on and grimaces at the loud noise. He hasn't put any greens in, just sweet tangy berries and bananas with a splash of oat milk, refreshing. He pours the liquid into his glass, sticks a glass straw into it, and then texts one handed as he heads outside.

Who do you take me for? Dial-a-date

Send me a photo of him at least!

No. Martin replies.

Wednesday 9pm work for you?

You'll like him. You'll have fun. Promise. If not I'll comp all ur drinks at Coachella this weekend.

Daniel lays back on his lounger, brings the smoothie to his lips and takes a big gulp. It's been a long time since he-- Martin means well, knows what Daniel likes for the most part. It could be fun. Something different.

Okay. He responds

If it's a shit time though you're covering the bill as well. Daniel adds.

It won't be :) Martin texts back instantly.

-🍣😳🍷-

The waitress leads Daniel to the table he'd reserved, a quiet corner near the back, a wide table, space for plenty of food for them to share. It's one of his favourite Japanese restaurants, one he's been dying to come back to since he arrived back in LA. He'd asked Martin for the guys details, so that he could text him the address himself, but he'd refused to hand them over, told Daniel that Max would be there on time, and not to worry, reassured him again they'd have fun.

Daniel wipes his hands down the front of his colourful shirt, an unreleased one from his own Enchanté collection, a conversation piece he can fall back on if the guy is into fashion as well.

"Daniel?" He hears closely behind him, a thicker accent than Martin's, more European. Daniel turns in his chair, simultaneously standing up at the same time.

"That's me." He quips, holding his hand out to be shaken. It feels overly formal to do, considering they're on a date, but it's second nature to Daniel, at corporate events or in the paddock, to hold his hand out and deliver a firm handshake. Max takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

"I am sorry that Martin put you up to this. We have been friends for a while now, but now that I am working for him, he keeps on trying to set me up with his friends. I tell him I am too busy, organising all his crap and making sure it is all smooth, but he knows my schedule this week too well." Daniel's taken aback a little, by how standoffish Max is being. "Oh, I am Max by the way, did Martin tell you that at least?"

Max moves towards his chair as he's talking, pulling it out and sitting down, leaving Daniel there, standing, taking him in. Daniel fumbles, sits back down, gets his own leg caught on the table leg and tries to play it off cool.

"Yeah he did." Daniel replies, picking up his glass of red wine and taking a sip.

Daniel gets why Martin didn't send him a picture of Max. He's attractive. Muscular and shaped, long hair at the top of his head, all ruffled like he'd barely bothered trying to style it. He's got a loose white shirt on, top button undone where Daniel can see pale skin. A freckle atop his lip that Daniel can't seem to look away from. He's not conventionally attractive by any means, but Martin's done well. Martin knew.

"So, how did you end up working for Martin then?" It seems like common ground they can talk about for now, whilst they wait to order.

"Well, I have known him since we were very young, but he went off and started doing his music stuff, and I went to university and I started studying civil engineering but then moved into audio engineering. Whenever Martin was home, or I visited him, the music was fun, it seemed good fun. So I of course change my degree for him but he had someone very experienced on his team, so I worked for some smaller DJs who were not as good and I helped make them sound better. Anyway, Harry has now quit and Martin asked if I was interested still."

"Wow, so you changed your whole life plan for your best friend?"

"No, it was not really like that at all. I do not think I would have found the job I am now doing if it was not for Martin cause he introduced me to that whole world, but I am not just doing it because of him. I have two cats at home, I would not travel this much and be away from them all the time just for Martin, I enjoy the job."

Max emphasises two cats as if he's left a wife and two children at home, fending for themselves whilst he's off basking in the Ibiza sun or jetting off to another remote festival.

"You travel a lot as well Martin was saying?" Daniel smiles gently, finally being asked a proper question. Polite date etiquette.

"Well, I used to. First year of retirement for me. Was an F1 driver. Won a couple of championships, 'ya know. So yeah, not travelling as much now. Went home for a while, back here now for a bit, go see some friends, find out what life is really all about. Home is Australia by the way."

"Yes, I used to watch you. You were a very good driver actually." Daniel notes how Max says that as if he's an expert, as if he's been commentating on Sky Sports for 25 years and can spot a generational talent from miles off. He feels like he should be offended, but he finds it endearing, complimentary. He has this innate feeling that if Max thought he was a crap driver, he'd say.

"Well, thank you very much, I guess." Daniel says, taking another sip from his red wine.

The waitress comes back over towards them and asks for their order. Daniel takes over, ordering for them both. He's tried so much of it before, he knows what's good. Tuna sashimi, California Rolls, Chicken potstickers, Vegetable tempura, Salmon maki. All different types of things they can split and share between them. The waitress smiles softly at Daniel, closing her notepad and bending to get the menus from them.

"Can I please get a Gin & Tonic, and the Beef noodles please?" Max asks.

Daniel shifts in his seat a little, taken aback, but also slightly worried he's been rude. The waitress jots down Max's order and promises to bring his drink over soon.

"Sorry, thought we could share." Daniel remarks.

"I guessed you thought that, but I am not a very big fan of seafood. I guess Martin did not tell you that." Max's eyes glint as he smiles, and Daniel relaxes again.

"Did you know, the seaweed salad you ordered, most places that is in fact just shredded cabbage. It is much cheaper for them to make and of course most people never know the difference." Max tells Daniel.

"Well I hope it's proper seaweed if I'm paying $40!" Daniel says aghast, and Max laughs, clapping his hands together.

--🍜😄🍸--

They order plenty more drinks, and enjoy all the food before them, with Daniel having a few take-out boxes stacked in front of him to carry home, due to his presumptuous over-ordering.

Daniel adores how delighted Max gets, small jokes enticing the biggest laughs out of him, and how direct he's being. When Daniel says something wrong, he corrects him straight away. Daniel's also taken aback by how complementary Max is. He tells Daniel within 15 minutes of their date beginning that he likes his smile, and when Daniel moves on to the easy topic of his clothing line, Max praises the new designs Daniel shows him, and gently offers pointers as to what he thinks would work better.

When the waitress brings the bill over, Daniel almost feels saddened that it's over, unsure when he'll see Max again, maybe during the Coachella weekend, but he'll be busy, he knows Martin has a few warm up shows in Las Vegas and at Brooklyn Mirage before he plays on Sunday, so Max won't be at the festival the whole weekend. But he hasn't felt like this in a long time. Not since Scotty. And he doesn't want to let go just yet.

"I've got a cool vinyl collection back at my place if you're into that? Do you like cheesecake? We could get some on the way back." He tries.

"That would be very lovely." Max replies, a beaming smile lighting up his face that cause the skin around his eyes to crinkle.

"Great!" Daniel retorts.

--🍰😏🎶--

He wakes up to a dead arm in the morning, Max laying atop of it. Daniel pushes some of his hair out of his face, kissing his head gently, and then his lips, right over the freckle, before pulling his arm out slowly. He shakes it above him, trying to get some feeling back into it, before leaning over Max and grasping his phone.

A new text from Martin sits above the rest of his notifications.

Guess I'm not paying the bill then 😉 It reads.

#i gave myself 45 mins to write this hence why the last restaurant scene maybe feels a lil rushed idk sorry #but yeah #throws another lil fic out into the ether x #dr #mv #max/daniel #fic rec

[pearwaldorf]

@theroseandthebeast was like "I wanna see one of Daniel's daughters coming home and seeing this random twink putting shit into a blender." So here we are.

--

“Hey Dad?” Leah kicks the door open to the apartment. “I picked up your meds from the pharmacy. I don’t know why you won’t let me set up the mail order for you, it makes things so much easier for both of us.” She dumps her bags onto the table between the kitchen and the living room.

There’s a man standing in front of the counter. He’s young, younger than Leah by at least a decade, probably more. Good looking too, with dark hair and a thin, angular face. He’s putting kale and carrots into a Vitamix but isn’t turning it on yet. She has no fucking idea when Dad would have acquired a Vitamix, or a handsome twink… assistant? (She slams down immediately on that line of inquiry. That’s not something she’s prepared to think about.)

“If it is more convenient for you to not have to pick up your father’s prescriptions, Ms. Molloy, I am happy to have it arranged.” The man scoops powder out of a container and adds it to the blender.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? And why are you making a smoothie in my dad’s apartment?”

“My name is Rashid. And the smoothie is for your father when he wakes from his nap.”

Something about the name tickles in her memory. “Dubai Rashid? Butler for the weirdo Dad went to interview Rashid?”

He smirks, like he’s pleased she made the connection. “The one and the same.”

“Also when did Dad start drinking smoothies? Or consuming vegetables of any sort?” Somehow that’s more approachable than asking why this stranger is in her dad’s apartment, or taking care of him in a way she or Heather probably should be.

“Travel can shake up routines, Ms. Molloy. It can also leave a person open to… experimentation.”

“I see.” It’s not that she doesn’t, but this is a fucking lot. “Also, it’s Leah. If you’re going to be making smoothies for my dad, I think that puts us on a first name basis.”

The bedroom door opens, and Dad comes out. He does look better than the last time she saw him, but there’s something that’s always going to feel weird, gray and withdrawn as he is now. (He’s her dad. It’s not fucking right.)

“How was your nap, Daniel?” It sounds perfunctory, but Leah catches the way Rashid looks her father over, assessing his condition.

“You know,” he replies. He looks at her, something softening in his face. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Leah, to her surprise, goes up to hug him. “Hey Dad.” He smells like shitty drugstore shampoo and expensive cologne she can’t identify, and it’s comforting in a way she doesn’t understand.

“I guess you’ve met Rashid.” He keeps an arm around her, something he hasn’t done in years.

“We’ve talked.” She looks up at him and smirks. “Isn’t it a bit late for you to be having a crisis of sexuality?”

He looks at her with all the exasperation he can muster after a lifetime of dealing with her bullshit, but he’s smiling just a little. “Consider it payback for dealing with you in college.”

#iwtv amc #interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #armand iwtv #rashid iwtv #daniel molloy #apparently my bullshit this year is random female ocs #i wrote a thing

[lewishamil10n]

Lewis/Sebastian/Daniel/Valtteri (idk if this is a thing but I will make it a thing) + traps

first of all anon i am kissing u on the mouth just for that ship. idek what to call it but the entire concept is [chefs kiss]

—

Valtteri is just about to step on the last stair when Lewis, a few steps above, calls out, "Don't!"

"And why not?" asks Valtteri, foot hovering in midair.

"Daniel put oil on it," Lewis explains, reaching Valtteri, "because he wanted to get back at Seb for replacing the sugar with salt."

"And he did not think it would affect someone other than Seb?" Valtteri asks dryly as he carefully steps over the killer stair.

"Well, you know Daniel," Lewis says with a grin as he hops over it too. "Probably thought it'd be funny no matter who it was."

Valtteri shakes his head in bemusement as he heads for the kitchen, Lewis trailing after him. It's early in the morning, he's severely uncaffeinated, and even the sight of Lewis in only his boxers is not helping.

"Morning," Seb greets from the kitchen table, halfway through his breakfast. "Oh, I wouldn't do that," he adds when Valtteri reaches for the coffee machine.

Valtteri stares at him wordlessly.

"I may or may not have rigged it to, ah, do some things coffee machines are not meant to do," Sebastian confesses. "I already ordered a replacement, though!" he adds hastily at the look on Valtteri's face.

"There's the French press?" Lewis suggests, looking torn between sympathy and amusement.

Valtteri sighs as he reaches for it. "This house is a death trap," he mutters.

"Oh, hello!" Daniel says cheerfully as he enters, trailing mud from his shoes. "I fed the chickens." He looks between the three of them expectantly.

"No one fell down the stairs," Lewis informs him, plugging in the blender so he can make his smoothie.

"Would you like some coffee?" Sebastian asks Daniel innocently.

"Since you're asking... no," Daniel says. "This is a trap, I know it."

Valtteri mumbles something rude in Finnish, and then sits down across from Seb with his coffee.

"What's that, Val?" Lewis asks.

"Nothing," Valtteri says quickly.

Daniel heads for the fridge, and has just reached out for the handle when Valtteri says, sharp, "Don't!"

"What did you do?" demands Daniel.

"Open it and find out," Valtteri suggests.

Lewis, who has just opened the fridge without incident three minutes ago, hides his grin. Seb, who hasn't been paying attention, looks intrigued.

"I will not do that," Daniel announces. "I'm going to go get breakfast outside, I don't trust anybody in this house. Bye."

"Get me a bagel!" Lewis calls out after him, and then turns to Valtteri. "Why did you do that?"

"Because it will fuck with him," grins Valtteri. "Serves him right."

"He's not going to open the fridge for three days," Lewis notes.

"Ah, three days of peace," Valtteri counters. "Sounds lovely."

Seb snorts. "Underestimating him again, I see. This is why you're the one with itching powder in your—" His eyes go wide. "Shit, I wasn't supposed to tell you."

"Itching powder where?" demands Valtteri. "Sebastian, itching powder WHERE?"

Seb doesn't answer, opting instead to drink his juice.

"I'm getting a divorce and leaving," Valtteri declares. "And I'm taking Rosa!"

"Can I come?" Lewis asks.

Valtteri considers. "You may," he says in the end. "Bring Roscoe. Sebastian, I hereby divorce you. Let Daniel know too."

"Sad," comments Seb. "Do groceries on your way back, will you?"

"Fuck you," Valtteri mutters, even as the fondness in his chest threatens to take over.

seriously this isn't even close to five sentences but fuck it five sentence drabbles

#asks #anonymous #f1 rpf #my writing #ask game #ok genuinely idk what to call this ship #and i'm too undercaffeinated to think of a ship name. open to suggestions tho #seb/val/lewis/daniel

[leslutdepointedulac]

So maybe I'm just bias (I definitely am) but Anne put something in Louis, some sort of drug or whatever, when writing him, because that man has an effect on me in a way no other person (real or fictional) has ever had. Like, I am utterly feral for him in case you couldn't already tell. I would die for Louis, kill for him. I wanna put him in a blender and drink him like some kind of smoothie. I want to keep him in a little enclosure like a pet and study him. I want to wrap him up in all the sweaters and blankets he could possibly dream of and hug him. I want to sit and read with him while wallowing in self pity. I want to be his friend. Someone who just admires him from a distance. Of course I have other favourites who I also love dearly, but no-ones doing it quite like Louis de Pointe du Lac. He has just a slight advantage over the rest for me, and is dear to me in a way that nobody else can compete with in my eyes.

#i will preach my love for this man until the end of time #and there's nothing anyone can do about that #not even me #one day if we're lucky i'll sing my praise like a rabid animal for someone else #but today is not that day my dudes #vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles #tvc #interview with the vampire #iwtv #louis de pointe du lac #my vampire chronicles

[dirigibleplumbing]

I’d love to hear more about your eating “Cas has an eating disorder” Destiel fic if you have a snippet or wanna talk about it 🙂

Thank you!!! I’m excited about this one and am glad people are curious about it.

Like me, this post-Empty human Cas has trouble eating things that aren’t exactly what he wants to eat, and he prefers foods that are the same texture with every bite. Also like me, Cas has a partner (well, at first, a “friend”) whose love language is acts of service and food and is determined to make sure Cas gets enough to eat. 

Unlike me--a vegetarian raised on California cuisine--Cas got his palette from Dean Winchester, and Dean’s the one doing the cooking, so there’s a lot of meat, plus Midwestern US excess and weirdness.

Like I mentioned before, the fic is in the form of recipes, and the thing about recipes is they’re usually in the 1st person. I don’t mind 1st person in fic, but I absolutely get why it bothers a lot of people. (I sometimes write in 1st person and then change it to 3rd person in late drafts.) But I’m committed to the recipe conceit for this one, so it’s gonna stay 1st person.

Recipes so far include:

Bacon Cheeseburger

Cas's Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

Fried Bologna Sandwich

Blackberry Pie

Shakshuka

Noodles with Cottage Cheese

Persimmon Pudding

Biscuits and Gravy

Chicken Noodle Soup with Noodles Made From Scratch

Cinnamon Rolls and Chili

Grilled Sunflower Heads

Spring Zucchini Kugel

Brisket

Schnitzel

The style of the recipes changes a bit once Dean and Cas get together, move out of the bunker, and start cooking with plants they grew in their garden.

(Anyone who has suggestions for Midwestern and/or Jewish recipes Dean would make should feel free to shoot me an ask!)

And here’s what is currently the very first section/recipe, the Peanut Butter and Jelly Smoothie:

***

Sammy figured it out first, which pissed me off. Couldn’t say why, just seemed like something I should’ve caught. 

I mean, I knew Cas wasn’t eating enough. All sorts of reasons for that, I figured. 

I wouldn’t say so where anyone could hear me, but I thought that it could’ve been—it sounds so fucking stupid, but I thought maybe there was a tiny bit of grace left after all. That he didn’t need to eat. Idiotic, I know. I just hate seeing him have such a rough time, and wanted to pretend he wasn’t. 

Sometimes I think I might’ve sent him away the first time he was human even if Gadreel hadn’t told me to, just so I didn’t have to watch him hurt so much. 

This guy thinks I’m the most selfless person he’s ever met, and that’s how I treat him. 

Point is, Sam spent a whole morning making a dozen different smoothies and having Cas try ‘em until he found one he liked—like, really, really liked. I came in at the tail-end of it and there was green gunk spattered all over the place and it smelled like a lawnmower, but Cas was eating—well, drinking, but it counts as a meal apparently—and smiling for maybe the first time since he got back. 

So the next day when Cas was out with Jack, I had Sam show me what he’d done so I could make it for Cas, too. 

Peanut Butter and Jelly Smoothie

Ingredients: 

Milk, about 1 cup

A handful of fresh baby spinach (Sam made it with kale the first time, but even the baby stuff tastes like grass, if you ask me. I made it for Cas with spinach and it was a lot smoother, for one thing, and Cas said he liked it better. Maybe if you have one of those hipster high-speed blenders you can stick a whole head of kale in, stems and all, and have it come out without little leaf chunks in it, but I have a normal person blender and I say just use the baby spinach.)

2 tbsp rolled oats 

¼ frozen banana (You can freeze ‘em whole, peeled, just make sure they’re broken up before you put ‘em in the blender. That way it won’t make that awful knife-in-the-disposal sound it does when Sam was dropping ‘em in whole.)

½ cup frozen strawberries

Ice, as needed

2 tbsp smooth peanut butter

1 tsp maple syrup

Salt 

This isn’t much milk for a smoothie this size, but Cas likes his smoothies so thick you can barely get ‘em through a straw, so I only add enough liquid that it won’t break the goddamn blender.

Instructions:

Add the spinach to the blender and just enough milk to cover it. Blend it together, starting with low power and working your way up to the highest your blender can go. If you have a regular blender, this is the best way to make sure the greens get broken down small enough to really mix with everything else. 

Add the oats next. Really you can add ‘em whenever, but doing it early keeps it nice and thick and gives you a good idea of how much liquid you’ll need. Blend from low to high. 

Add the bananas and strawberries, along with the rest of the milk. A lotta recipes just tell you to add everything and blend it together. Pretty sure that’s what they call hubris—or maybe it’s having a five hundred dollar blender. Probably the two go hand-in-hand. Just sayin’, the order is important to getting it all smooth, which is the point. S’why it’s called a smoothie. 

Blend low to high. When it’s all combined add the peanut butter, syrup, and salt. Be careful with the salt. You shouldn’t be able to taste the salt, it’s just supposed to make everything else taste better, ‘cause, y’know, it’s salt. It’s a sweet smoothie, but you add salt to cookies, right? Same deal. Until you get used to it add just a little at a time, blend it, and taste it to make sure it’s right. 

If it’s not creamy or cold enough, add some ice. You could add more banana pieces, but Cas doesn’t like the banana to be the main taste. Add more milk if it’s getting too thick to blend. 

Sometimes Cas tells me not to make it with the greens. I just use a lot less than usual and the peanut butter covers it. S’why I got so good at making sure they blend in just right. Cas wasn’t eating a lot of meat, at first, so he really needed the iron ‘n’ all that stuff that’s in green things.

I’m pretty sure the people who say these things are a real meal are all either people who sit in offices all day and don’t burn any calories or people who get paid to tell other people to starve themselves, but Cas will drink this smoothie when he won’t eat anything else, and that goes a hell of a long way.

#yay an ask! #anonymous #destiel #my writing #my fic #recipes #spn #supernatural #jupernatural

[kiankiwi]

Our Quiet World: Mommy to the Rescue

Summary: Because of their food aversions caused by their Autism, both Ollie and Austin constantly deal with tummy issues. Today, they were unfortunately both dealing with stomach issues at the same time

CW: Constipation, pain

*

You could tell what was wrong by the look on Austin's face. See, with Ollie and Austin having so many food aversions, they often suffered from irregularity. "How long, bubs?" Austin whined with a look of discomfort on his face as he crossed his arms against his stomach and leaned against your bedroom wall.

"Um... a few days..." He mumbled.

You raised your eyebrow. "What's a few days Aus? Three? Four?"

Austin squirmed. "Um... m-more like five or six... Please don't be mad." You sighed.

"I'm not mad baby, but I know this makes you feel sick and I hate seeing you in pain... I hate that you do this to yourself..." Austin's eyes glistened with emotion. "You'll be okay baby, c'mon assume the position babes." You said as you stood up from your bed

Austin knew what that meant, he laid on his back on the bed and pulled his shirt up so you could feel his stomach.

You palpated his belly and Austin grimaced in pain as you pressed on it . "Yep, you need the medicine baby." Austin groaned "Argh, but it makes me feel sick!" You chuckled and helped him sit up. "Yeah, because you're chock full of waste and it needs to come out. The longer it stays in there, babe, the sicker you'll get. Now please just do this, for me? C'mon as soon as you take it, we can snuggle in bed while we hydrate you and wait for it to work okay?" Austin grimaced, he did want his tummy to stop hurting, and he knew every time he took his laxatives, he came out just fine... eventually.

Austin rolled his eyes at you. "Ugh fine. But will you stay with me when it gets ugly and gross?" You chuckled. "Yes babe. In sickness and in health right?" Austin whined and put his head on your shoulder as you gave him a loose hug.

"Alright, first what we're gonna do is get you a smoothie with some fiber, okay? You might not want to eat right now but you gotta eat something, okay?" Austin whined, already dreading the pain he'll be in. You chuckled. "You'll be just fine baby. You know the drill."

Just as Austin was halfway done with his smoothie and you were making breakfast, Ollie waddled into the room with a pout on his face. "Hi baby! Goodmornin' you sleep good?" Ollie whimpered. "Mommy, tummy!" Ollie whined and ran to wrap his arms around your legs. "Your tummy hurts baby? Here, can mommy feel your tummy?" You picked Ollie up and laid him on the couch and lifted his pajama top, palpating his tummy. "Am I hurting you love?" Ollie just grimaced and whined at you but shook his head. It didn't seem to be as painful as you had feared but it definitely felt as full and hard as Austin's.

"Oh no baby, not you too!" Ollie cried, fearful. "He need a smoothie too?" Austin asked from his spot at the table. "Yep, looks like it. you two are just twinsies huh?" You kissed Ollie's cheek and carried him to the table. "Here, you wanna sit next to daddy?" Ollie pillowed his hands on the table, his paci bobbing in his mouth. "Hey baby, your tummy feels full and icky too?" Austin asked softly, rubbing his toddler's back. "Yeah, daddy. Feel like rocks in my tummy." "Me too buddy, but mama will work her magic and both our tummies will feel better soon." You chuckled as you put the MetaMucil fiber suppliment in the blender along with a handful of fruits to mask the grittiness of the powder. "Here you go sweet boy, one fruit smoothie with magic in it to help your tummy!" Ollie smiled and gave you his paci cautiously taking a sip of the smoothie. "Drink it all baby, it'll help your tummy promise."

The smoothie got Ollie feeling back to normal but unfortunately Austin was still in pain. You were running back and forth between both your boys as they writhed in pain.

You left Austin resting on the bed with a full bottle of water while you went to tend to your crying toddler. "Momma! Owie!!! Owie!!" You put your hand on Ollie's belly which was angry. "You're okay baby, I know it's scary but if you gotta go potty, go, it'll only be worse if you fearfully hold it in bubs." Still sobbing, Ollie stood up on his big boy bed and held his arms up for you. "Mama, hold me!" You scooped him up and held him close as he hid in your shoulder and finally let the medicine work on his stomach. You shushed him as he cried out in pain. "Shh, I know baby, I know."

"Mommy! Potty!" Your little boy screamed, right into your ear. "I know baby, you wanna go to the potty?" Ollie gripped onto your shirt and shook his head anxiously. "No, no!" He seemed to just want to hold onto you, his safe space. "Alright bubby, that's why you got a pull up on. Just let it go buddy, you're alright, momma's right here." He screamed through the whole ordeal as all of it left his body.

Ten minutes later, it all seemed to stop and Ollie's diaper was so full it seemed to almost hang off his tiny body. "Good job Ollie, you did so bubba! You done for now?" Your son seemed exhausted as he caught his breath and his body finally felt empty. "Mama, change please?" You chuckled. "Yes baby, I'll change you. Are you done for now?" Ollie nodded. "Alright, we're gonna put you straight in the bath this time and then change you okay?"

After carefully disposing of the diaper and washing him up and setting him up with a movie, you now had a bit of time to check on your husband. "You okay baby?" You found Austin clenching all of his muscles as he sat in a ball on the bed groaning in pain. "No! It huuurts. I can't even m-m-move." Austin whined. You crawled onto the bed and run your hair through Austin's curls. "You wanna try, I can help you to the bathroom." Austin started to sob as you slowly and as gently as you could helped him sit up. "Here babe, I can tell you're trying to keep it from working. C'mon babe let's try okay?" It took some convincing but eventually you got Austin up and helped him to the bathroom.

You sat there while Austin tried to get anything to work. "Is Ollie okay?" Austin asked, his voice wobbly. "Yeah, he's fine baby, he's resting and watching a movie now. He's back to normal so we can just focus on you now okay?" "It's not working, nothing." "Don't give up baby, do you want me to give you a tummy rub hm?" "Austin nodded, starting to shake and sweat.

You sat in front of your husband and pressed your fingers into his distended bloated belly. "You're alright baby. It'll work soon."

Austin tried again with the help of your kneading fingers but again nothing. "Nope, nada."

As Austin laid back in bed, you grabbed your wallet. "Alright new plan, you need to get moving so we're gonna go to Starbucks and we're gonna get you a coffee with regular milk. No dairy pills. That should definitely work. And if not, we might have to take you to the ER, sound good?"

Austin groaned, rubbing his belly. "Well it doesn't sound good but I'm down for whatever works at this point."

"Good boy... Ollie, wanna go to Starbies buddy?" You yelled to your son. "YEAH!" Ollie yelled. The toddler currently had big crushes on ALL the current baristas at your local Starbucks. But his favorite one was a sweet goth girl named Alyssa that had vibrant purple hair. "Is Alyssa gonna be there?" Ollie asked you as he brought you his shoes for help. "I don't know bub, maybe. You gonna say hi to her?" Ollie blushed, playing with his hands cutely. "Maybe." You chuckled and quickly got him ready as Austin stood up. "Alright time for yummies!"

You got to the cafe and unfortunately Ollie's crush wasn't there but he did walk around waving to all his 'fwiends' while you ordered your and Austin's drink, making sure to get regular milk in his and not dairy free milk.

"Here you go bubs, by the way the bathroom code is 15252." You said as you handed Austin a medium iced mocha. "Thank you bubs." Austin groaned as he sat up and watched Ollie toddle around exploring to take his mind off the pain while he sipped his drink. "No, chug it come on." Austin grimaced. "No, it's gonna make me puuuuke!"

"You won't puke baby, you'll drink it, we'll go home and rest and I called your mom to come take Ollie in a couple hours so we can spend all night in the bathroom if need be and I'll just be focused on you, okay? You'll be okay babes but you need to drink it. You don't need to be scared okay? You've been through this before and you always turn out fine." Austin nodded and swigged from the cup.

Thirty minutes later, Austin ran to the bathroom. You smiled and let him be until you checked your phone and saw Hubby texted you.

That was absolutely horrendous. I'm all good but but I need to go home NOW

You smiled and texted back. Take your time, we'll be waiting in the car for you.

You collected Ollie and brought him to the car and waited for Austin, making sure you had an emesis bag on hand in case the dairy made him nauseous.

"You okay?" You asked as Austin gently got into the car, grabbing the bag as you started the car. "We need to go home before I shit all over the car." You felt so bad for your sick bub. "Daddy, bad word!" you heard Ollie chirp up from the back. "I know buddy, I'm sorry."

***

THERE WE GO! I've been working on this with @elvisnuts for like 2 weeks!!!! I'm sorry it's a bit gross but Austin is often a sick bub in the OQW AU!!

I hoped you enjoyed it but if you don't like this one, of course you can skip it and I'll have something else for ya soon...

I hope you guys are enjoying this AU, I love it so much, if you want to request anything for this au or any of my others, you know what to do, send your requests to my inbox, I'd be happy to write stuff for you guys.

I love this AU so much and I'd be happy to see what you guys want me to write for these characters

Also, I have so many adventures mapped out for this family I'm so excited

But of course it's easier for me to write in non-chronilogical order.

ANYWAY happy reading!

@mooodyblue

#our quiet world au #austin is sick again! who woulda thought! #but this time Ollie is sick too #they're SO anxious! #and need to be taken care of :( #oqw au #kiwiswriting

[strawberryjamsara]

shin and joe for the ask game

Shin

Sexuality headcanon: I’m torn between lilgayboy45 and bi but nobody wants him

Gender headcanon: Trans, what cis person dresses like that?

A ship I have with said character: This fandom sleeps on kurushin.

A brotp I have with said character: I love him and Sara. They’re insufferable.

A notp: Yes I keep saying I wanna count out illegal ships and I’m pretty sure Midori was an adult when he met Shin but if Soushins can be obnoxious and insist it’s totally fine you guys then I can say they suck and are wrong and should get run over with my tractor

A random headcanon: He stays up until 3 am watching YouTube video essays. Prove me wrong.

General opinion of said character: (sighs lovingly) what is wrong with him?

Joe

Sexuality headcanon: That is the most bisexual boy I’ve ever seen

Gender headcanon: I think he puts gender in a blender and drinks it as a smoothie

A ship I have with said character: Ryojoe is good for the soul

A brotp I have with said character: Joe and Sara!

A notp: Romantic Joe////sara is harmless but also a curse on this plain, I hate it.

A random headcanon: he has an ursheen plushie

General opinion of said character: I don’t talk about him enough. He’s a good character.

#your turn to die #kimi ga shine #yttd #shin tsukimi #ask #joe tazuna

[almightyhamslice]

rediscovered how to use ‘multiply’ on CSP & had a field day with it LOL. So here’s an old piece of art of Team Smithereen (my first post featuring them I think!) and a drawing of Kira I never posted on here, colored in! I totally didn’t know what I was doing for the first one, but I figured it out for Kira!

Lost media update under the cut, as usual! It’s pretty long.

-me, April 2022

So... I’ve managed to get in contact with Sean Johnson and Patrick Johnson, via their shared Swazzle instagram account!! I talked to Sean first, since he was using the account at the time. It turns out neither of them have the episodes, BUT! I got really lucky here because Patrick can remember the episodes quite well! At least, better than anyone else I’ve talked to! So, even though I still haven’t found the eps, I can give a clearer summary of some of them!

in Ring of Fire Stunt, Whoop is on a catapult aimed at a bright red and yellow target, with a hoop in front of it. The target is being secured by a very small dump truck, and the hoop is attached to Francis’ helmet, he’s the one keeping it in place. Stunt Pig launches Whoop through the ring, but Whoop catches fire before he hits the target. (I don’t understand why this one might have been pulled, it sounds... tame? Dan Clark just said Disney thought it was “too dangerous” when I asked him about it not too long ago, and I’m not sure I know what that means in the context of the rest of the show. 

I am still in the process of asking questions about Smoothie Stunt so I can better understand the order of events, but Patrick told me it ends with Brave Little Francis falling into the blender, being COMPLETELY BLENDED, (THEY BLENDED THE ACTUAL PUPPET) and. well. You can see my reaction up there. They drink him apparently!! And according to Patrick there coulda been different parts of him in each of the characters’ cups??? That’s horrifying! I asked Patrick how BLF was supposed to give a thumbs-up at the end of all that, and he said BLF’s thumb popped out of the top of blender. Like I said I really only have knowledge of 1/2 of this episode (from what I can tell anyways) and I’m still trying to find out what the first half was like. If I had to guess, it’s probably Thrill Kat’s blender & he tried to make a normal smoothie & handed cups of it to the others (insert Stunt Pig barf image here) and BLF liked it so much, he licked it straight from the blender and accidentally turned it on somehow?? I’m really not sure, this one is crazy tbh...

in Maui Owie, Whoop walks over a patch of hot coals while carrying 2 batons, which are also on fire. As Patrick explained to me, Whoop wears a grass skirt as he walks over the coals, and either the coals themselves or the batons he’s carrying ignite the skirt, and he just totally melts from there. As he put it, Whoop’s skin melts off revealing the skeleton underneath. I think this may be the third time I’ve heard someone doubt that this episode aired, so I think it’s safe to say it probably didn’t. Also not really here or there, but he also told me BLF does the hula at some point in the episode, lol. Probably BEFORE Whoop starts melting, if I had to guess. (Francis is terrified of skeletons!)

Stunt Lab 3 is, as I might’ve mentioned before, formulaic since it’s a Stunt Lab episode & they’re all very similar! Whoop is the ‘judge’ for this episode, so it likely starts with him “talking” to the audience (in gibberish) and then pointing to a bronze medal, a silver medal, and then a gold medal. Then it’d show a shot with all 3 other characters, with props under cloths with their emblems on it (this happens in both the other episodes, just with different characters in different places), which they pull upwards! From what I can tell, Stunt Pig’s prop is a basket of eggs, Thrill Kat’s prop is a can of soup (or maybe 2 if I read the storyboard correctly), and Francis’ prop is a pink birthday cake. Stunt Pig drops the eggs, but obviously the impact isn’t very spectacular & it’s just kind of gross and messy. Whoop gives him a thumbs-down. Thrill Kat is next, and he is hit on the head with the can of soup, which splashes everywhere. Whoop also gives this a thumbs-down. Finally, Francis drops the cake! I don’t think it totally crushes him or injures him badly, but he emerges from it covered in cake residue, which he licks off with his long tongue (according to Patrick Johnson)!! I’m pretty happy to find that out, since for the longest time I was unsure of how I knew BLF had a long tongue if I’d never seen Smoothie Stunt-- it being in Stunt Lab 3 explains it perfectly! Anyways I’m certain Francis won, but I’m not sure who was in second and third place. I will hazard a guess and say that Thrill Kat was in second place and Stunt Pig was in third, even though they’ve both already been in those placements before.

I’ll continue to ask questions moving forward. I haven’t contacted Mark Villalobos yet, but I plan to ask him about the show too. I actually have way more questions to ask Patrick Johnson, not only because he storyboarded for the show, but also because he worked on the pilot! I wonder if he drew any of the images in the show bible..?

#Team Smithereen #equipo peligro #Team Smithereen Reunion #art #traditional art #digital art #mixed media #sketch #colored sketch #digital color #Whoop #Brave Little Francis #Thrill Kat #Kira #team smithereen FCs #lost media #lost media update #lost media search #personal lost media

[green-orangeade]

If I Knew You Sooner

(Tomorrow x Together Soobin fanfic)

Hey all! 

This is my first ever post I am ✨nervous✨ so please like, comment, share etc if you enjoy this <3

This is just part one to see if people vibe with it and is something people would want to see continued. I do plan on this story having smut, but not in this part. Please please let me know what you think!

Details for this part: Soobin x fem reader, written in the second person (you), coffee shop au, university au

- - -

Part 1

Here he was again. Soobin. You only knew his name from writing it on his coffee cup every Monday afternoon for the past few weeks. He came in usually around 4, a quiet time between the lunch and home-time rushes. He picked a good time, you never had to rush his drink and could make casual conversation.

You look up from your cleaning when the bell rang at the door as he came in. Today was a warm day in May, he wore knee length denim shorts and a basic lilac tshirt. His mask was black, and his eyes peeped out from beneath his fringe. You smile under your own and he gives you a warm, shy smile in return. He’s always been a little shy.

“What can I get for you today?”

“Can I have the mango smoothie, please?”

“Sure, is that it for you?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

You turn and take out the ingredients from the fridge. Plugging in the blender, you turn back to him. He’s just eyeing the nearly empty cafe, and his eyes had been flicking back and forth to you since you turned around. Meeting his gaze, he looks down at the card reader and back up to you.

“Oh whoops, I’m sorry,” you chuckle apologetically. “I forgot to turn on the reader.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” he smiles back as he moves his phone over the reader with a beep. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, but then decides against it. You smile at him before turning back to his smoothie. The blender fills the silence.

Smoothie made, you put it down on the counter for him. He takes it gladly, and his eyes show a determination totally new to you. He speaks.

“So, are you living around here? I know the university is pretty close by, are you a student?” He rushes at first, tripping up a little on his words. The last part is slower, more measured, like he got a grip on himself halfway.

“Oh,” you begin, your voice high with interest and surprised that he asked a personal question unprompted. “Yeah I am actually! Do you also study there?”

“Yeah, I’m studying literature.” He perks up when he answers, clearly happy to talk about something other than the weather.

“That’s so cool! I’m doing Korean language and culture. I’m an international student.”

“Really? I thought you lived here, your Seoul accent is so natural.”

“Awh, thanks. It’s really not, but thank you so much,” you say with a shy chuckle. You think about your Korean now and remember your clunky, awkward Korean from when you first arrived, only learnt through the classroom. You look up at him and he starts to speak again.

“I like how you speak.” He says this cautiously - measured, genuine. He scratches the back of his neck and looks up again quickly before you can think too much about what he said. “So I guess we’re in the same department, right? Language and literature studies?” 

“Yeah we must be!”

“That’s really cool, I’m so glad to know someone in my department. I don’t really know anyone yet.” He smiled shyly as he scratched the back of his neck once again. He seemed to regret divulging his lack of friends, his eyes looking down at his drink.

“I know what you mean, sometimes it’s so hard to talk to people in class and stuff. Maybe that’s why they try group projects,” you chuckle slightly, inviting him to relax in your joke with you. He gives you a little chuckle in return, decompressing.

You think about giving him your contact details. You had been looking for a friend since you arrived and no one in your classes had really stuck out, and he seemed to be in the same boat. The worst thing that could happen is he says no, or you just don’t go much further than chats at work. To hell with it, you may as well try.

“Hey, do you mind me putting my Instagram into your phone? We could always walk to class together as we’re in the same building? Or just study together? Don’t worry if not but I just thought it could be a good idea.” You add that last part at the end in a rush, not wanting him to retreat back into his shell or never come again.

Instead, his eyes light up and he smiles. “Oh, oh sure you can!” He stutters ever so slightly, eagerly pulling out his phone and handing it to you. “I’d really like that. Just message me whenever you have a class or something.”

“I will!” You beam up at his incredibly tall self briefly as you type in your username. You hand it back to him with your Instagram profile open. “I’ll message you my phone number, but I tend to reply more often on here.”

“Cool! Thanks so much!” He smiles big underneath his mask, his eyes crinkling sweetly.

Smiling back, you try to think of something to say. The bell jingles on the door and a woman walks in.

“Well, I guess I better go,” he says.

“Yeah,” you reply, not really knowing where your sentence went. Don’t make it awkward, come on. Quick. Before this woman makes up her mind and interrupts again. “I’ll message you my schedule, okay?”

“Sure, I’d like that. I will too. Thanks.” He smiles again and inclines his head and the smoothie at you as he turns to leave. You smile at him again and turn to the woman.

Soobin looks back at you as he opens the door. Your eyes dart up at him again. Crinkling.

The door closes with a ring.

Maybe it won’t be so lonely now.

- - -

#txt fanfic #txt post #txt #tomorrow x together #soobin #beomgyu #yeonjun #hueningkai #txt taehyun #txt soobin #txt smut #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt x moa #coffeshop #student au #coffee shop au

[leossmoonn]

chemistry part tweleve

part eleven | part thirteen | masterlist

zuko x fem!reader

avatar: the last airbender

includes - you, zuko, suki, katara, toph, sokka, and aang

special appearences by - iron, azula, and appa (mini sky bison,,, he’s like the size of a shihi tzu)

warnings - language, little suggestive lol

you poured the chips onto the plate, putting all of the dips in the middle. you set it on the island table with the rest of snacks you and the girls had picked up for the christmas party. you were excited, but nervous for this year’s party. ever since you girls went to college, which was three years ago - well, toph just started this year - , you had made it a friend tradition to have holiday parties. you had friend-giving, friend-mas, friend year’s and galentine’s day. 

you and the girls always had aang and sokka there. you usually were the one with no date. toph had a few guys come over sometime, but they never really stuck. since this was your first time having a boy over, one that was really hot, really smart, and seemed really into you, you were beyond nervous. you were terrified. sure, you had hung out with him before, but not when you were gonna drink a few glasses of champagne. so, you decided to just be light on the drinks tonight. otherwise, you would probably end up laying on zuko’s lap, either making out with him or telling embarrassing childhood stories. 

“this looks great, guys! ooh, salsa,” sokka said, his mouth watering.

“yeah, i can’t wait to eat the nachos,” toph said.

both of their hands went to pick up a chip, but you slapped their hands away. 

“no one eats until zuko, katara, and aang are here,” you said. 

sokka frowned, “you suck. suki, tell y/n i can have one chip.”

suki chuckled, “no, y/n’s right.”

“can you let me have a chip? i’m your best friend! and i’m blind,” toph begged with a sweet smile.

suki rolled her eyes, “nice try.”

“i haven’t eaten since this morning!” toph exclaimed.

“get another snack then. these are for our guests,” you said.

toph scoffed, “yeah you mean for your boyfriend zuko.”

sokka smirked, “yeah, you wanna make sure everything is perfect for him.”

“no, i don’t! it’s just polite to wait,” you glared at them. 

sokka smirked, “suuuuure, y/n. keep telling yourself that.”

you frowned, “i literally hate you.”

“love you, too! where are katara and aang, anyways?” sokka asked. 

“they’re picking up some gingerbread house kits for us to make,” toph said.

“yeah, and that takes 45 minutes? i’m sure that’s what they’re doing,” sokka rolled his eyes. 

“i’ll text katara and see if they’re coming back soon,” you said. 

“good. text zuko and ask when he’s coming. make sure to tell him if he doesn't come in the next 15 minutes, i will start eating the counter,” sokka said. 

you rolled your eyes. “what a baby.”

you went into the living room, pulling out your phone. you texted katara, hoping for a quick response. you then texted zuko, suddenly getting anxious again. 

you set your phone down next to you. suki, toph, and sokka came over to sit down.  

“so, when are they coming?” sokka asked. 

“uh, zuko said 10 minutes and katara hasn’t responded yet,” you answered. 

“ugh! next time, one of you go with katara for shopping,” sokka said.

“yeah, cause we are faster than them,” suki chuckled. 

the front door opened and there revealed katara and aang. they had grocery bags in each hands. 

“hey, guys!” katara smiled. 

“god, finally! what took you guys so long?” sokka asked.

“we couldn’t find the special sprinkles you like, sokka,” aang said. 

“oh,” sokka said. 

“and we had to get appa,” aang said. appa flew out from behind aang, landing on your lap. 

you squealed, “hi, appa!” you ruffled his hair softly, earning a lick on the nose from him.

“appa, come here boy!” sokka smiled at him. appa just looked at sokka, turning back to you. 

“appa, come here!” toph said, patting her lap. appa walked across your lap to toph, licking her cheek.

“haha! that sucks,” you laughed at sokka’s frown.  

“sokka, you can redeem yourself by helping me with these groceries,” katara said. 

sokka sighed and got up from the couch, taking a few bags out of their hands and going over to the kitchen. as they set up the treats, you looked at the door, your leg bouncing up and down as you waited for a knock from zuko. 

“you okay, y/n? i can feel your leg bouncing,” toph said.

“yeah, what’s wrong?” suki asked. 

you kept your eyes on the door. “i’m fine,” you shrugged.

suki put her hand on your knee, stopping it. “take a deep breath, okay? zuko was so happy to receive an invitation. and isn’t he gonna wear a matching ugly sweater with you for the ugly sweater contest? it’ll be perfect.”

you sighed. “yeah, but what if i spill guac on him. or worse, i trip and fall over on him.” you shivered as you thought of the cringe that would come from those moments. 

“if you fall, i will make sure to take a picture,” katara said as she walked into the living room. 

you rolled your eyes. “really supportive, kat.”

katara smiled and sat down next to you. “you’ll be fine. like suki said, zuko wants to be here and plus, he really likes you. go and drink some water, take a deep breath, and go be the badass, hot girl i know.”

“yeah, and if he hurts you tonight, i’ll make sure to crush his bones,” toph smiled maliciously, cracking her knuckles.

you smiled at your best friends. “thanks guys, you guys are the best.”

“we know,” toph smiled.

you laughed at her comment, but fell silent once you heard a knock on the door.

oh, god. that’s him. that’s him that’s him

“are you gonna get that, or do i have to?” sokka asked, walking towards the door.

you jumped up off the couch, pushing sokka away. “i got it.”

“alright,” sokka said.

you took a deep breath, combing your fingers through your hair, and pulled your sweater down. you put your hand on the door, slowly opening it.

zuko appeared in front of you, a big grin appearing on your face.

“hey, zuko!” you said excitedly.

“hi, y/n,” he smiled at you.

“come in,” you said, stepping out of his way.

“thanks,” zuko said and stepped in. he took his shoes off and coat, revealing his matching christmas sweater.

you gasped, your eyes lighting up. “you actually wore it!”

“well yeah, it’d be lame not to,” zuko chuckled.

“true. we so have the best sweaters on,” you smiled. 

appa flew over to zuko, licking zuko’s cheek while still in the air. 

“hey, buddy,” zuko smiled. “i would pet you, but i have my hands full,” he said, gesturing to the gift bags he had.

“oh, let me take those for you,” you said. zuko handed the presents to you, you walking over to the christmas tree.

“thank you,” zuko said, walking over with appa cuddling in his arms. 

“no problem,” you smiled. 

“hey, man!” sokka exclaimed as he walked into the room. 

“hey, sokka!” zuko smiled, giving sokka a hug. 

“hey, zuko. long time, no see,” aang smiled. 

“yeah, sorry, holiday times at the JD get busy,” zuko chuckled. “we can hang over break.”

“awesome! gram-gram bought katara and i a vr headset, we can all play on it when you come over!” sokka said. 

“oh, cool! azula’s friend, ty lee, has one, too. i played on it a little,” zuko said. 

“is it fun?” you asked.

“very. maybe you can come over to my place sometime and i’ll have ty lee bring it over,” zuko smiled. 

“yeah, i’d like that,” you grinned. 

you and zuko smiled at each other for what seemed like forever before toph coughed. 

“i can feel the sexual tension between you two, please stop. can we eat now?” she asked. 

you and zuko looked away from each other, pink tainted both of your cheeks. 

“yeah, we can eat now,” you said. 

“alright! let’s get this party on!” sokka exclaimed, running to the kitchen. 

you chuckled, walking over to the kitchen. 

“zuko, you want champagne or beer?” you asked. 

“beer is fine, thank you,” zuko smiled. 

you got out a bottle from the cooler, handing it to him. “you’re welcome. so, what’d you get everyone?”

“well, i got sokka a new wallet. i bought aang a new messenger bag, he mentioned he needed one since his old one is practically falling apart.” “yeah, he's had that thing since high school,” you chuckled. 

“exactly. anyways, so i got suki a $50 gift card to sephora, katara a hoodie that says ‘riding the waves’. i got appa a little ball you can put hay in so he can exercise and eat. i got toph some airpods, and your present is a surprise,” zuko smiled.

“wow, you are an awesome gift giver. and i am very excited about my gift. i can’t wait to open the ones every gave me, not to be greedy or anything. i heard sokka got me my own personal smoothie maker,” you smiled. 

“don’t you already have a nutri bullet?” zuko asked, pointing to the machine that was on the counter.

“yes, but apparently this one can make milkshakes, too. definitely gonna sell the nutri bullet on craigslist,” you smiled. 

“wow, sounds cool. i wish i had one of those,” zuko said. 

you scoffed, “you literally live above a tea shop, you don’t need a blender.”

“hm, true. it’s great being me,” zuko joked. “i bet it is,” you giggled. 

“guys! wanna do the ginger bread house making contest now?” katara asked. 

“yeah!” you nodded, going over to the kitchen table. you and zuko sat down across from each other, grabbing one of the kits.

“alright, we have an hour do to this. the judges are toph and appa. toph will judge taste, appa will judge construction and decor,” suki smiled. 

“what? you trust a sky bison?” sokka asked. 

appa grunted, slapping sokka with his tail. you laughed, “you deserved that.”

sokka rolled his eyes. “yeah, whatever.”

suki sat down next to sokka, pecking his cheek. you looked at zuko, wishing you could do that to him. zuko gave you a small smile, wishing the same thing. 

toph held up the timer. “alright, ready… set.. go!”

you tore the box open, setting out the walls, roof, and decorations. you worked quickly, opening all your materials. you started to glue the walls to the bottom with icing. you looked up for a second to see zuko doing the same thing. 

“ready to go down?” he asked, noticing your stare. 

“nah, i’m ready to win,” you smiled. 

zuko mirrored your grin, going back to focusing on his house. 

you quickly built the rest of the walls, everything surprisingly staying up.

“aw, damn it!” katara exclaimed. you looked over to see two of her walls falling down. 

“it’s okay, baby, you can do it,” aang said. 

katara groaned in frustration, “i held them together for 5 minutes! how are you and y/n’s walls staying on?”

“it’s called having ‘the magic touch’,” you snickered. 

katara frowned, “shut up.”

“hey, mine is falling, too,” zuko said. you looked over to his, seeing one of the walls tipping over.

“well, not mine! i’m awesome!” sokka exclaimed. “and suki is, too!” 

you looked over to suki, who already had her roof on. 

“up top, babe!” sokka said, holding his hand up. suki high-fived him, “yep. we are legendary.” “nope,” you said, glueing on your roof. 

“face it, y/n, you’re gonna lose. suki and i are gonna win,” sokka said.

“hey! no teaming!” katara exclaimed. 

“oh, you’re teaming with aang. you can’t talk,” you remarked. 

“you can team with zuko,” aang suggested. 

you looked at zuko, seeing him already looking at you. he shrugged at you, “you want to?”

“yes,” you smiled. 

“how do you all team if you all have your own houses?” toph asked. 

“well, we can add our points up,” suki said. 

“ah, okay. well, grading will be extra hard, then,” toph smiled. 

“fair,” aang said. 

“no, not fair!” sokka exclaimed.  “yes, fair,” you said. “therefore, you will lose, and zuko and i will win.”

“nope, aang and i will win,” katara stated matter-of-factly. 

“you sure, kat?” sokka smirked, looking at her gumdrops who were falling off of the front of the house. 

katra glared, “you don’t even have any decorations on yet!”

sokka scowled, “yeah, well, suki does! and she’ll help us win all the points.”

“sokka! get to work,” suki ordered. 

“yes, ma’am,” sokka said and started decorating his roof. 

you turned to your own house again, resuming decorating the front of the house. 

“yours looks really good,” zuko said. 

you looked up and smiled. “thank you. yours do, too. i like the flowers on the side.”

“thanks. garden are very important for a nice house,” he said. 

you chuckled, “i agree.”

“15 more minutes left!” toph exclaimed. 

“what? how do you know that?” sokka asked. 

“i set a 45 minute timer so i would know, genius,” toph rolled her eyes. 

“right, right,” sokka said, turning to back to his house. 

“ten more!” toph said. 

“damn,” you muttered. 

“what?” zuko asked. 

“i haven’t finished my snowman,” you frowned and turned your house over so he could see the snow man you made out of marshmallows. 

“i think he looks perfect,” zuko smiled. 

you giggled, “thank you. i think we’re gonna win this.”

“me, too,” zuko smiled. 

“3…2…1, stop!” toph shouted. you put your hands in your lap, waiting for the judging to begin. 

“alright, first up is aang and katara. aka kataang. aang, give me a piece of your room, a wall, and a piece with candy. katara, do the same. appa, go ahead and judge,” toph instructed. 

appa flew around the houses, looking at every inch, nook, and cranny.

“he can’t even talk! this isn’t fair!” sokka exclaimed. 

“do not disrespect the sky bison,” you glared at him. 

sokka scoffed, “he knows it’s true.”

appa grunted at sokka before going back to look at katara’s house. 

“hm, a good amount of sweetness. nice use of the gummy worms. very good, aang,” toph said. 

“thank you,” aang smiled widely. 

toph then judged katara, going to appa to talk over the points. 

“alright. we give you guys a 8.5 out of 10,” toph said. 

“alright, that’s good!” katara high-fived aang. 

“good job, babe,” aang smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

“next up are suki and sokka,” toph said. 

suki and sokka gave toph pieces of their houses, appa flying around to observe. after 10 minutes after judging, toph gave them the score. 

“8 out of 10,” toph said. 

“what! that’s like a low b!” sokka eclaimed. 

“hey, it's higher than a c,” suki said, putting a hand over his. 

sokka pouted, “fine. let’s see how team (you and zuko’s ship name) did.”

you cut pieces of your gingerbread and handed it to toph. zuko did the same. you bit your lip in anticipation. you knew it was a silly game, but the winner - or winners in this case - got a free dinner to the middle ring or a 2 free drinks at the JD. you wanted the JD coupon so bad. you loved the tea, but also, it gave you an excuse to see zuko randomly. 

“hm, alright. i give you two 9 out of 10. you guys are the winners!” toph smiled. 

you jumped up in excitement, going over to zuko and pulling him in a tight hug. zuko wrapped his arms around you, giving you the feeling of warmth and safety. 

you pulled away, a bright smile on your face. 

“which do you choose. free dinner at the middle ring, or two free drinks at the JD. one of you can get each since there’s enough for both of you,” toph said, holding out the coupons. 

“i want the coupon to JD!” you said, but looked to zuko quickly. “unless you do.”

“you can take it,” zuko smiled. 

“yay!” you squealed and plucked the ticket out of toph’s hand. 

“alright, ugly sweater contest! the prize is money,” sokka grinned. 

“alright, appa will be the judge again!” suki exclaimed, walking over and putting a $20 bill in appa’s mouth. 

“okay, since zuko and y/n are wearing the same sweater, they can each have $10,” katara said. 

“alright, fair,” you nodded. 

“stand in a line,” aang instructed. you went in-between zuko and toph. you all watched in excitement, waiting for appa to hand one of you the bill. 

after five minutes, appa went to toph. 

“alright! you all suck!” toph pumped her fist up in the air. 

“you have to be kidding me,” sokka said, face palming. 

you chuckled, turning to zuko. “maybe next year.”

“yep. i don’t know why we didn’t win. all these sparkles and diamonds give me a headache,” zuko said, looking at his sweatshirt. 

“same. you can change if you want,” you said. 

“nah, i’m good. i wanna be matching,” zuko smiled. 

you chuckled, “yay! i was hoping you said that.”

zuko’s smile widened at your excitement. you felt giddy inside and found yourself staring at his lips. you felt a sudden urge to lean up and kiss him, and go back into your room and make out. zuko must’ve noticed your stare, cause he licked his lips seductively. your face warmed up and you looked away quickly, coughing awkwardly and going to pour yourself another glass of champagne. 

zuko smiled at your retreating figure, looking to your other friends. 

“so, what's next on the agenda?” he asked. 

“present opening!” aang exclaimed, running over to the tree.

you walked over to the living room, sitting down on the bean bag. zuko sat across from you. 

“alright, i wanna go first!” aang exclaimed. 

“alright. here’s mine,” katara said, picking up a big present and handing it to him. 

aang opened it and pulled out new sneakers. “oh, this is awesome! thank you, babe. i love you.”

katara smiled. “you’re welcome. i got them custom-made so they’re your favourite colors and on the logo, it has appa and my name on it.”

“my two favourite things in the world. i love it,” aang smiled, leaning over to give katara a kiss. 

suki then handed her his gift. he then opened one from sokka, toph, and zuko, then you. you ended up getting him a new gaming  headset that has boosted sound system.

“thanks, guys. you are all awesome!” aang grinned. 

“you're welcome, buddy,” sokka smiled. “my turn!”

“alright, here’s mine,” suki said, handing him a banana-shaped present. 

sokka ripped it open, holding it up in all its glory, it was a dark blue boomerang that had a small heart on one end with suki’s name in it. 

“this. is. AMAZING! oh, i love you! we are so doing it tonight!” sokka exclaimed, kissing suki. 

you all groaned, telling sokka to shut up.

sokka opened everyone else’s present. you had got him a skateboard.

“thank you, guys. especially suki,” sokka smiled at his girlfriend.  “you’re welcome, baby,” suki smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“my turn!” katara exclaimed. 

she opened her present from aang first, which was new makeup brushes, which  apparently katara need a lot. suki got katara a humidifier, toph got her a new smoothie/coffee cup, sokka got her a $50 gift card to jc penny, zuko gave katara the sweatshirt, and you got her a polaroid camera. 

“i love all these! thank you,” katara smiled at each of you.

“you're welcome,” you all spoke. 

suki went next. sokka had gifted her a 365 day jar, katara gave her a new makeup pallet, toph gifted suki a new curling iron, aang gave her a new fluffy pillow, zuko gave her the gift card, and you had bought suki a new silk robe.

“oh, these are sick! definitely gonna have fun with these,” suki held up the jar and the robe. 

“you’re welcome,” katara smiled. “alright, toph, it’s your turn.”

“alright, tell me what is it after i open it,” toph said. katara handed her a gift from her. 

katara had given toph a new pair of hiking shoes, suki had given her new guitar picks and a new guitar strap, sokka had given her a new gaming chair, which obviously wasn't there, but he said he it would be delivered to the apartment tomorrow. aang gave her a 5 candle set, zuko had given her airpods, and you had given her a turtle duck stuffed animal where she could warm up in case of cramps or stress. 

“these are awesome. thanks guys,” toph smiled. 

“you’re welcome! alright, zuko’s turn!” suki exclaimed, handing him a gift.

“thanks,” zuko smiled. 

suki had gifted him a sweatshirt with his favorite basketball team, katara had bought him a new phone case, aang gave him a new gaming headset, sokka had given him a new watch, and toph gave him new sneakers.

you nervously gave him your gift, which was pretty huge. zuko smiled while opening it, his eyes lighting up once he saw it. 

“woah, this is awesome!” he exclaimed. 

you had gotten him a new skateboard that had his name written on flames. 

“i know you mentioned you hadn’t had a skateboard since you were in high school and you wanted to get back into it,” you said bashfully. 

“thank you, i love it,” zuko smiled. 

“you’re welcome,” you smiled. “alright, well, my turn!”

“open mine first!” katara exclaimed, handing you her gift. 

you took it from her, opening it gently. she had gotten you a google home. 

“oh, katara, do you know how much i adore you?” you said.

“i know, don’t worry,” katara giggled. 

you had opened the next gift, which as from suki. she had gifted you crocs that said ‘super swag’ on each one. 

“oh, you are feeding my narcism,” you chuckled. 

“you deserve it,” suki smiled. 

you then opened aang’s gift. he had gotten you a new hoodie from your favorite show. “this is like $70! thank you!”

“you’re welcome,” aang smiled. 

you opened your gift from toph, which was a poster with all of the girls and you. 

“how did you get this one made?” you asked, staring at it in astonishment. 

“i know people,” toph grinned. 

you chuckled, “thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” toph said. 

sokka handed you his gift, which was the blender 

“yes!” you squealed.

“i knew you would like it. no need to tell me, i already know i’m the best gift giver,” sokka smirked. 

“hm, i can’t say that until i open zuko’s gift,” you said. 

zuko had handed you his gift. “thank you,” you said. 

“you’re welcome,” zuko said. 

“i’m goanna go and order pizza,” katara said. 

“yeah, me too!” sokka exclaimed, getting up. 

you furrowed your brows. “what?”

“yeah, i need to make sure katara orders the right pizza,” toph said. 

“i need to pee,” aang said. “i have to take appa out,” suki said.

they all got up and left the room, leaving you speechless. 

“what just happened?” you asked, turning to zuko. 

zuko was blushing hard, which made you even more confused. 

“i don’t know. go ahead and open your gift,” he said. 

“alright,” you said. you opened the gift, which was a small, black box. you took the top off, your eyes widening and your mouth agape. zuko had gotten you a silver charm bracelet. the charms were an otter-penguin, the first initial of your name, your zodiac sign with your zodiac gemstone, and a small circle.

“this is so beautiful, thank you,” you smiled. 

“you're welcome. read the text on the small circle,” he said. 

you looked at it, reading the words out loud. “will you… go on… a date… with me?”

you paused for a moment, lowering the bracelet and looking at zuko. 

“so, what’s your answer?” zuko asked, nervously playing with his fingers. 

“yes,” you nodded and smiled. 

zuko’s worried expression went away immediately, and was replaced with glowing, big grin. “really?”

“yes!” laughed, leaning over and giving him a hug.

“YES!” you heard everyone shout from kitchen. they all came back into the room. 

“you guys are gonna make an awesome couple!” sokka exclaimed. 

you pulled away, blushing. “shut up.”

“alright, wanna watch ‘home alone’, now?” suki asked. 

“yeah,” you nodded.

“zuko and y/n, you can sit on the love seat,” sokka smiled, wiggling his eye brows. 

you rolled your eyes, “so immature.”

“i don’t mind,” zuko smiled and shrugged. 

you smiled up at him, walking over to the couch with him. you sat down right next to him, putting your head on his shoulder with no hesitation. zuko wrapped his arm around you and rested his hand on your thigh. your heart pounded against your chest, and warmth shot down from your stomach to between your thighs. 

“do you mind my hand being here?” zuko asked. 

you took a deep, shaky breath. “nope.”

zuko moved his hand, “you sure?”

you grabbed his hand and shook your head. “i’m sure.”

zuko smirked a little, putting his hand back. you sighed contently and leaned into him more, enjoying the warmth he provided.

aang turned on the movie and you all watched it in silence. during the movie, you had moved over to zuko’s lap. you were stretching and ended up on him. you were going to move, but zuko grabbed your waist gently, setting you back down. the gesture had you grinning from ear-to-ear, snuggling into him. 

the movie ended, which signalled the end of the party. everyone but zuko was staying, which made you sad, but you knew you weren’t ready for him to stay the night with you in your room. not just yet. 

so, you just walked him up to the front door.

“thank you for the skateboard,” zuko smiled. 

“you’re welcome. thank you for the charm bracelet. when is the date, again?” you asked. 

“ah, right, sorry,” zuko chuckled. “are you free tomorrow?” 

“i am,” you smiled, clasping your hands in excitement.

“great! i’ll take you out then. make sure to dress warmly,” he said. 

“will do. see you tomorrow, zu,” you smiled.

“see you,” he smiled and went on his way. 

you closed the door, looking down at your charm bracelet dreamily. you were falling hard for this boy. 

note - hope you guys read and enjoy this as new parts are added! if you wanna be on the taglist, message me and/or reply to this post :))

taglist - @sorrythatspussynal @theblueslytherin @charlenasaxen@akiris @the-paintedlady @thatarthistorynerd @freckled-and-daydreaming @fi-chanwrites​

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko x reader #zuko smau #zuko x reader smau #atla smau #smau #fire lord zuko x reader #atla zuko x reader #atla sokka #atla aang #atla suki #atla katara #atla toph #atla appa

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

GOT7 “They realise they’re in love with you”

 GOT7 Masterlist                                                Group Masterlist 

Jaebum: 

“It got turned down again.”  Jaebum said, entering your place with no hi’s or hello’s. “That man is impossible to please.” He added, dropping his bag on the table and looking at you with his hands on his hips. You smiled at him sympathetically, it was ridiculous at this point the standards his boss was using against him. You could feel his frustration. 

“Come here.” You said with your arms extended and waiting for him to dive into you. Jaebum smiled before wrapping his arms around you and joing you on the couch. “It sucks that he turned it down again, but I just know you’re going to work even harder and make something absolutely amazing.” You pet his hair, comforting him in the best way you could. “You’re right.” He looked at you with smile as you continued to pat his head. Jabeum just watched you as you encouraged him, stroking his hair and face while mumbling sweet words.

He loved that no matter how down, or angry he was, one look at your face and he knew everything would be okay. 

Mark: 

Meeting his family was a task, it took to being in a certain level of a relationship to get that far with him. Well, you were there and it seemed he was more nervous than you were. But the nerves went away seeing how calm you were, talking to his mom and making his dad laugh. 

It was a rare thing to see his whole family on one page about a person, but they were. They were on one page about you. “Y/N’s really great.” His mom smiled, patting his back as he helped with dishes. You were enjoying coffee and a conversation with his dad and Mark could hear your laughter. “I know, I knew bringing Y/N here was the right decision.” He said and put the last plate away. With a sigh and a smile, he looked at him mom and she pat his back.

Hearing your laughter, seeing the way you and his family got along made him realise just how special you are. 

Jinyoung: 

“You have two really good options. I don’t know how I can help you pick.” You said, moving your hands over his shoulders and down his chest. Jinyoung sighed at the feeling, grabbing your hands and pulling you against his back tighter. “This drama is like something I’ve done before and love and this one is a whole new type of character.” He explained and gestured towards the 2 scripts in front of him. 

A few hours later you were sat in front of him, reading lines off of the script dramatically. “But.... I love you.” You read dramatically and he had to choke back a laugh. “Jinyoung! Don’t laugh! You asked for my help.” You laughed and he smiled. “Yeah I did, and I think I made my choice with the drama’s. I’m chosing the other one, if I have to act this scene with anyone else than you I won’t be able to stop laughing.” He chuckled, pulling the script out of your hands. “Well, nice to see I was helpfull.” You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. 

Jinyoung loved that you could make him laugh in any situation, even with tough decisions. 

Jackson: 

You watched as seemingly random things were thrown into the blender with a disapproving stare. “I thought you don’t have schedule until later today?” You asked, knowing Jackson fixed this smoothie as a quick meal. “Yeah, that’s right. Why?” He asked, looking at you with big eyes. “That means, you have time for a real breakfast.” You said and moved to remove the food items from the blender. “But this is quick and easy.” He explained and you shook your head, cutting him off. 

“It might be quick and easy, but it’s important that you take the time that you can spare to properly take care of yourself. Sometimes that means eating breakfast and not drinking it. Now sit down, I’ll make breakfast.” You poked his chest and turned to pull out some pans. Jackson stood frozen, in surprise and not really knowing what to do because he knew you were right. 

He loved how you made sure he took care of himself, physically and mentally. That means a lot to him. 

Youngjae: 

Nice weather, not to hot, not to cold, but just right and absolutely perfect for taking a long walk with Coco. You ended up sitting in the park, the small dog in your lap with Youngjae’s arm around you. It was absolutely perfect, it was one of those small cherishable moments made even better with Youngjae’s laugh.

“I see an ice cream vendor... I’m gonna get us some.” You said, standing up and handing him Coco. With that you disappeared, only to reappear shortly after with 2 cones completely filled. “Eyyy, what flavor did you get?” Youngjae called as you approached. “The strawberry looked really nice and I-” You paused, watching the ice cream fall out of the cone. He started laughing as you handed him his ice cream and walked back to the vendor for a new one with a head hung in shame. 

He loved having calm days with you and he loved that you could smile so easily, your happy energy was just unmatched to him. 

Bambam: 

He wasn’t anticipating you being over at his place when he got home, he also wasn’t expecting the smell of a super familiar meal either. “Baby, what are you doing here?” He asked, seeing you in his kitchen. “Just felt like surprising you.” You said and stirred the pot filled with soup. 

“It smells like Tom Yam Kung in here.” Bambam remarked, moving to stand by as you stirred. “Wow, you’re right on the money.” You commented and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You’ve been missing home lately so I called your mom and she walked me through making it. I hope it tastes right.” You remarked, lifting the spoon for him to try. He looked at you with wide eyes before going to taste it and he hummed. “I wasn’t expecting coming home to this, but I’m so glad.” 

It meant the absolute world to him that you took the time to do sweet things like this, to make him feel better. 

Yugyeom: 

Maybe it was the way you were goofily dancing, maybe it was the way his hoodie swallowed you up or maybe it was the way you were still up with him in the practice room at 3 a.m. He laughed as you watched yourself in the mirror, agressively swinging the sleeves of his hoodie around. 

Yugyeom walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you to stop you movements and he put his chin on top of your head. “Aren’t you tired yet?” He laughed and you joined in. “I am so tired, you have no idea. But you’re still practicing so I’m keeping myself preoccupied so I don’t fall asleep.” You explained, being still for the first time in a few minutes and allowing a yawn to slip through. “I’m here to support your practice! I can’t do that while I’m asleep.” You added, looking at him through the mirror. 

Yugyeom loved that you were so supportive of his passion, that you were willing to sacrifice your sleep schedule for his even if he wished you didn’t. It meant a lot to him. 

A/N: My GOT7 mood was triggered by their comeback news and I haven’t been here in a long time. I love it here. 

#got7 #got7 reaction #got7 scenario #jaebum #jaebum reaction #jaebum scenario #mark tuan #mark tuan reaction #mark tuan scenario #jinyoung #jinyoung reaction #jinyoung scenario #jackson #jackson wang #jackson wang scenario #jackson wang reaction #youngjae #youngjae scenario #youngjae reaction #bambam #bambam reaction #bambam scenario #yugyeom #yugyeom scenario #yugyeom reaction

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space orcs, “Revelation.”

Hey guys, I had a bunch of trouble writing last night for some reason, but I managed to get something out, so I hope you like it :) 

“So what do you think, am I more of a Han Solo type or a Captain Kirk type because you know if I am being honest it really depends. I think I would like to think of myself as a Han Solo type, you know dashing and sarcastic, the hero you want to have come in to save the day, but Captain Kirk I can also see. You see I make dumb decisions sometimes and get everyone into trouble. Oh oh oh!! wait ! How about Captain Malcom Renylds. I feel like he is just enough of an idiot and just enough of a badass to work, what do you think detective?”

The Detective groaned loudly and took a long slow breath, “Admiral, listen to m-”

“You know I was also thinking about other parallels. You know how about that old animated movie Titan EA. I think I kind of look like Cale, and Sunny acts just a bit like Stith, you know, the angry chick with big legs. I liked captain Korso of course, just for simple aesthetic reasons, than he had to go and be a bad guy, but damn that redemption arc was surprising and well timed, at least I think, others may disagree.”

“ADMIRAL VIR I-”

“You know I have seen every space related science fiction movie and TV show that ever existed, and I am totally cool to keep talking. I mean I have to pass the time somehow until my lawyer gets here. You see my mother always said I liked to talk. I talked early, in fact, my brothers don’t like the fact that I talk so much, they say I talk TOO much, can you believe that.”

With an angry yawl like a Cat who just got their tail stepped on, the detective rose to his feet, hands to his head, “That is IT, that is IT. We will continue this interrogation LATER.” He turned on his heels and stormed out of the room muttering to himself the entire way, “I need a break.”

Adam Vir watched him go with an expression of pure innocence on his face as the door closed, only to morph into an expression of devilish amusement not dissimilar to that of the grinch in his original animated form. He leaned back in his chair resting his hands behind his head. The Detective had seen fit to undue his cuffs as it might make him more cooperative. The irony being that he would totally love to cooperate if someone was willing to cooperate with him, and actually believe his story.

He cleared his throat wishing he had accepted the drink of water offered to him earlier. He had been talking for about five hours now, straight. Apparently a filibuster isn’t just something you can use in politics. It is apparently a very effective way of driving young and inexperienced detectives insane.

He smugly leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Interrogation techniques were designed to work on the guilty, or, if done wrong, on the slow, but he was neither of those things. Granted he was kind of an idiot, but he was more of an idiot in the way of his idols like captain Kirk and Malclom reynolds and less of an idiot like every disney villain’s cronies. He was smart just…. Selectively.

He cracked an eye as the door opened opposite.

At first he expected to see the detective ready to go another round already, but instead a group of Drev guards walked in. He smiled his best winning smile at them and rose from his seat, “Back to the cells boys.”

The Drev didn’t say anything.

He tried a different tactic, “Zhad chal dana tsa najastich.” May the sun watch over you: A traditional, and respectful, Drev greeting 

The two creatures pulled up in their tracks.

“Tsa Dzhal cheeych” You speak Drev

“Yid.” Yes 

His little greeting had the desired effect, and soon he had the two Drev warriors conversing like two Rundi at a political debate. They laughed together as they walked down the halls of the precinct.

Still in Drev, the three of them continued to converse, Adam talking animatedly, “So then I told him that I can’t hit kids right,  and he was all like. Then you can fight me.”

“What happened.”

“Got my ass beat. You don’t just challenge a sentinel to open combat as a rookie, and you know, at only six feet tall.”

The Drev chirped with laughter, coming around the corner to nearly run face first into the Detective who was open mouthed and staring, holding a fresh mug of coffee before him. The Drev’s laughter died down seconds to late, and the man narrowed his eyes, glowering at them.

“What are you doing?”

Adam turned to look at the other drev, “Tin Najastich.” watch this.

HE turned to look back at the Detective, “Ne’e j’ya eeneenat nehtehich.” He can’t understand us.  He didn’t do much, but he could tell by the face the detective made, he had done it right. 

It was a little trick he had learned from Sunny, a Drev dialect that tended to cause breaks in the middle of words as if adding a apostrophe, while simultaneously pronouncing all the ts and ks as clicks, the ts as a forward mouth clicks and the ks glottal clicks at the back of the throat. Either way, it was like putting on a thick southern accent to confuse an alien translator, and it seemed, it simultaneously worked for Drev.

The Drev began to laugh and babble at each other in the dialect as the detective sat there in frustrated anger, “What are they saying!” He demanded.

Adam frowned allowing his face to go straight as he deadpanned, “I wouldn’t know. I am xenopobic and would never dane to learn an alien language, you know, like Drev, or Vrul, or.” he leaned towards the Dredv, “I am currently working on learning tesraki.”

The Drev continued to laugh as they pulled him back towards his cell.:

Adam grinned and waved at the Tesraki guard as he walked past, “You know I have it on good authority that stock prices are about to go way up for holywood inc. They are working on becoming intergalactic. I would suggest getting on that bandwagon”

The Tesraki looked surprised, but grinned and waved at him as he was moved into the other room.

Behind him, the Detective was practically blowing steam out of his ears as the door slammed shut.

***

The human glanced over at Krill for the fifteenth time eyes wide in an expression of barely concealed terror.

Krill would have rolled his eyes if his eyes could roll.

Catching the look, Sunny frowned and leaned in, “You did threaten to eat him.”

Krill scoffed, “I don’t even have TEETH sunny, how was I supposed to eat him!” He turned to glance over at the man who was still giving him a bit of a side eye. He frowned, “Well, I suppose blending him up and turning him into a meat smoothie could work.”

It became pretty evident in the next few seconds that they hadn’t been speaking quietly enough, at least when it came to the comment about a meat smoothie.

Krill waved him off with a hand, “Oh just ignore us, now when is this meeting supposed to take place.”

“Ten minutes, maybe.”

Sunny tilted her head back, looking overhead at the darkened sky and approaching rain. 

It was just beginning to drizzle when the man nodded and pointed forward into the darkness, “There.”

Sunny squinted hard, just barely able to make out a shadowy shape slipping through the darkness.

Sunny nudged him forward, “Well, go on. If you do this for us, I won’t let captain cannibal hurt you.”

WIth that urging, it didn’t take long for the man to vanish off into the dark, boots slapping on the wet concrete.

Krill turned to look at her in annoyance, “Its only considered cannibalism if you eat your own species.”

“Whatever,” She muttered, moving into a low crouch and slipping into the shadows off to the side. She managed to parallel the movement of their man for a few streets by ducking behind dumpsters and concealing herself within dark alcoves. At one time in her life she might have considered such actions to be heretical against her beliefs, but her opinions on such things had changed as of recently, and she continued to inch forward through the darkness.

Besides, this was about saving Adam.

Didn’t matter what she had to do, she was going to do it.

The human was close now stopping a few feet away from the shadow. The way the rain fell, it almost concealed the two figures as they spoke. Any bystander just passing by might not have noticed them, but Sunny was not just any bystander.

As the two figures disengaged, she had eyes only for one.

The human, likely scared out of his skin went sprinting off into the darkness likely thinking about krill and his meat blender, but his escape didn’t matter to Sunny. She could find him later if she had to, they had his name after all. What they didn’t have was knowledge about this strange hooded figure in black. The one who had paid the humans to incriminate adam, and themselves by proxy. 

Sunny didn’t know much about stealth as a general rule, but She, still, somehow managed to make it up the street without being seen, tailing the small dark figure. That was her first clue, whoever it was was either a very short human, or not human at all. Now that didn’t really narrow things down as there were several species who could fit into that category, burg iotins even some rundi, or a finnari to name a few. Not that she would ever assume a finnari of doing something like this.

She watched as the figure slipping into one of the large buildings, door shutting quietly behind it. She might have worried about losing the tail if she hadn’t already considered that, and lowjacked the package.

She crouched in the darkness her hands resting on the ground before her, eyes narrowed,

A soft rustling behind her, and she turned nearly jumping out of her skin as a figure scuttled from the darkness, its movements disjointed and aggressive.

“SHHH!” Krill hissed

She snorted fuming, “What the fuck, krill you scared the shit out of me.”

“What, why.”

“Oh I dont know, maybe it has been your recent pension for violence, or the fact that you keep talking about eating people, or your uncanny ability to sneak up behind me.”

“You know, I find all of this to be very insulting. You can stab people in the face, and adam can threaten to punch people in the trachea, but the moment I do something that is even slightly off color, it bothers everyone, and then people get all uppity.”

Sunny sighed, pulling her hood up over her head to block out the deluge, “Generally Adam and I don’t threaten to eat people, Krill. That is the difference.”

“Well no one ever told me there were rules.” He said, gripping onto sunny’s cloak as they inched forward into the darkness, following the signal towards the dark building. They didn’t take the same entrance as the cloaked figure, instead going for a more discreet entrance, finding themselves in a maintenance tunnel lined with pipes and power boxes.

The only illumination they got was afforded to them by the glowing dimness of red lights above and the occasional emergency strip. Somewhere, a distant roar alerted them to the presence of some sort of generator. 

They moved up the hall in near silence as the rumbling continued, and Sunny was forced to stop a few times, listening to the distant echoes of footsteps up the hallway though none of them ever came close enough to cause a real problem.

KRill followed at her back.

Soon enough, they had made it out of the maintenance corridors, following a set of slim metal steps upward and into a nice, tiled hallway. The make was very modern for Tesraki, emulating human style which was rather popular in the galaxy these days, and signified wealth despite the fact that humans were hardly the wealthiest of species.

Fake plants, or maybe real ones --sunny didn’t know-- lined the hallways as little fountains of water trickled through artificial streams on the floor.

The aesthetic was rather pleasing, giving an almost outdoor field inside a city that hadn’t seen green in over a thousand years.

They were almost to the end of the hall when sunny went very still freezing in her tracks fast enough to cause krill to plow into her open back.

“What are you doing.” krill hissed glancing over her shoulder, pausing when a pointed finger motioned him to the target.

“No. That can’t be right.

“I am afraid it is.” ***

Adam woke that night not knowing why.

It was almost as if he had hard a strange noise somewhere in the darkness, but when he sat up, the only thing he could see was the glowing blue/purple wall of the containment field.

He tried rolling over and going back to sleep, but something just felt wrong.

Eventually he forced himself to sit up and look around. In the galaxy, human intuition was nothing more than mere myth, but, despite what others said, he believed in it, and wasn’t about to ignore it’s prodding as it moved him up towards the edge of the containment field to peer into the darkness.

His eyes were almost immediately drawn to one of the other cells -- the one where his attackers had been staying--. Squinting past the glowing surface and into the darkness, he thought he could sense movement.

It was at that moment, that the containment field went down, and he was left blinking into the darkness backing away into his little field of light. When nothing happened, he inched forward and out into the darkness.

Had the containment field malfunctioned?

He took another step into the darkness before turning on the infrared on his mechanical eye and flipping up his eyepatch.

He immediately froze in palace gasping in shock.

“NO!”

[myluciferiscody]

i loved you first. p.1

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,205

warnings: au! in present time, language, but okay can you imagine (not dead) Xavier THRIVING in 2020

not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by joan’s song*

part 1 | part 2 |  part 3 | part 4 | epilogue

1.

When you met Xavier Plympton, your relationship had been strictly platonic. You expected it to remain that way, despite the fact he was funny, empathetic, good looking, and at times, a little dumb, endearingly so.

So when you started to fall for him, you continually brushed it off.

Oh, it's just a phase, you'd think to yourself as Xavier sheepishly wiped down the kitchen after using the Ninja blender and not securing the lid tightly enough. Or the time he and his friend, Chet, spent hours in your cramped living room arguing because they couldn't figure out how to set up the Roku Xavier bought instead of paying for cable. You watched in amusement, sipping your smoothie, wrapped in your blanket until they finally figured it out.

The little things Xavier would do for you also did not help. He'd make your coffee in the morning, or make dinner on nights you'd run late or grab food on the way home, ready to pig out and watch Netflix. The little things you never thought would make you fall for someone, did. 

When your first anniversary of living together passed, Xavier bought a box of Capri-Suns and put some balloons in the living room when you arrived home from work. Your feet were aching, and you were ready to take a hot shower and curl up in bed. Xavier's infectious smile made you forget all of the seemingly endless bad things that had happened to you that day. 

Still, you continued to hide your true feelings. Xavier never indicated he felt the same for you, and you were afraid of getting in too deep just to become disappointed. 

It was like watching a Hallmark movie enfold in front of you when your best friends, Montana and Brooke soon realized you had feelings for him. 

"You should tell him, y/n," Brooke said, her eyes bright, she was quite the romantic. 

"Yeah, it's unfortunate watching you pine over him," Montana said, shrugging at you when you glared at her. "What? All I'm saying is that it's sad, and you deserve to be happy," she said. Brooke nodded in agreement. 

"And if he doesn't like me back? I might lose him for good," you said, pushing that wicked thought away as fast as it came. "I don't want to lose him."

Brooke and Montana shared a look before changing the subject. You still caught the glimpses they threw you throughout the evening.

That was last weekend, and now that Friday was slowly approaching, you anxiously watched as the clock ticked to the time your shift ended. Xavier wanted everybody to go out and have a good time tonight, and he claimed he was bringing along a "special guest." You immediately assumed it was Brooke's boyfriend, Ray, who was away for work and was supposed to be home a day early to surprise her. 

You were... kind of correct.

Ray was there, but so was another woman.

Who Xavier introduced as his girlfriend. 

The initial shock at his words quickly manifested on your face. It was more horrifying when not only Brooke and Montana looked at you, but Chet and Ray as well. You hid your face with your hair as Xavier proudly introduced his friends to the redhead who was clinging to his waist. 

"-and my roommate, y/n," he gestured to you with a grin.

You slowly waved at her, ignoring the sinking feeling in your belly as she slowly sized you up and down before smiling and waving back. For a quick second, you felt judged. Until you realized you had also checked her out for the simple fact of wondering what she had that you didn't. 

"Guys, this is Chloe," Xavier grinned down at her, before pressing a kiss to her head. 

"How long have you two been together?" Ray asked, throwing his arm around Brooke, who slid her eyes from yours. 

"About a month, huh babe?" Chloe smiled. 

Your mouth dropped open, looking at the couple in front of you as if they grew two heads. You lived with him, and Xavier never told you about her?  

How could you not know?

You continued to remain silent as everybody congratulated Xavier on his newfound romance. A part of you was angry; Xavier was one of your closest friends, you told him everything, and he did the same. For the most part.  

Had she been to your apartment? When you weren't home? When you were asleep? 

You were also angry that you seemed to miss all the signs. Plus, your heart had just been shattered into a million pieces, and the night had barely begun. 

Xavier followed the boys to the bar, promising to pay for the first round. Chloe stayed behind, sitting down in the booth with a sigh. Montana took your hand, giving you a reassuring smile as your eyes blinked back tears. 

"Aww, are you two dating?" Chloe asked, her eyes trained on your hands. You could hear her excitement. "I've always wanted lesbian friends!"

Montana smirked, squeezing you tighter. You gave her an alarmed look, but like always, Montana came through. "Only for this one, babe," she said. "Plus, we kind of only just met you, so."

You released Montana's hand, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom while Chloe started taking selfies for her Snapchat. Brooke went to find the boys as you walked to the nearest safe haven, keeping your head down. 

You didn't realize that Montana had followed you until you went to lock the door. She gave you a sad smile as she let it click shut, before locking it. For a bathroom at a bar, it was nicely cleaned and smelt like peppermint. 

"I didn't know if you wanted to be alone..." she whispered. 

"N-No, it's fine," you said, ripping out some paper towels to dry your eyes with. "I appreciate the company."

"If I had known, I would have told you about her, Xavier kept her from me too." 

"I just feel so stupid," you sniffled, turning on the water to wipe your eyes with. "To think Xavier would remain single forever until I grew a pair to tell him." 

"It's not your fault!" Montana interjected. 

You nodded to appease her, but deep down, you were still thinking of the redhead in the other room who was dating the person you loved most.

The night went with you sitting in the booth, watching all your friends dance and grind on each other. 

Brooke had an early shift the next day and eventually joined you, swearing off alcohol for the rest of the night. She wrapped her arm around your shoulder, causing you to tear up a little. 

Chloe seemed friendly, and you hated that. You wanted to find an excuse to hate everything about her, but it was almost impossible. She had tried talking to you about Xavier, but he pulled her up and away, and you had to stare at the table, so you didn't see them practically fucking through their clothes. 

It was the worst when your closest friends didn't seem to notice something was up. Or they pretended not too. The boys were clueless, and you probably needed to be thankful for that. Chet wasn't always the best with dealing with "girl problems," and Ray was currently drunk off his ass. Xavier just danced with Chloe and occasionally came back to the table to suck down his drink. 

One AM slowly came around, and you gathered your things, checking your phone to see it was close to dying. 

"I think I'm gonna go home." you leaned over as Brooke looked up from her own. She smiled at you, pulling you into a hug, which you gratefully returned.

 "Text me when you get there!" she said, saying a final goodbye as you slipped out of the booth. You shrugged on your light jacket, dodging the dancing bodies, and made your way to the entrance when an all too familiar hand gripped your arm. 

"Hey! Where are you going, y/n?" Xavier asked, pressing your hand to his chest like he always has. He didn't seem to be drunk yet. "The night's still young, babe!"

You frowned at him, loving his touch, but you pulled your hand from him. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going home!" you called out over the music, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I haven't seen you all night!" he said, a pout on his face. You wanted to throw Chloe into his face, but you knew better. He deserved to hang out with who he wanted. To date, who he wanted.

"Oh, yeah, you've been busy," you said. "I gotta go, Xav," you pulled yourself from his grasp completely before slipping the hood over your head as you walked outside to your car. 

When you got home, you texted your girls like you promised and slipped into the shower. You blared your favorite songs, crying when you needed to and fuming when you didn't. 

You're so naive, thinking Xavier Plympton could love you.

Don't be so harsh, you then scolded yourself. But at the same time, those words hung heavily over your heart until you crawled into bed, falling fast asleep. 

2.

The next few days were somewhat average. You went to work, came home, spent time with Montana or Brooke when Xavier wasn't back at his usual time. 

You hadn't seen or heard anything from Chloe since the night you met her. 

Almost a week after the bar, you were surprised to find Xavier lounged on the couch, wrapped up in blankets. His cheeks were rosy, and he looked tired. Oh no.

Xavier Plympton had a fever every few months, it seemed. You had always been his designated caretaker since you met him. A part of you hoped that some things could still be the same, even with him having a girlfriend.

He smiled at the sight of you until you heard rustling in the kitchen. You set your bag down in your usual spot, "Xavier, is it another fe-,"

"Xavier! Baby, your tea is ready," Chloe chirped as she came in from the kitchen. She didn't glance at you as she walked to Xavier, holding your designated mug in her hands. 

"What kind?" Xavier piped up, sitting up just a bit. You continued winding down, using your ears instead of your eyes.

"Black."

You fought the urge to snicker aloud. Xavier's favorite tea was peppermint, especially when he was sick. You could almost imagine the disgust on his face.

"Oh, thanks, babe," he said lamely. Xavier sat up, gently blowing on the steaming mug in his hands. Chloe sat in the only available chair, watching him with rapt interest. You headed to your room, stripping from your work clothes, not realizing you were rushing just to run back out there. 

You're not going to spy on them!

YES, I AM! You snickered to yourself, slipping on your pajamas before brushing out the tangled knots in your hair. 

Xavier had laid back down when you came out, watching reruns of Judge Judy while Chloe typed on her phone. Her brows were furrowed as she concentrated, and even then, she looked gorgeous. You chewed on your lip as you crawled on the floor towards Xavier, who smiled at you when you sat in front of him.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Hey, you," you pressed a hand to his forehead, instantly feeling the heat radiating from his skin. "When did this start?" 

Xavier shrugged, "I woke up this morning and felt like shit, I've been here all day," 

"Are you monitoring your temperature?" you asked.

"Yes."

"Are you staying, hydrated?"

"Yes."

"Did you wash your sheets?"

Xavier gave you a guilty yet charming smile. "No, I have not."

You laughed a bit, removing your hand from his forehead. "I'll do it for you," you glanced at the teacup on the coffee table, seeing it was barely touched. Chloe didn't seem to be paying you much mind, so you asked him if he'd like more tea. He nodded, almost aggressively as you stood up, promising to make his favorite. 

The rest of the night went like this: Chloe hounded Xavier about a few outfit choices she was debating for an important meeting at her job. You made Xavier some soup, opting to reheat your leftovers from the night before. Xavier drank two cups of peppermint tea, then dozed off, leaving an awkward silence between you and Chloe. She seemed attached to her phone, but you didn't mind. 

You watched television, still sitting in the same spot on the floor as Xavier softly snored in your ear. It wasn't until you were dozing off yourself that Chloe left, pressing a kiss to Xavier's hot forehead before leaving. 

You had changed and washed his bedsheets, but you knew it was pointless trying to move him into bed. When Xavier was sick, he slept like he was dead. You turned off the television and gathered his dirty dishes to place them in the sink. 

No matter what became of you and Xavier, or Xavier and Chloe, you knew some things would just never change. One of them is you would always care for Xavier, no matter what. 

*if you want to be added to the taglist, you know the drill.*

#xavier plympton x reader #cody fern #ahs 1984 #michael langdon x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader #ahs imagine

[searchingforstarss]

you held your pride like you should have held me

by @searchingforstarss for @irondad-is-cannon-bitch, written for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange - i took your argument prompt, added in a little whump and here we are! i hope you enjoy this <3

rating: teen 

relationships: peter parker & tony stark, peter parker & tony stark & james rhodes

characters: peter parker, tony stark, james rhodes, bruce banner

summary: “I had to take the risk!” Peter snaps. “I saved your life.”

Tony’s stare hardens. “Yeah, and nearly ended your goddamn own. This isn’t a trade-off. It wasn’t your call to make.”

You would have done the same thing to protect me,” Peter points out. Tony just seethes at the statement.

“I don’t care about what you think I would have done. You are not me. And I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself."

or, as the timer ticked down, Peter knew his only option was to take things into his own hands. He just didn’t expect Tony to be mad at him for saving his life.

read on ao3

“What’s our game plan for tonight?”

“Our what?”

“Our game plan.”

“Kid, I don’t think I’ve ever had a game plan in my life,” Tony says as he tips blueberries into the blender. “I kind of just… do.”

He looks up towards where Peter is perched on the benchtop, letting himself be distracted for a moment. Almost the entire punnet of blueberries ends up in the blender and he curses, reaching in to scoop a handful back out.

“I was talking to FRIDAY earlier-”

“Oh, were you now?”

Peter nods his head, completely ignoring Tony’s snark. He’s learned to let it all roll off his back by now. “Yeah, she was telling me all about the guys we’re going after and well, I was thinking that since I’ve seen Chitauri tech up close and all - not that you haven’t, with the whole New York thing-” Peter cuts his ramblings off, stopping short when he realises that was probably the wrong thing to bring up. Tony’s leaning up against the bench, watching him carefully. His face remains carefully schooled, but Peter’s quick enough to catch the slight wince that flashes across his face for a second. The two of them don’t really talk about New York. That day was distressing enough for Peter, being separated from May and Ben in the midst of the panic, let alone for Tony who flew a literal nuke through a hole in space. “I, uh, anyway,” Peter resumes awkwardly, “what I mean is since I’ve seen what they do with the weapons, surely that means I should go in first and scope out the-”

Tony turns around. “No.”

Before Peter can open his mouth to speak again, Tony switches the blender on, the room filling with noise.

Okay. Rude.

“What do you mean, no?” Peter asks as soon as Tony turns the blender off again. Tony turns to him, a tired expression settled into the lines on his face like he’s been expecting this argument.

“When I said you could come along, I meant to get a feel for what’s going on. Get a little bit of field experience under your belt. But from a distance. I don’t want you in the middle of anything.”

Peter tries to school his features into a neutral expression and not let them fall into the petulant frown he can feel coming on. “How is it field experience if I’m stuck outside the whole time?”

Tony’s been hesitant about letting Peter come along on these types of things, so when he finally agreed to let Peter tag along with him and Rhodey to bust an illegal Chitauri weapons ring, this wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. He can be useful, he knows he can - especially since he’s seen these weapons up close, he knows what they can do.

“You gotta learn teamwork, kid. We always need someone out there watching our six.”

Tony turns to get a couple of glasses out of the cabinet above him. Peter slips off the counter and steps closer to him. “But I can do more than that! I'm practically an Avenger!”

“An honorary one at most, maybe. More like the team mascot.”

Peter frowns. “You did offer me a place on the team, you know, just in case you forgot.”

Tony tenses almost imperceptibly. “Yes, we are forgetting. That was irresponsible of me and I’ve since retracted said offer. My terms are that once you finish high school, then we’ll talk Avengers. You know this, Pete.”

Peter sighs. He knows that Tony worries. The older man is still meticulous about making sure he picks up Peter’s every phone call and insisting that he pops into the tower to check-in after each patrol (okay, maybe that one only came about after Peter tried to hide a broken arm for a couple of days but he really did have it all handled), even though it’s almost been a year since Toomes.

They’re closer now. Peter always thought the closer they got the more trust Tony would have in him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not qualified to save the world until high school has provided me with the necessary skills, like reciting the entirety of Shakespeare’s discography and knowing how to list everything in my backpack in Spanish, got it,” Peter grumbles.

“Did you just refer to Shakespeare’s plays as his discography?” Tony looks incredulous, his eyes widening almost comically, but Peter just groans again, tipping his head back in frustration.

“Of course that’s all you got from that. I was trying to show you that high school is pointless in the grand scheme of things, Mister Stark. I could be useful! You know I could.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Pete. You finish school, get the piece of paper and let me take at least a dozen photos of you wearing one of those stupid-looking graduation caps. That’s my price for putting in a good word for you with the Avengers.”

“You basically are the Avengers.”

“I’m sure the others would be very offended to hear you say that.”

Peter shrugs, unbothered. Tony takes a moment to turn around and divide the smoothie up between the two glasses before speaking again. “Look, I’m going to be totally honest with you right now, okay Pete? This is something that Rhodey and I are doing for SHIELD, and-”

“You can’t not let me come,” Peter interjects. It’s taken him months of wheedling to convince Tony that he’s finally ready for the big stuff. Peter twists a few fingers into the fabric of his hoodie, suddenly nervous that Tony might change his mind completely.

Tony sighs. “I’m not going back on my word. I just don’t want you involved with SHIELD before you have to be. Which means for a little while, you’ve just gotta lay low and watch and learn. I need you to trust me on this one.”

Peter knows that it’s time to drop it as soon as he sees the pleading look on Tony’s face - pleading with Peter to just listen to him. He gives Tony a small smile. Tonight, he’ll just have to try and show Tony that he can be useful. That he can listen to directions. That he’s worth keeping around.

“Plus, if I let you get hurt May will probably kick my ass all the way from, where is she with her college buddies this weekend? Ohio?”

“Oregon, Mister Stark,” Peter corrects.

“Exactly. That’s what I meant. Now drink up,” Tony says, pressing a smoothie into Peter’s hands. All the purple from the blueberries has been lost in amongst the green from the spinach and kale that Tony undoubtedly shoved in there when Peter wasn’t looking. It’s disappointingly healthy-looking. “Oh, don’t look at it like that,” Tony chastises good-naturedly. “You need your energy for tonight.”

“I’m not even doing anything but sitting there.”

“You’re gonna keep an eye out. That’s an important job, kiddo. Real high stakes.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Just count your blessings it’s not a school night, otherwise your ass would be doing nothing apart from sitting at home.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the lamest person on the planet?”

---

“And you’re both totally sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

Tony shoots Peter a sharp glance. Peter thinks he hears Rhodey stifling a laugh.

“We’re sure,” Tony says firmly.

Night has fallen to give them a cover of darkness as they stand in front of the warehouse. In Peter’s opinion, he’s not sure it looks particularly like a dangerous criminal hideout. This whole place looks like nothing more than a regular old warehouse district, the type that you would never look twice at when driving by on the highway.

“We shouldn’t be any longer than half an hour, kid,” Tony promises. He eyes the run-down looking side door they’re standing in front of. “All we have to do is get the weapons out of here, and I don’t think we have a whole lot of security to contend with.”

As if proving his point, he takes aim at the rusty lock and chain over the door and blasts it with his repulsor. The whole thing unravels and falls to the ground with a dull clunk.

“I was right. As usual.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes, but his military instincts keep his eyes trained firmly on the door, watching in case something - or rather, someone - that they’re not expecting comes to greet them. Tony, on the other hand, is much more relaxed.

He turns to face Peter, “You know what to do?” he asks.

“Yep. Watch the perimeter. Tell you straight away if I see anything sketchy,” Peter answers, repeating what Tony drilled into him on the way here.

“And?” Tony prompts. Peter groans.

“Stay out of trouble.”

“That’s right,” Tony nods, satisfied. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Be careful,” Peter says after them, “and good luck!”

Tony shoots him a cocky grin. “Always, kid. And keep your luck, I don’t need it. Never have. I’m Tony St-”

“Get your ass in here, Tony,” Rhodey calls over his shoulder, voice echoing from where he’s already disappeared into the warehouse. Tony’s smile widens and he turns away from Peter, ducking through the doorway.

Peter watches them as they disappear into the darkness of the building. The door creaks shut slowly behind them, and for a split second, he considers following after them. They won’t notice, especially if he’s as quiet as possible. Plus, if he manages to take down a few of the arms dealers then Tony could never be mad at him for not listening. It would be awesome.

He lets himself revel in the glory of his daydream for a moment longer before he shakes himself out of it. He’s being stupid. He knows what his mission is. It’s to keep watch - nothing else.

He shoots a web up towards the roof of the building before he can change his mind and swings himself up.

---

Peter tries his hardest to patrol diligently for the first thirty minutes.

He paces the roof back and forth, watching out for any suspicious activity, but the warehouse district remains empty. The most exciting thing he sees is a racoon walking along the fence line. He jumps to alert at one point as a metallic sound catches in the wind and echoes through the night, but it just turns out to be a stray soda can being blown across the concrete.

A small part of him almost hopes that a nefarious looking figure slinks out of the shadows and tries to take their raid down just so that he can do something. How is he ever going to impress Tony if all he can say he’s done is hang out on a rooftop and watch cars go past on the Long Island Expressway?

---

After forty-five minutes, it all starts to get a bit dull. He’s not sure what’s taking Tony and Rhodey so long.

He tried to count the cars whizzing by on the expressway briefly, but all the bright lights gave him a headache after a while. He practised a few of the new web-shooter combinations that he and Tony dreamt up last week, and then once there’s webbing sprayed across a section of the roof he spends a good ten minutes with solvent trying to dissolve it all just to give him something else to do. 

Now, he’s resorted to having Karen help him practice for his Spanish quiz on Friday just to pass the time.

“How would you describe your family, Peter?” Karen asks him. Peter kicks at a bit of gravel mindlessly as he walks along the roofline, thinking.

“Uh,” Peter pauses, “Mi familia es pequeña. Mi tia se llama May. Mi tía es muy… amable? La quiero mucho.”

“That’s right, Peter,” Karen praises, but he’s startled out of his practice by his comms crackling to life in his ear for the first time tonight.

“Peter?” It’s not just Tony checking in like Peter guessed it might be, but Rhodey instead. His voice is tense and Peter’s on alert immediately. “Come in, Peter. Are you still outside? We-”

“Of course I’m still here, ” Peter rushes out, almost offended that they thought he might ditch. “I’m on the roof. What’s happening?”

“We need you to get down here.”

Peter pauses. Is this a trick? Some kind of test? They told him to stay out here, to keep watch. But Tony wouldn’t do this to him, surely?

“But, Mister Stark said-”

“Tony is not in a position to be calling the shots right now,” Rhodey says firmly.

“Is he-”

“Peter. Please,” Rhodey says, more steel in his voice than Peter has ever heard from the man. “Just get in here.”

Okay. No more questions.

He can do that.

“Got it.”

Peter vaults off the roof, jogging around to where he vaguely remembers the entrance being. Anxiety buzzes through him. Tony is not in a position to be calling the shots right now. What does that even mean? Peter’s brain runs away from him before he can help it. What if Tony’s been hurt? Images of him lying on the ground, bleeding and broken, flash through his mind but he tries to shove them down as he heads inside.

The warehouse is just a series of vast empty rooms, high ceiling and rickety walls which don’t look very structurally sound. Peter makes his way through a few of them, each one just as deserted as the last. He can hear hushed voices though, Tony and Rhodey, so he follows the sound.

They’re arguing, Peter realises when he steps into the room. They’re backed into a corner, neither of them looking in his direction. Rhodey’s back is turned and Peter can only just catch a glimpse of Tony from over his shoulder. He looks like he’s standing upright, which instantly lays some of Peter’s anxieties to rest.

“I’ll burn you if I repulsor it off,” Rhodey hisses. “Just wait for Peter to get here.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that. Peter shouldn’t even be here in the first place, you know he’s safer outside where-”

“He was on the roof, Tony. He would have been just as screwed as you and me.”

“Uh, hey, guys?” Peter says cautiously. As he makes his presence known, he sees Tony’s eyes whip up towards him, face paling significantly at the sight of him. “What’s going on?”

Peter isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting to find when he was called in - but as Rhodey sidesteps slightly, finally giving Peter a proper view of Tony, he realises it definitely wasn’t the Iron Man suit in a heap of metal on the floor, and Tony handcuffed to a drainpipe.

What the fuck?

He hurries over to their sides, trying not to feel sick at the sight of the thick metal clamped around Tony’s left wrist. He can’t stop staring at it though. For someone who apparently never needs a game plan, Peter’s pretty sure this wasn’t how Tony intended the night to go.

“How did this happen?” Peter blurts out before he can stop himself.

“That’s not important right now. You can’t be here.” Tony turns to Rhodey. “I told you, he can’t be here. I need you out of here, Peter, please.” The panic in Tony’s voice sends an uncomfortable shiver down Peter’s spine, despite how dramatic it feels. He’s not that incapable - he’ll be fine.

“Is anyone still here? Do you need me to go after anyone? Who chained you up? How did they even do that to the suit? What-”

“Peter,” Tony cuts him off sharply.

“You can't just expect me to walk in here and be totally cool with the fact that the suit is smashed up and you're chained to a wall,” Peter stresses, voice pitching slightly higher with confusion and maybe just a little bit of hysteria.

Tony huffs out a frustrated sigh. “Look, there a few of the guys running this place were still hanging around when we got in here. I split off from Rhodey and they caught up with me before I could even get a goddamn look at what sort of operation they’ve got going on. They told me to get out of the suit-”

“And you did?” Peter interrupts Tony incredulously, looking towards Tony. He never parts with his suits on missions like these, never.

“They had weapons - all their Chitauri shit would have fried the suit in a second - in fact it did,” Tony snaps, gesturing with his single unchained hand to the pile of charred metal. “It’s not exactly like I had a choice. And then they chained me up here while they made a getaway with all the illegal weapons we were supposed to be getting out of their hands.” Tony’s face crumples into one of defeat. “There you go. You’ve had your story. It's time for you to run along and put yourself to bed. Rhodey and I have got this handled, trust me.”

“Yeah, except you left out the part about the present our charming friends left us,” Rhodey deadpans. “We’re wasting time here, Tony. We just need Peter to give it a crack and then we’re out of here.”

God, there are so many things for Peter to unpack right there in that sentence. He focuses on the first thing that caught his attention, that makes foreboding simmer in his gut. “A present?”

Peter follows Rhodey’s eyes towards the centre of the room, noticing something that he hadn’t seen when he first walked in. It looks like a hunk of metal at first glance, a mess of wires snaking across the surface. It’s emitting an uneasy blue glow with Peter instantly recognises as Chitauri, the timer strapped to it flashing in the same hue.

It’s a bomb.

Tony’s earlier panic suddenly seems a lot less like dramatics and more so grounded in a situation that, in Peter’s mind, has grown very serious very quickly. He watches the numbers tick down.

3:03… 3:02… 3:01

Three minutes.

“Can’t we just... move it?” Peter asks. The suggestion sounds sort of stupid even to him because surely that would have been the first thing they thought of - but three minutes is more than enough time to get it far away enough that when it detonates, none of them will be in the hot zone.

Rhodey shakes his head grimly. “There’s no way to tell whether it’s rigged to blow if it’s moved. It’s not worth the risk.”

“What do you need me to do then?” Peter asks, suddenly hyper-aware that their time is dwindling with every second that ticks by.

“He doesn’t need to do anything,” Tony growls. “I told you, just repulsor them.”

“I’ll burn your damn hand off, Tony. I’m not doing that.” Rhodey turns to address Peter. “We just need you to try and pull the cuffs off. I couldn’t get it, but with your strength, if you can get them off then we’ll all be home free.”

No pressure then.

“I do not need Peter’s help, I need him to get the hell out of here,” Tony repeats. He sounds more frantic now but Peter just ignores him. Tony’s insane if he thinks he’s going to leave him here, cuffed in a room with an active bomb.

“Tony, you’re literally chained to a drainpipe. I don’t think we have any other options,” Rhodey says, before addressing Pete

“So I’m just your last resort? Jeez, thanks for the confidence boost guys, means a lot,” Peter mutters, joke falling flat as he takes a few steps closer to Tony, Rhodey moving out of the way to let him. Up close, Tony doesn’t look too banged up, or like he even put up a fight at all. The only sign of struggle at all is a pale bruise, just beginning to bloom underneath his right eye.

Two minutes.

Peter wraps one hand around Tony’s wrist - stomach twisting at the sight of blood from how furiously he’s been trying to get himself free - and the other around the chain of the cuffs. Tony eyes him warily. The only thing Peter can hear from this close up is Tony’s unsteady heartbeat and erratic breathing.

He yanks at the chain not yet quite daring to use his full strength out of fear of hurting Tony. It’s not enough. The cuffs don’t budge.

Peter tightens his grip on the metal. He pulls again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” Peter instructs Tony.

“You hurting me is the least of my worries right now,” Tony forces out.

Gritting his teeth, Peter channels as much of his strength into his arms as he can and he pulls and pulls and pulls.

Nothing. The chains don't budge or give even just a little. Peter’s not strong enough.

The realisation hits him like a freight train. He can’t do it.

“Vibranium,” Tony mutters darkly, “of fucking course.” The only metal Peter wouldn't be able to pull apart with his bare hands. Tony yanks at the cuffs as Peter steps back, guilty, embarrassed. The chain rattles against the metal of the pipe, echoing around the room.

There’s silence for a moment.

The resolve on Tony’s face breaks. He looks defeated, shaking his head to himself. He knows what’s coming for him. “I need you two to go. Now. Please. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re not leaving you.”

“Rhodey. James,” Tony’s voice is desperate now, pleading. “I need you to take Peter and go.”

The timer ticks over again.

One minute.

Peter makes a decision. The only one there is left to make.

Even in the suit, he knows that Rhodey can’t move as quickly as him, and Tony, well, he can’t move anywhere at the moment. It has to be him.

As Tony continues to plead with Rhodey, Peter makes a few tentative steps towards the device, holding his breath - Rhodey’s words echoing in his head. There’s no way to tell whether it’s rigged to blow if it’s moved.

Two more steps closer. The timer continues, numbers flashing threateningly up at Peter. Fifty-one seconds. Fifty-one seconds left of all the rest of their lives if he doesn’t act now.

Peter’s hands are shaking as painstakingly slowly, he leans down to place a hand on the outside of the device. It’s hot to the touch, but the timer just continues counting down. Nothing happens. Tentatively still, he scoops the device up towards his chest. It doesn’t explode. 

He’s got a bomb in his arms. His heart thunders against his ribcage.

“Just shoot the cuffs with it, you complete-”

“Uh, I think I’ve got a better idea,” Peter offers, “turns out it doesn’t explode if you move it.” Both Tony and Rhodey’s eyes widen, turning towards him. “I’ll see you guys in a minute.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” Tony gasps. “Don’t you dare. Put that down. Right now.” His voice shakes with pure fear in a way that cuts right to Peter’s core. He yanks against the cuffs again, this time in Peter’s direction.

The metal of the bomb is growing hotter in Peter’s arms. He shakes his head.

“Peter,” Tony grits out, "no, no, no." He’s shaking uncontrollably now - whether from fear or anger, Peter’s not sure - as he turns to Rhodey. “What the fuck are you doing, just standing there? Get that thing off him.”

Forty seconds.

Peter’s eyes widen. Without a second more hesitation, he turns on his heel.

There’s an anguished yell from behind him, the distinct rattling of metal Peter’s gotten so used to over the past few minutes. He wants so desperately to turn around and tell Tony that it’s okay, that he knows what he’s doing, that he’s just trying to protect him.

But he doesn't have time.

He sprints.

Peter was always the slowest kid in class at elementary school. His asthma never helped - all the times that he was doubled up after running a couple of laps of the track didn’t exactly earn him many status points.

Since the bite, that’s never been a problem. Now Peter has to play down his abilities in gym class. He doesn’t play them down right now though. He can’t afford to. His legs move rapidly beneath him as he weaves through the rooms he distantly remembers coming through on his way in here, feet pounding against the concrete.

He’s outside now. Night air fills his lungs as he gasps for air, desperate for enough oxygen to sustain him at this pace.

He needs to keep going.

Warehouses, ones that he distantly hopes are unused, blur past him. He’s not far away enough yet. He knows what damage these weapons can do, he’s seen them with his own eyes. Tony isn’t in the suit. He doesn’t want him to be hurt.

He’s got to do this.

He doesn’t know how much damage this thing will do when it goes off. He needs to keep running. Peter pushes harder, further.

Twelve seconds.

He slams to a halt in the middle of what looks like an empty parking lot. Maybe companies used to keep trucks here. If they still do, they won’t for much longer anyway. Not as Peter lowers the bomb down onto the ground just as carefully as he picked it up. Six seconds flashes up at him.

He turns and runs.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The countdown in Peter’s head finishes. He’s early. For a split second, there’s silence. Blissful silence.

Then, it's shattered by the inevitable arriving with a sharp bang from behind him, piercing through the night air. It’s a horrifying, deafening sound, one that’s punctuated with the sound of splintering metal shooting outwards through the air. The heat from the vivid orange flames that dart up into the sky engulfs him.

The force hits him not even a split-second later. It knocks all the air out of his lungs, throwing him through the air.

The warehouse he can see in the distance, hazy through all the smoke and debris, is still intact.

If Mister Stark is okay then all of this is worth it - he’d do it a million times over.

He’s unconscious before he can even hit the ground.

---

“-Peter? Kid? You have to hang on, buddy. You think you can do that for me?”

A voice. It floats vaguely around Peter’s periphery but his ears are ringing and he can’t work out what they’re saying. He thinks maybe he recognises the voice. He tries to turn himself towards it but his whole body screams in protest at the movement.

It hurts. Everywhere hurts.

“God. No, no, no, don’t do this to me. Peter. Peter. I need you to stay with me, please.”

The voice sounds upset. There’s a hand holding his. He thinks he can feel it but he can’t squeeze back. He doesn’t have control of his body.

He’s in pain.

Everything is on fire.

He doesn’t want to stay. Not here. He slips back into the darkness.

There’s no agony in the darkness.

---

Peter’s head is throbbing when he wakes again, every muscle in his body aching. He cracks his eyes open to try and figure out where he is, what’s happening, but the bright light that slips through his eyelids feels like it’s burning straight into his skull. He whines, burrowing into the pillows behind him as though that will allow him to escape it.

His head is pounding. Why is it pounding?

He lets his eyes slip shut again to alleviate some of the relentless pain and tries to sort through his muddled thoughts. He casts his mind back as far as he can.

The illegal weapons ring. The warehouse.

The drain pipe. The vibranium cuffs.

The decimated Iron Man suit.

The bomb.

Mister Stark.

Mister Stark.

Peter shoves himself upright suddenly, his ribs protesting and sending a sharp jolt of pain through his chest. Instinctively, he sucks in a gasp of air, but all that does is exacerbate the pain more. He’s hardly concentrating on that, though.

He’s in the MedBay, he realises. He recognises the white-washed rooms and sterile scent like the back of his hand by now.

Tony. He needs to find Tony.

His eyes dart around until they land on a blurry figure propped in a chair at his bedside. He blinks a few more times, his eyes finally adjusting to the light.

Relief. Some of Peter's panic eases. It’s Tony.

It’s not an uncommon sight, Tony at his bedside. It’s almost concerning, maybe, the fact that Peter wakes up in these situations so often that he’s no longer fazed by it. What is unusual is the fact that Tony isn’t looking at Peter. His eyes are glazed over slightly, focused down on where he’s picking at the corner of a stark white bandage on his wrist - his left wrist, the one that had been cuffed, Peter realises in his hazy mind. The image of Tony chained to that drain pipe, skin bloodied from the way he’d been yanking at those cuffs, works its way to the front of his mind and burns itself there.

“M’ster Stark?” Peter struggles to raise his voice to anything above a rasp. At the sound, Tony looks up, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. His expression is impassive, but there’s something brewing behind it that Peter can’t quite work out.

“You’re awake,” he says simply. There’s no fussing. No rearranging of the pillows, or gentle one-armed hugs or are you okay?’s

He just reaches for the call button on the bedside table instead.

Peter’s still struggling to connect himself with reality, but the feeling that something isn’t right floods through him. He’s slightly less blinded by the sharp ache of pain now, so when he Peter looks at Tony, he sees things he didn’t notice before. He sees how tightly hunched his shoulders are, the deep lines in his face - only exacerbated by the harsh overhead lighting, eyebrows furrowed, drawn into a scowl.

But he’s okay. He’s breathing.

He’s alive.

Peter opens his mouth to say something - what exactly, he’s not sure - but he’s cut off by a voice that disappointingly, isn’t Tony’s.

Peter and Tony glance up at the same time to see Bruce passing through the doorway and crossing the room to Peter’s bedside. “Good to see you awake, Peter.” Bruce places a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter realises that he’s still hovering at the same awkward angle he had been when he shot up to look for Tony. He lets Bruce push him back towards the pillows behind him. A tiny breath of relief puffs past his lips when the pressure is taken off his aching chest. “You gave all of us a pretty nasty scare.”

All of us. That must include Tony as well, who has returned to resolutely not looking at Peter.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean to,” Peter croaks out. His throat is horribly dry, but Bruce seems to be prepared because he pushes a glass of water into his hands. Peter grips it carefully, trying his best not to let his hands shake - with what he’s not sure. Anxiety? Pain? Leftover adrenaline? He tucks the straw in-between his lips and takes a sip just to try and alleviate some of the awkwardness he feels, not saying a word and pretending not to see the probing looks Bruce is sending Tony’s way.

“It’s okay. I’ve learnt to expect the unexpected when it comes to you, Peter,” Bruce tells him. Peter watches warily at the way Bruce’s eyes flit between him and Tony. He feels like there’s something unspoken going on that he hasn’t been let in on.

“How long have I been out for?” Peter asks, suddenly noticing the light filtering in through the darkened windows.

“About fourteen hours,” Bruce tells him. “It gave your healing a chance to give everything a good crack. It’s three-thirty on Saturday afternoon.”

Peter swallows. The last he remembers clearly is the panic etched so deeply onto Tony’s face as he sprinted from that warehouse, bomb cradled in his arms. Everything after that is a bit of a blur, a haze of freezing night air and the darkened sky above him and then fire, the reverberation of the bang, being tosses backwards like he weighed nothing - like he was nothing. That’s what people are to those kinds of weapons. Destructible. Nothing.

Peter couldn’t have let it go off anywhere near Tony. That was never even an option.

“Mister Stark, I really wasn’t trying to-”

Tony shakes his head, the movement sharp and jerky. “Just let Bruce do his job, Peter.” Peter barely recognises the tone. It’s not warm, or smooth and reassuring, the one that he’s gradually taken on as he spends more and more time at Peter’s side. This is cold and impersonal, the type of tone that makes a shiver run down Peter’s spine involuntarily. He hates it immediately.

Bruce shoots Tony a confused look, “It’s okay, I can focus just fine with you jabbering on. I’m used to dealing with the two of you.”

Tony doesn’t budge, just giving another shake of his head. “We’ll talk afterwards,” Tony says, letting himself sink back into the chair again instead of sitting ramrod straight. The movement is less relieved and more defeated. Exhausted. Worn down.

Bruce looks taken aback for a second before he regains his composure and focuses his attention back on Peter. “Are you in any pain?” he asks, feeling around Peter’s ribs. He’s gentle, but Peter flinches back anyway as he brushes over a particularly tender spot.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter sees Tony’s eyes dart up to fix on him at the movement. Concern flashes across his face but it’s gone as quickly as it came. By the time Peter can turn his head to catch Tony’s eye properly, the man is staring out the window, stony expression set back in place.

The knot of discomfort in Peter’s stomach grows.

“I see your healing hasn’t quite gotten the whole way there yet,” Bruce hums. “You broke five of your ribs,” he explains when he sees Peter’s thinly-veiled quizzical look. “A few second-degree burns on your arms. You’ve got a pretty nasty head wound as well, but with a few stitches, it will be as good as new in no time. You’re lucky that’s all it is. It looks like you took a pretty big hit when you landed.”

Peter winces, noticing for the first time the thick white bandages covering his upper arms. He’s used to this, listening to Bruce reel off a laundry list of injuries that he’s had to tend to for him. But this seems bad - even for him. He reaches up for the back of his head, feeling around. His fingertips brush over the stitches and he hisses before Bruce can wrap a hand around his wrist gently to tug him away.

“Is it bad?” he mumbles.

Tony scoffs almost inaudibly at the question. Bruce just gives him a softened smile. “Nothing a few days in bed won’t let your healing take care of.”

“A few days? But I feel-”

“Don’t argue with him,” Tony mutters, speaking up again.

That’s more than enough to shut Peter up. He bites down on his bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously as Bruce bustles around Peter for a few more minutes. He gives Peter another dose of pain meds when even shifting against the pillows makes the angry aching in his ribs flare-up, makes sure that he’s got enough liquids to keep him hydrated and checks all of his vitals once more.

“Are you going to be okay if I leave you to it?” Bruce asks once he’s finished. He’s looking directly at Peter but before Peter can even open his mouth to answer, Tony nods stiffly. “We’re fine.”

Bruce glances back at Peter, conflicted, but Peter keeps his mouth shut. He needs to grow a pair and just explain himself to Tony.

As Bruce closes the door behind him, Peter realises all of a sudden that he actually would have quite liked Bruce to stay. Especially as Tony turns to him properly for the first time since Peter’s woken up. His face is still set firmly, emotionless, but there’s a new fury that’s been let loose, burning behind his eyes.

Peter can only hold eye-contact for a few moments before he ducks his eyes away. Neither of them speaks for a minute.

“Care to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Tony asks lowly.

Peter looks up again cautiously. “The bomb... I, I had to get it out of there.”

“And you had to do that by running out of there with it like a football?”

“I didn’t mean to get hurt, or get in the way, I promise,” Peter rushes out quickly, trying to make Tony understand. “But you were stuck and that thing was going to go off and I know I’m faster than Rhodey in the suit, it had to be me, it had to.” Peter watches as Tony sucks in a sharp breath at his words. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Trying to be helpful?” Tony repeats incredulously. “Is it lost on you how completely reckless you were? I don’t give a damn about what you were trying to do, not when your own actions end with you in a hospital bed,” Tony growls. “Do you know that Rhodey had to be the one to come out and find you splayed out on the concrete like a fucking ragdoll after the bomb you were carrying imploded in your arms? Or that I had to sit there, holding your hand wondering if you were about to die on me in the back of a medevac, of all places? Does any of that even matter to you?” Tony stops and sighs, burying his head in his hands for the briefest of moments. Peter wonders what he’s trying to conceal. “God, Peter. I just wish you’d put the tiniest bit of value on your own fucking life for once.”

“Of course it matters. I care about my own life” - just maybe not more than yours. Maybe I’d rather die protecting you than live with the guilt of not being able to save you - “and I was careful, I promise.”

“I don’t care how careful you were, Peter. My problem is with the fact that you picked up the damn thing in the first place. It’s the first rule of bomb safety. You don’t touch it. Ever.”

“I was never taught bomb safety,” Peter mutters, for no real reason apart from the small spark of satisfaction of talking back. He can feel his hackles rising a little as he’s dismissed so carelessly. He was just trying to help. That thing would have blown Tony to pieces.

“You shouldn’t need a fucking SHIELD standard bomb safety course to know not to pick up an active bomb and run with it. What if the bomb had gone off when you picked it up, huh? How did you know that wasn’t going to happen? Then all of us would have been done for. Even if we’d somehow survived the blast, the building would have collapsed on us. Did you think of any of this?” Tony accuses as if he thinks that in that moment, Peter had room for any other thoughts in his mind apart from the constant chant of, keep Mister Stark safe, keep Mister Stark safe, keep Mister Stark safe.

“I had to take that risk!” Peter snaps, voice raised as he loses his cool slightly. “I saved your life.”

Tony’s stare hardens. “Yeah, and nearly ended your goddamn own. This isn’t a trade-off. It wasn’t your call to make.”

“You would have done the same thing to protect me,” Peter points out. Tony just seethes at the statement, shoving his chair out backwards to stand, suddenly towering taller over Peter.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think I would have done. You are not me.” Tony paces, back and forth at the foot of Peter’s bed, releasing some sort of frustrated tension that’s emanating off of him. “I let you come along because I thought I could trust you to listen to me, Peter.”

I thought I could trust you.

The words hit Peter harder than anything else. Tony can trust him. He wasn’t purposefully trying to go against orders. He was trying to save his life.

“You would have died,” Peter says, the words soft as he struggles to force them out. All his anger has disappeared now, replaced with the memory of fear pulsing through him as he remembers what went down in the warehouse. Tony would without a doubt been blown apart if someone hadn’t gotten that bomb out of there. He really, really doesn’t want to think about that. “I don’t know what I would have done if you-”

Tony shakes his head, dismissing Peter’s weak attempt at building bridges between them before he could really even say what he needs to. The movement is sharp enough that Peter’s mouth snaps shut, words dying on his tongue.

“You’re a kid, Peter, Tony thunders, the word kid flying out of his mouth with more vitriol than Peter has ever heard it from him. He’s used to the word escaping Tony’s lips when they’re pulled in a warm smile, reserved just for him. It’s not like that today. It’s the furthest away it could possibly get. “I don’t need your help. I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I thought you’d be able to work that out for yourself but apparently I have to spell a few things out for you. You’re not an Avenger. I just want you to survive goddamn high school - and it seems like even that’s too much to ask of you.”

Peter can feel tears burning in his eyes but he blinks them away desperately, willing himself to not let them spill down his cheeks. He’s already being spoken to like a child, he doesn’t need to give Tony any more reason to believe that he’s nothing more than that.

“I think you’re being a bit harsh, Tony,” a new voice says firmly.

Tony, clearly having been so engrossed in his tirade, jerks around to face the door. Rhodey is standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. Tony’s scowl just deepens.

“Shut it, Rhodes,” Tony snaps. “If he can handle a live bomb then I think he can handle hearing the truth.”

“You’re not going to do this. Not right now. Peter’s hurt.”

A ghost of something unreadable crosses Tony’s face. A tiny bit of the fight eeks out of his posture and his shoulders slump. His voice still has the same hard edge to it though, as he says, “I’m very aware of that, funnily enough.”

Rhodey steps forward and wraps a firm hand around Tony’s elbow, despite the protests, and all but hauls him from the room. He halts in the doorway and turns around for a second. Peter eyes him hesitantly. “It’s good to see you awake, Peter,” he says. It’s solemn but genuine.

Peter nods. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s run out of words. The two of them disappear out the door, leaving Peter alone.

Peter thinks he’d rather have just stayed asleep. At least this way the ache of his bones wouldn’t be competing with the void of regret growing inside of him.

He was just trying to protect Tony - but now all Tony sees him as is an incapable kid, and worse than that, someone that he can’t even trust.

---

The room stays empty all afternoon.

Maybe a little naively, Peter keeps waiting for Tony to reappear.

He doesn’t.

The closest he gets to any affection is from Bruce, who gives him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder as he ups his dose of painkillers before he goes to sleep.

Tony doesn’t come in to say goodnight either. FRIDAY tells him that Tony is still awake. She asks Peter if he’d like her to tell Tony that he’s asking for him.

Peter shakes his head, curling up under the blankets. “I, uh, no, no thank you, FRIDAY. I’m okay. Totally fine.”

He goes to sleep trying to believe his own words.

---

By the next morning, Peter’s head has stopped giving him grief completely, and according to Bruce, the stitches have dissolved. The burns are on their way to healing as well. The pain in his ribs is the only thing he’s really still contending with but he’s still not allowed to leave the MedBay.

Bruce hangs around for a while, listening to Peter’s weak arguments about how he feels great and how he’s sure that he’ll be totally fine if Bruce would just discharge him to go home. Tony must have told Bruce that May is away for the weekend because that particular request gets shot down extremely quickly.

After all, Peter knows Bruce doesn’t believe a single word that he’s saying, and isn't even considering his arguments for a second - but he’s indulging him anyway. It’s his way of keeping him company, at least for a little while, without making Peter feel pitied. It’s nice.

Especially since it’s the only human contact he gets for the morning - if you don’t count FRIDAY. He spends the rest of the morning scrolling aimlessly through his phone, chatting to her. Peter thinks maybe he can count her as human contact. She’s always felt real enough to him anyway, such a source of comfort in times like these that it almost feels like an insult to think of her as any less.

By the time the afternoon rolls around, Peter tells himself that he hasn’t just spent the entire morning tentatively hoping for a visit from Tony.

He was stupid to even think about it. Of course, he was never going to show. Peter learnt that yesterday.

---

A few hours later, as Peter’s making his way down his Instagram feed for what feels like the hundredth time today to try and keep his mind off everything, there’s a voice in the doorway.

“Hey, kid.”

Peter’s head shoots up at the familiar words, hope blooming in his chest for a moment before his eyes meet the person’s in the doorway. Rhodey. The hope withers and dies.

He forces his lips into what feels like the barest shadow of a smile. He doesn’t know why he thought it might be Tony. Of course it isn’t him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Unlike yesterday, where he appeared briefly to all but haul Tony out of the room, Rhodey appears to be intent on staying this time. He crosses from the doorway to Peter’s bedside and sinks into the chair that Tony had been occupying yesterday.

“How’re you doing?” he asks once he’s settled, watching Peter carefully like he’s trying to pick up on any tells. Peter attempts a smile again. If this was Tony he might be worried about his poor acting skills giving him away, but it’s not. As much as he likes Rhodey, he doesn’t know him like Tony.

(Not many people know him like Tony.)

Peter shrugs. His ribs have been aching all morning and he’s got a splitting headache that just won’t leave. It’s probably too much phone time. Tony would tell him to put it away and let his eyes rest if he was here.

“M’fine.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

As Peter shrugs again in answer, Rhodey seems to cotton on to the fact that Peter doesn’t feel much like talking about his ailments, so he changes his tack. Peter’s grateful - it means he doesn’t have to think too much about his own issues. He’s sick of feeling sorry for himself.

So they talk about nothing for a little while. Rhodey’s last deployment that Peter hasn’t caught up on. How Peter’s doing at school. What he’s been working on in the lab.

But eventually, Peter just can’t help himself. He chews on his lip for a second, before he bites the bullet and just hopes the answer isn’t something that he doesn’t want to hear. “I, uh, do you think Mister Stark might come down today? I get he’s probably super busy and, y’know, mad at me, but I just thought… maybe...”

Peter knows what the answer is going to be as soon as Rhodey’s facial expression folds into one of distinct regret. “Tony’s a little busy today, Pete,” he says, before pausing. Peter can tell he’s thinking on his feet, trying to cover for his friend. Peter curls further into the blankets he’s lying under. “He had a few meetings come up. You know how it is.”

That’s exactly the problem. Peter does know how it is - and it’s not like this, whatever this is. Tony will drop anything business-related in a second to take care of the people he loves. That’s who he is, Peter’s discovered, after months of texts and dropping by and late nights in the lab, chipping away at his walls.

Peter doesn’t know which is worse. Tony telling Rhodey to lie to him about where he is, or Tony actually deciding that meetings are higher on his priority list than Peter as he lies alone in the MedBay.

He hates me. He hates me. He hates me.

Rhodey obviously sees the look on his face that Peter’s trying so hard to hide because he sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m sure he’d be down here as soon as possible if he could.”

Liar. He wouldn’t. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.

“He hates me now, doesn’t he?” Peter asks, voice small and resigned. He doesn’t want to hear the answer, not really. Not when he’s pretty much already accepted that he knows what it will be. 

Rhodey’s eyes widen. He flounders for a second, looking lost. Peter’s once again reminded that he’s not Tony. Kid doesn’t sound the same when he says it. He doesn’t know how to settle Peter when anxiety wraps itself around his chest, all-consuming. He doesn’t know that a hand run through Peter’s hair will make him go soft and that if you scratch right behind his ear he’ll lean into the touch automatically. 

Tony knows all these things.

“Absolutely not, he doesn’t hate you,” Rhodey says, finding his voice. “He’s just busy, I-”

“I know you’re bullshitting,” Peter mumbles. He knows it’s rude. He knows he shouldn’t talk like that to Rhodey - Rhodey’s just trying to help, he’s here, which is more than anyone else. But he’s tired and sore and frustrated and god, he just wants someone here to love him. “He hates me. He does. Otherwise he'd be here."

“Tony could never hate you, Peter,” Rhodey says. “I’ll talk to him, okay? He’s just having a tough time.”

"All I was trying to do was help. He didn’t have the suit. Otherwise, he was going to… he could have…” Peter trails off, the words lodging themselves in his throat.

Rhodey doesn't seem to have an answer for this. He knows as well as Peter does what would have happened if Peter hadn't gotten that bomb out of there. The two of them fall into quiet.

Even still, Rhodey doesn’t budge from his bedside for an hour or so after that. It’s company, it’s something, but it’s not the same.

Peter will take what he can get.

---

May phones that night when he’s alone, again. The room is swathed in darkness, lit only by the glow of the TV. There’s an old rerun of Jeopardy! playing that he isn’t watching.

Peter shifts in bed, trying to make himself more comfortable as he answers her call. His chest aches as he props himself further up the pillows. Bruce has told him it’s totally normal to expect some discomfort as they heal but it’s been getting steadily worse all throughout the afternoon - maybe speaking to Rhodey took it out of him more than he thought. In the back of his mind, he reminds himself to call Bruce down for another dose of painkillers before he goes to sleep tonight.

He has FRIDAY put May on speakerphone. This way, her voice echoes around the room, filling the empty space that’s been threatening to suffocate him all evening.

He tries to ask her how her trip is going, but apparently, she’s not so interested in pleasantries tonight.

“You want to tell me why I had to wait for a call from Colonel Rhodes to let me know that my nephew is in hospital?”

Peter swallows. “Technically it’s just the MedBay,” he offers weakly.

May makes a slightly unimpressed sound at his answer. “Peter,” she says, “I’m serious. You can’t just, not tell me these things.”

“I dunno,” Peter says, shrugging even though she can’t see him. “I was going to eventually, I promise.”

(He does know why he didn’t tell her. She’s having a nice getaway with her friends. She doesn’t get many of those, not with Peter around. He doesn’t want to get in anyone else's way this weekend.)

“Is Tony okay? I was so worried about you I didn’t even think to ask, which I feel terrible about but-”

“He’s fine,” Peter interjects. “Totally fine. It was, uh, mainly just me.”

“Is he with you? Can I speak to him?”

Peter casts an eye around the room, almost like he’s looking for the man that he knows isn’t here - it just feels like he should be. Peter lying in the MedBay alone feels wrong. “He’s not, actually. Not right now.”

“He has been though, right?” May asks, though there’s no worry in her tone. She says it like a given. Like there’s nowhere else Tony would be rather than at Peter’s side, especially when she can’t be there herself. She trusts Tony to look after him.

He wonders whether she would understand that Tony can’t stand to be around him if he told her what happened.

“Yeah, he has been…” he says, hoping the uncertainty in his voice doesn’t give him away.

“Good. I'm looking forward to seeing both of you. I’ve booked the first flight home, I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.”

Peter shoots upright, ribs twinging. “No, no,” he rushes out, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh hush,” May tuts, “I want to, don’t be silly.”

Peter opens his mouth to refute her again but he finds that he can’t. He wants her here. Now more than ever.

May keeps talking and Peter lies back and closes his eyes. If he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that he’s lying sprawled out on the couch back in their apartment and May’s just in the kitchen, somewhere nearby where she could step over and give him a hug as soon as he broke and admitted that, god, he really needs one right now.

Only almost, though. Because the room still smells sterile rather than of May’s favourite cedarwood reed diffuser and the sheets underneath him are soft, too soft, so unlike the worn, slightly scratchy fabric of their own couch.

He lets himself drift off pretending anyway, clinging to the daydream of comfort.

---

By the time Peter’s let May’s voice lull him into a deep sleep, he’s completely forgotten that he didn’t call Bruce in for any more painkillers.

---

It’s dark when Peter wakes next, and he can barely breathe.

He has no idea what the time is. He can barely remember where he is.

All he knows is pain.

It burns from deep inside his chest, emanating everywhere, cutting right down to his bones. His breathing is coming in heavy, painful pants and every gulp of air he sucks in sends a jolt of pain through his ribs. He doesn’t know what’s going on - he’s still stuck in a half-asleep daze but he feels like he’s dying.

It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts.

He screws his eyes shut. It wasn’t like he was seeing much anyway, his vision blurred with tears and the room spinning dangerously around him.

Someone whimpers. It’s whiny sounding, like a wounded animal. Peter hates it. He tucks his knees to his chest - more pain - and buries his head in his knees to try and block out the sound. It doesn’t work.

A few minutes later, still curled up in the same cramped position, still lost inside his world of pain, Peter’s hazy mind comes to the conclusion that it’s him whimpering.

Pathetic. Pathetic.

He needs his pain meds. He needs something to numb this, to numb everything. In the back of his mind, he distantly remembers that he needed to ask Bruce for more. He doesn’t think he did. Or at least, he doesn’t remember the man ever coming to administer them.

It’s your own fault, Peter.

Something else to add to the list.

He twists in agony as another strike of pain hits, his ribs flaring up again. He could ask FRIDAY to get Bruce for him. He knows that she’d wake him up. But he doesn’t want to disturb him. If he needed his meds he should have remembered to ask at a reasonable hour.

You’re already in everyone’s way. Mister Stark hates you. Bruce has been having to deal with you all the time.

Stop being a baby.

Mister Stark doesn’t want a kid on the team.

Prove it to them. Show them that you can be strong.

He tucks his limbs closer to his chest, curling up tighter. Everything hurts, and he can feel tears starting to burn in his eyes. He feels a few hot tears drip down his cheeks before he can contain them and he shifts a hand up to wipe them away.

“F-FRIDAY?” Peter starts, quietly. He stumbles over the word, voice hitching.

“Yes, Peter?” FRIDAY replies. Her voice is soothing, and Peter wants to lean into its familiarity.

"I..." Peter falls silent. He doesn’t know what he’s asking. He just wants.

---

Peter's not sure how much time has passed when he hears footfall outside his door. He thinks maybe he’s imagining it. The pain is ebbing now, rising and falling like the tide, returning every so often just to crash over him and drown him in it.

The door creaks open, a sliver of light falling across the room. Peter’s breath chokes in his throat

I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m fine.

Don’t make a sound. Don’t be a bother.

Don’t get in the way.

“Peter?”

That’s his name, spoken in such an unsure way and shielded behind a cold demeanour. Peter immediately knows exactly who it is. His breathing ratchets up because oh god, it’s Tony and he sounds exactly the same way as he did last time they spoke. Peter’s meant to be showing that he’s strong, that he’s capable. And yet here he is hyperventilating and trembling in pain under the covers. He stays as still as he can, eyes screwed shut. Maybe if he lies here for long enough, Tony might leave.

He doesn’t want Tony to leave - not really. But there must be some mistake. Tony can’t mean to be here. If he meant to be here, surely he would have been a whole lot earlier.

“Do you need something? FRIDAY said you were in pain.”

Oh. He doesn’t even mean to be here. FRIDAY called him down. Peter doesn’t remember asking FRIDAY to fetch him.

“Peter?” Tony questions when he doesn’t reply, voice now less hostile and laced with confusion.

Peter doesn't know what he needs. But he knows he wants someone to stay. 

“H’rts,” Peter mumbles before he can stop himself. “Please make it stop.”

And then before he can stop himself, he’s crying, embarrassing loud, ugly sobs because he’s so sore and so lonely and Tony is just there, only a few feet away and yet he feels so impossibly far away. He wants someone to hold his hand and push the strands of sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. He wants someone to tell him he’s going to be okay because right now all he knows is pain, burning through his veins, and he can’t see the way out.

He wants May. He wants Tony.

He wants someone to hold him.

Quiet footsteps tread towards his bedside. Peter doesn’t dare open his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tony soothes, and the way he speaks so gently only makes Peter sob harder. It’s hard to breathe with the lump in his throat and crushing ache of his ribs. He gasps out without realising it, and then tries to quieten himself. Tony’s still there though. He hasn't left. Peter feels him lower a warm hand down onto his back, rubbing in circles gently.

“Shh. Breathe, Pete, you just gotta breathe. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Why is he being so nice? Suddenly, Peter wonders if he deserves it. He can’t even remember if he apologised to Tony.

“‘m sorry, I tried not to get in the way but it hurts,” Peter whines. He sounds pathetic but he can’t help it. “I can’t breathe. M’ster Stark, make it stop, make it stop, please.”

“You need to talk to me, buddy. What hurts?” Tony asks. His voice is quiet and reassuring. Peter likes this Tony better than angry Tony. He lets his eyes slip closed. “No, no, I need you to look at me. Just for a second, okay?”

Look at him? At Tony? Peter can do that, he thinks. He blinks his eyes open, eyelids heavy. He wants to close them again so badly, but Tony’s got this concerned look drawn all over his face while he’s looking at him, which Peter’s so confused about. The last time he saw Tony, the man had looked like he thought Peter was the worst person on the planet. Like he hated him.

Tony grabs the medicine chart off the clipboard above Peters’ bed and Peter watches through tear-blurred vision as he scans his eyes over it. “That'll do it. Your ribs are probably throwing a fit since you haven’t had any meds since midday, Pete, that was well over twelve hours ago” - Peter tries to do the math to figure out what time it is, what ungodly hour he’s dragged Tony out of bed to run around after his sorry ass, but his brain is too addled to figure it out - “didn’t Bruce dose you up before bed?” Tony asks. He knows the answer. He has the chart in front of him. Bruce is meticulous, he never forgets to tick these things off.

Peter gives a pitiful shake of his head, a barely noticeable movement. “M’fault. Didn’t ask.”

Tony sighs, biting down on his lip like he wants to get into it but he knows he can’t. Peter’s glad. He doesn’t have the energy for any of this. He feels like his brain is still trying to play catch up. Every time he blinks, Tony is still there when he opens his eyes, standing in front of him, concern pulling his face down in a frown.

“Well, I’m gonna dose you up now.”

“The good stuff?” Peter mumbles, turning his face into the pillow to try and hide a wince as another wave of pain arrives, lapping at his toes before surging forward to wash over him. Tony doesn’t miss it, and his movements grow hurried as he fumbles to pull out a dose of Peter’s pain meds.

His fingers are gentle as he takes Peter’s arm in his grip to keep it steady. Peter didn’t realise how badly he was still trembling - from the panic or pain he’s not sure. Tony slips the syringe into the IV catheter and plunges down slowly. Peter watches him lazily, eyes cracked open. He’s seen Tony do this so many times, hell, he’s even seen the man do it to himself. He trusts him.

“Yeah, bud, the real good stuff.”

The familiar sensation wraps Peter in its hold not long after. He lets his eyes flutter closed, but tries to blink them open again when he hears a voice above him. “Yeah, there we go… no, shhh, close your eyes.”

Peter does as he’s told because the voice is gentle and he trusts it. He doesn’t think it would lead him astray.

“There we go. Nice work, kiddo.”

The room floats away, but there’s a pressure against his scalp, a hand running through his hair, grounding him to reality. It’s nice. A much nicer reality than the one he was trapped before. That seems like such a long time ago. Maybe Peter dreamt it?

“‘m sorry I didn’t listen,” Peter mumbles out. He turns, pressing his face into the palm of Tony’s hand like a starved animal seeking out the barest scraps of physical attention. Tony curls his fingers gently, blunt nails scratching against the tufts of hair around Peter’s ear.

“You’re okay, bud, you’re okay. We can talk later when you’re not so loopy. Just try and get some sleep.”

Talk… later? What if Tony leaves again? What if there is no later? Peter wants to talk now. Ben always used to tell him that you should never go to bed angry and he and Tony have broken that rule the last two nights now - he doesn’t want to do it again. But whenever he tries to open his mouth, his tongue feels too heavy to force out any of the right words.

“Sleep?” Peter slurs out quietly.

Tony nods. “Yeah, all you need right now is a good night’s sleep. I’ll be right here in the morning,” he says, words soft and genuine. Peter believes them - but he makes sure anyway.

“Right h’re?”

Tony nods again, settling further into the chair he’s sitting in as if to physically demonstrate to Peter exactly what he’s saying. “I promise.”

That’s good enough for Peter. Sleep does sound pretty good, on second thought. There’s a floaty feeling flowing through Peter now, dissipating the pain. He’s comfy, and the weight of Tony’s hand against his cheek where he’s still scratching at his hair feels so nice. He rolls over, trapping Tony’s hand there between the pillow and his cheek. He can’t leave now, even if he wants to.

---

Hours later, Peter only remembers a few things from the night before when he surfaces from his sleep, memories blurring together in the back of his mind.

Burning pain and then nothing. Someone by his bedside maybe? A hand in his hair. A quiet voice.

Close your eyes, you’re okay.

Peter knows that voice. It sounds so achingly familiar, even as it echoes through his thoughts.

You’re okay, buddy. You’re okay.

Peter rolls over onto his side at the sound of an exhale from beside him, the smallest of yawns like someone trying their best to be quiet. It’s Tony, he realises, the comforting words whispering through his mind suddenly making much more sense. He clearly managed to get his hand free from underneath Peter’s cheek last night but he’s still here anyway, in the chair by his bedside, the one that’s remained largely unoccupied over the last couple of days. He’s dressed in an old t-shirt and faded jeans - Peter dreads to think what important lab work he pulled the man away from last night.

“Hey, bud” Tony mumbles. His voice is rough with sleep and he stretches his arms out above his head, poorly hiding a wince as he does.

A rush of shame floods Peter almost immediately. He can’t believe that Tony had to spend the night down here last night just because he kicked up a fuss about a little bit of pain.

He stares stupidly for a moment, willing the words to work their way out of his exhausted brain but he doesn’t know what to say. Tony shouldn’t be here. He probably doesn’t want to be here.

“You can go,” is the first thing that works its way free from Peter’s mouth. Tony raises his eyebrows.

“Good morning to you too,” Tony says, looking equal parts bemused and a little taken aback by Peter’s greeting. “Am I allowed to at least ask you how you’re feeling before you kick me out?

“I’m not kicking you out,” Peter mutters, the slightest bit defensive. He doesn’t know why Tony would think that he’s the one that wants him gone. He’d love Tony to stay - he’d have loved Tony to stay the second he woke up in the MedBay and they had their blowout. But it’s not about him. He doesn’t want Tony to stay if he doesn’t want to. He’s just making it easier for him - he’s made it abundantly clear that spending time with Peter isn’t exactly at the top of his priorities list, after all. “I, just, uh, I’m sorry you had to come down here. I don’t really remember much from last night.”

“That doesn’t exactly surprise me, you were pretty out of it,” Tony says easily. He shifts in his seat, but he seems to be making himself more comfortable than preparing to get up out of it and walk out the door again. The longer he sticks around the more it’s going to hurt when he leaves.

“I know you're mad at me and I know you don’t really want to be here. You can go, I won’t mind or be offended or anything, I promise,” Peter says, words catching as he says them because of their mistruth. He does mind. He does want Tony here.

But not if he doesn’t want to be.

“I think this means we need to talk about the other day, huh?” Tony says simply. Peter’s brows furrow together in confusion. He wonders if Tony is expecting an apology. He didn’t exactly give him one the other day - didn’t think that saving someone’s life warranted an apology. But obviously he went wrong somewhere along the way because if he hadn’t, maybe Tony might have stuck around.

“I’m sorry, Mister Stark,” he starts, a little nervous. He doesn’t know what he’s expected to say. What do you say to make someone want to stay? “I promise I wasn’t trying to not listen, or put any of us in a dangerous situation, or-”

“You don’t need to do the apologies, kid,” Tony says with a wave of his hand and a strained expression on his face as he listens to Peter’s words. Peter snaps his mouth shut.

“But I really am sorry,” Peter tries again after a beat of silence that Tony doesn’t fill. “I was just trying to protect you, that’s all. You were trapped and the whole place was going to blow and I couldn’t let anything happen to you… I couldn’t.” Peter watches Tony’s face carefully - he’s struggling to read his mix of emotions. “I’m only apologising for not thinking it through. I’m not apologising for trying to protect you,” Peter finishes determinedly. He won’t say he’s sorry for trying to save Tony’s life. Never. He’d do it over and over again in a heartbeat.

“That there, Pete, that’s the problem,” Tony says. He scrubs a hand down the side of his face roughly. “I can’t handle the idea of you protecting me, it’s-”

Peter frowns, a tiny stab of betrayal shooting through his chest. Despite the last few days, somewhere deep down still, he really thought that Tony still believed in him, at least a little bit. Maybe that was stupid of him.

“You let me come to Germany and let me loose against Captain America and the Winter Solider and now suddenly you don’t even trust me to protect you against a few guys with guns and explosives? I handled it, Mister Stark, and I know you think what I did was stupid and reckless, but I handled it.”

Tony shakes his head. “You’ve got a couple of things a little twisted, not that I can exactly blame you, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly the other day,” - he huffs humourlessly. Peter thinks there might be regret in his eyes. “I know what you can do - I’ve known that since before I even really knew you. You’re capable of dealing with what you did the other day, you showed us that.”

“So what’s changed?” Peter asks. He knows he should keep the edge of frustration out of his voice but he can’t. If Tony really trusts him as much as he claims to then why won’t he just accept that Peter is capable of so much more? “Why did you freak out the other day?”

“What’s changed is that now I do really know you.”

Peter’s confused. This whole conversation feels like a roller-coaster of emotions that he’s a little too tired and dozy from the residual drugs pumping through his system to process. “I… what?”

“Now I know you,” Tony repeats. “When I took you to Germany, I didn’t know any more than Spider-Man, really. But you’re still a kid behind the mask, buddy-” Peter scowls weakly, “-and I know you’re gonna tell me that you’re not a kid and all that, but you are and I know you’d guard my life with your own if you’re given the chance and I trust you but that right there? That’s the damn problem.”

“The problem?” Peter repeats incredulously. He’s grown up watching movies and reading comic books under the bed covers with a torch after his bedtime, enamoured with the idea of the action hero choosing to do the right thing - even at the expense of themselves. He’s always thought that laying your life on the line for someone is the most selfless thing you can do for someone and that’s what Tony’s upset about?

“It’s… oh, I don’t know,” Tony mutters. He pauses, thinking for a second. “I was the one who screwed that mission up in the first place. I let my guard down and those idiots got a hold of me. My bad-”

“That wasn’t on you,” Peter says firmly. At this point, it’s becoming unclear who’s trying to comfort who.

“Uh, uh, I’m not done,” Tony chastises. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. And not just because your Aunt would skin me alive. I’ve, uh, I’ve grown kind of fond of you, kid, I don’t know if you can tell. And the idea of anything happening to you - anything at all, let alone something happening because of me doesn’t sit particularly well.”

Oh.

Oh.

That makes more sense than Peter was expecting. He suddenly feels bad about even rising to the challenge of Tony’s argument in the first place. He knows that Tony tries to cover up the way he feels with a mask of sarcasm and sharp words - Peter just never thought that he’d be on the receiving end.

“I didn’t know I scared you,” Peter says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Tony admonishes with a half-hearted scoff. “I don’t think I’d go that far.”

“Sure,” Peter says conspiratorially. He shifts closer to the edge of the bed, closer to Tony. Tony brings an arm up to rest on top of the bed, brushing against Peter’s leg under the covers. It’s nice - the sort of grounding they both need right now. The sort of contact they’ve both been sorely missing.

“Okay, so maybe I was a little worried,” Tony concedes. “I’ve never really been one for kids, never thought I would be. But with you, I just, I don’t want you to grow up too soon. And if I know you half as well as I think I do, then I know that you won’t be hanging up that suit for a long time. Just do both of us a favour and stick to giving old ladies directions for a while, maybe? You’ve got all the time in the world for all the traumatising, hardcore stuff, I promise you.”

“So… you're saying I should skip the traumatising stuff and just stick to traumatising you instead?”

“You’re already doing a pretty damn good job of that, kid.”

---

“May’s on her way from the airport,” Peter says distractedly, later that day as he types out a reply to her text.

Tony is still by Peter’s bedside, his legs kicked up on the bed as he scrolls through his StarkPad. Peter looks up when Tony doesn’t reply. “Hey, Mister Stark?”

“Huh?”

“May’s on her way. Happy just picked her up.”

“Okay, good.”

“What’re you working on?” Peter asks, abandoning his phone as he wonders what’s got Tony so distracted.

“Just going through Rhodey’s report on the other day. Adding in the details, trying to make myself sound cooler, all that good stuff.”

Peter laughs. “Can I help?”

“Pete-”

“You said you trust me!

“Well, this is paperwork, it’s boring-”

“I want to learn! I could help!”

Tony lets out a long-winded sigh. “You really like to make me suffer, don’t you?” He turns fully towards Peter and raises his eyebrows expectantly. “So, hit me then. What’s your take on how the other day went down?”

Peter looks up towards Tony, the beginnings of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Well, I saved the day for starters, it’s really important that you put that in there.”

Tony’s face twists in conflict for a second before it smooths out again. He gives Peter a smile, tired and a little worn but genuine all the same - “yeah, yeah. Sure, kid. We’ll work it in.”

#my writing #irondad #irondad fic #the friendly neighborhood exchange #today on 'hayley doesn't know how to stick to a word limit': this fic #oops #when will i ever control myself

[bubblegum-writes]

bakugou going downstairs to see his s/o making a strawberry milkshake and when he asks why their answer is ‘it’s a healthy midnight snack’ and he just goes ‘o.o why am i dating a moron..’

A/N: bold of you to assume he wouldn’t join in after getting past the initial “you really are a dumbass holy shit” phase of the whole ordeal. also i made reader a little western lol. the character katsuki bakugou as well as boku no hero academia does not belong to me, obviously, but copyright can be a kick in the dick. 

Despite your best efforts to keep your shared apartment quiet in your endeavor for a milkshake, that simply didn’t happen. You would think the carpet in the hallway would at least somewhat muffle the sound, but alas, Katsuki awoke with a jump after hearing a generously loud thud! coming from the kitchen area. His crimson eyes narrowed in the dark, preparing to leave his bed and go absolutely apeshit on the intruder. 

He gently got up and tried his hardest to not raise awareness that he was awake to whoever decided to break in the Bakugou residence. As he closed in on the kitchen, the sound of a knife hitting a cutting board repeatedly grew louder. 

“Now who on God’s green earth broke into our fucking apartment to prepare food?” He asked himself in his head, perplexed but still very much on-edge. Getting his hands ready to explode this idiot to kingdom come, he rounded the corner with a yell.

He was met with his girlfriend, standing in one of his over-sized t-shirts, staring with wide eyes and a strawberry in her mouth. Immediately, Katsuki’s face fell with exasperation, the explosions in his hands dying. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments, until she decided to break it with a slurp! as she nearly inhaled the strawberry she just cut up.

“Howdy,” she mumbled after chewing the strawberry, “Wanna milkshake?” 

Katsuki could feel his blood pressure rising.

“Why the fuck are you up at,” he took a glance at the clock on the stove, “2:47 in the goddamned morning?” If he wasn’t so tired, his voice would probably be much louder and he would just pick her up and drag her back to bed.

“I wanted a strawberry milkshake,” she stated in a matter-of-factly manner. She resumed cutting her strawberries and swaying her body to a nonexistent song. “Ya know, a little midnight snack?” She inquired as she finished cutting her fruit and tossing them into the blender. She grabbed one of the berries before it went into the blender and casually threw it in her lovers direction. She didn’t really think that he had the reflexes of a well-tuned wild animal; he plucked the strawberry from the air, eyeballed it for a moment, before deciding to indulge himself and eat it. After swallowing, Katsuki sighed, deciding to let his girlfriend finish her snack, and then plopped himself down on one of the dining room chairs. She threw the knife and cutting board into the sink and grabbed some milk, half-n-half, and ice from the fridge. She completely eyeballed the amount she needed of each as she carelessly added each ingredient.

“Ya know,” she mused, “there are far worse snacks to have at approximately 2:50 in the morning!” She turned back to him to give him a giant smile as she pressed the button that made the blender come to life. He merely scuffed and rolled his eyes, but she didn’t miss the little tugs on his lips. Moments of little domesticity, even if he’d never admit it, always brighten Katsuki’s mood. After a shitty day of hero work, he could always come home to her. Yeah, she might be a dumbass, but she’s his dumbass. As some might say, “Pure of heart, dumb of ass.”

“I love you, but sometimes, not only are you dumb, you’re stupid.” Katsuki bluntly put it. (Y/N) chortled, the sound both amusing yet endearing to Katsuki. He leans his elbow on the table and presses his face against his fist, his eyes never leaving her body. “Also, you totally fucked up my sleep schedule with your loud-ass cutting and shit.” (Y/N) raised her eyebrow at his statement, turning her head after finally deciding her milkshake was finally done.

“How old are you, 35? What’s next, telling me to open an IRA account? Okay, dad.” (Y/N) retorted; she then scooped out her milkshake and poured it into a cute, little cup Katsuki had bought her for her birthday. She stumbled over to sit next to her boyfriend, crossing her legs before sitting them on his lap. He noticed how she had put two metal straws in her milkshake, an indirect offer to her tempting snack. After she had taken a good and long suck of the drink, she smacked her lips with a sigh of enjoyment. She put the glass on the table and slid it towards Katsuki, her eyes asking “Interested?” He took the straw in his mouth and savored the sweet treat, allowing himself to break his strict hero diet for this moment of bliss. (Y/N) found herself admiring the Greek god that was her hot-headed boyfriend, from his blonde hair to his bulging but lean muscles. Of course she loved him for more than his body, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t help that he was very easy on the eyes. 

She found her hand slowly traveling up the arm that was grasping the milkshake, her nails gently scraping his scarred skin. His eyes flashed to her face, searching for motive, and found nothing but unbridled and unrelenting love. The kind of love he would never allow himself to dream of, at least before he met (Y/N). Before, he held any sort of soft or tender emotions deep within himself. He saw them as weaknesses, things that villains or really anyone could exploit and use to take advantage of him. If he was going to be number one, he had to be perfect in every sense of the word. That meant keeping anything that made him human away from public view. Hell, even now with (Y/N) always there by his side to help and hold, he keeps most things in private. 

However, the locked chest that carried his love, his appreciation, his adoration for both her and the other lovely things in this cruel world had now been unlocked by her gentle motions. It did take a while; at the beginning, he wasn’t sure if he was capable of letting himself be that vulnerable to anyone yet. Nonetheless, he found himself without fear around her and he knew that this was home, that she was home. He came back to her eyes, and let himself be soft in that moment.

“You’re looking at me like I’m about to get blasted to the moon.” (Y/N) broke the comfortable silence with a stifled laugh, after which she scooted the milkshake back towards her. He hadn’t noticed, but his eyes must’ve focused and narrowed on his other half, perhaps giving a menacing look he hadn’t intended to give.

“I’m not gonna do that, but that doesn’t mean you're an unadulterated dumbass for waking me up to make a smoothie,” he teased as his finger wrapped around a loose strand of hair. He made a conscious effort to soften his look as their eyes met once again.

“Milkshake, not smoothie.” She finished her drink in one last sip; she felt somewhat guilty that she had most of the milkshake, but hey, she made it! She unwrapped her legs off Katsuki’s lap, then she got up and quickly washed her messy dishes. He watched her with tired eyes, grateful they can finally go back to bed. That tiredness gave him an idea. He quietly stood up from his seat and quickly strided over to (Y/N) and latched onto her waist with his arms. She jumped with a shake as she finished her cleaning, but quickly fell into his embrace. 

However, this peace did not last long.

Using not nearly all of his strength, he yanked her up into the air and effortlessly twisted her until she was in both of his arms, looking like a damsel in distress. Again, (Y/N) was thrown into a fit of shock (which was easily interpreted by Katsuki by her mildly loud screeches) then quickly calmed down as she nearly melted in his embrace. Making sure (Y/N) couldn’t see his expression, as her eyes were closed, he let his tough-man facade fall off his face like water. Slowly, the dreary couple maybe their way back to their bedroom, where they would sleep soundly due to Katsuki’s peace in life and (Y/N)’s full tummy from her delicious milkshake.

#bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #sorry you poor anon that it took so long for this lol #my writing