#i cant wait for my first read of the fic using my physical book

[bookworm-2692]

About a week ago I finally finished bookbinding @airdeari‘s beautiful Zero Escape fic The First Nonary Game. It took about a month (between all the waiting for glue to dry and also several days each week when I was unable to work on it), and was so much fun! It’s so satisfying to just... hold this book in my hands. 

Details about how I made it, along with additional photos (and commentary) below the cut.

So I came across this post on Tumblr, which immediately inspired me to try bookbinding myself. I spent a few days watching so many tutorials from the youtube channel linked in the post (I’ll link the specific tutorials I used in this post), and googling how to actually manage to print pages so they form proper signatures, because the inbuilt booklet creator in Word doesn’t exist in my Word apparently so that’s fun.

Anyway, once I started, I asked @airdeari for permission to print and bind his fic, and he immediately said yes, so that was good. Then I spent a good couple of days copying the entire fic into a Word document, and fiddling with formatting so it would look like an actual book (section breaks, page numbers, headers with the fic title on the left page and chapter title on the right page (this took ages to work and I kept on stuffing it up), and making sure things just... looked nice. I added in the art After The War that @keycrash created specifically for the fic (third pic above), and an “afterword” containing credit and links and the author’s notes from AO3 (because even if I’m the only one who will ever see it, it still feels weird to not add the credit stuff in so it’s there).

I then saved the document as a PDF, and used CheapImposter to correctly shuffle (impose, hence “imposter”) the pages so when folded into signatures, each page would be in the correct order. This program was the first free one I could find, and was great because you could specify the number of sheets you want per signature, rather than stuck with a default. I chose to have 11 signatures of 6 sheets of paper, since that was the amount that would have the least blank pages and the end of the book. The file was 261 pages, so with two pages per side, and two sides per sheet, you divide the number of pages by 4 to get 66 sheets of paper

I then printed. There was only one (1) paper jam in the process, which was great. Unfortunately, I realised after I printed that one of the headers for one chapter was wrong (I hadn’t properly disconnected the two chapters), but fortunately that only involved reprinting 4 sheets of paper.

I used the following tutorials to make the books: DIY Textblock, a general “how to make a textblock” tutorial; DIY Kettle Stitch, a specific look at the stitching for a textblock, since the first tutorial doesn’t focus on this; DIY Book Cloth, since I chose to use fabric for my cover; and DIY Hardcover Book, how to put all those pieces together.

So then I started folding all the signatures. I was watching so much Brooklyn Nine-Nine during both the folding and stitching sections, since it was repetitive actions I didn’t need to concentrate on that lasted hours.

It was at this point that I sliced each signature one by one to make the end smoother and less pointy. In future I recommend not doing it at this point - wait until the very end. Instead, move straight onto stitching. 

I don’t have any photos of the stitching portion, since my phone died the morning I started the stitching, and I wasn’t able to replace it until after all the stitching was done. In fact, originally all the photos from before the stitching were lost too. It was only about two days ago that magically the My Photo Stream thing kicked in and brought back all the photos - if it had worked two weeks earlier I would’ve had more. As it is, all photos from September to January are gone forever, unfortunately. But that’s another discussion entirely.

The above is the first book photo on my new phone, so as you can see, all the stitching was completed, the spine was glued, and the purple paper attached. I couldn’t buy two A4 sheets, so instead I had to buy one A3 sheet and cut it in half. Which was difficult cycling home from the city with an A3 sheet that didn’t fit in my bag on account of being A3 and not A4, but oh well.

I don’t have a book press, so I used a pile of DND books and my brother’s weights instead, as shown below.

I then had to re-slice the book after this point bc my first go wasn’t even, on account of slicing each signature separately. Next time definitely I’ll just do it at the end like this. I then also sanded it to make it smoother. It’s still not perfect, but it’s something that’ll take practice and patience so.

Next I made the book cloth, which involves using appliqué sheets to combine cotton fabric and tissue paper. But first I want to talk about the fabric I chose for the cover, because I’m quite proud of it. I spent ages wandering around the shop, trying to find something that fit the feel of the book. Spoilers for the content of the fic if you haven’t read it yet, and also for the source material (999/Zero Escape). I was thinking about some sort of blue swirl thing, because of the Gigantic sinking. I found that, but hesitated because it didn’t fully fit, and my favourite colour is blue so I always pick blue. I also considered flames/fire because of the incinerator thing, but couldn’t find any. I can’t remember if I just couldn’t find any four leaf clover fabric, or if I’ve just since thought about that as a cover. But instead I chose the butterflies below. They fit in several subtle ways that I’m proud of. The colours of blue and pink(/red) matching the receiver and transmitter coding all throughout 999, as well as the moments of purple as well (I don’t think I need to get into that, I’m sure it was analysed to hell and back when the game first came out). The butterflies also point towards the butterfly effect, and in turn the different timelines present in the series. So together it just works. /spoilers over

It’s also just a pretty fabric.

Now the making of the book cloth. I had to make it twice, because I was too impatient the first time, so the iron was too hot and it steamed, which wrinkled and warped the tissue paper, so the fabric was all wrinkly too. The second time took ages and was a worse quality appliqué sheet, but worked well enough anyway.

(My parents: did you have the iron out? what were you ironing? you never iron)

And then I cut the book board to size, using the measurements from the tutorial video. I’ll repeat them here: front and back cover: width = width of textblock minus 3mm, and height = height of textblock plus 6mm, and spine width = width of textblock spine, spine height = same height as covers

I then glued the board onto the book cloth, and put it under the book press. The dnd books are not large enough to cover the whole thing, and also I really wanted the board to stay flat and not curl, so I grabbed way more dnd books and way more of my brother’s weights. I also accidentally started putting the glue on the wrong side of the board (bc one side is smooth and the other is rough), hence the colour difference as well.

The corners were cut and folded and glued over...

And then the textblock was glued in, and put in my book press for a whole weekend. I added a sheet of paper to absorb the glue so the pages wouldn’t become wrinkly, but instead the sheet I added was fine and every other page in the book is wrinkly. So I dunno what happened there. After the weekend I took it out and looked at it, and then put it back for another week to be sure.

And then the complete book is shown at the top of the post!

As I was starting I was talking a lot about it, like about the process I had to go through, or how I was going to obtain what I needed, etc. Mum asked if she could read the story. I froze, like a deer in the headlights... because this is a fanfic. She saw my fear and immediately backed down, explaining she only wanted to read it because if the story was that important to me that I was going to literally turn it into a book, she wanted to read it to yknow like know me better or something? Which makes sense. And when I got over my initial reaction, and remembered that indeed it was technically my dad who introduced me to fanfic, and thought about it more, I said okay. Because since the fic is technically a prequel to the first game, and most of the characters are technically OC’s (like, from the first game we know that all eighteen children must exist, but most of them don’t have names or anything so they are effectively OC’s), then knowledge of source material isn’t strictly necessary. This fic can probably be enjoyed on its own. I mean I’ll probably have to explain the concept of morphogenetic fields, and the last four chapters might not make sense? But I’m okay for my mum to read it. So when she’s less busy at work I’m going to download the epub onto her phone for her - we’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, this fic is a masterpiece, extremely well written and I highly recommend it. As said, most of the characters are effectively OC’s, and yet they are all given such rich histories and personalities. All of them have access to the morphogenetic field, so I’m just so glad that @airdeari​ explores nine unique relationships with the field - nine unique sibling dynamics, and esper powers and abilities. It’s just so good.

#bookbinding #zero escape #999 spoilers #999 #the first nonary game #airdeari #i forgot to mention the most essential step of making the book #before i printed the pages i read the entire fic again through word #its still so beautiful #i cant wait for my first read of the fic using my physical book #if youre in the ze fandom and still have not come across this fic yet #first of all who are you and what rock have you been living under #and second of all please read this fic bc its anything and everything you could ever want from a fng fic #feel free to ask more about this and what i did btw #it was so fun binding this book #i want to do more of my fav fics now haha #this fic is 100k and it was like the perfect size for a fic to print #most of the other fics i really like are much much longer so i'd probably have to split them in half #and idk if i could do that #too much pressure to split between the right chapters #oh well uni has started so i have a while to think about which one to do next #ive already promised a version of this fic for a friend who wants to draw her own cover #so we'll see how that goes!

[staylavendertea]

music, ya know

this is a complete impulse of lying in bed middle of the night thoughts that i don’t even know if anyone’s gonna see that have been stemmed off the experiences of the past couple days, topic of 1:41 am mind boggle:

music and it’s aesthetic and importance in literal every sense cause it’s just that important to me

first experience of realizing this, i’ve always loved film scores and listening to music and the orchestral pieces from movies and shows, but it really seemed to hit me recently, like the fact that this week’s new LOKI episode, no spoilers, has the most badass score and a badass scene with such a perfect mix and musical atmosphere. i literally had one of my best friends over, who has a very small interest in comics, cinema, marvel in general, especially a show about a norse comic god that they know nothing about, and whilst they sat there for my own regard, watching the show like a normal human being would, i sat there clinching their hand, watching in awe as our music is louder than actors talking tv speakers spurted out the most spine tightening world building story and just wandered “jesus that was good” and whilst i will always think about the superior acting, cgi, the amount of different people that just went into those few scenes and like what was physical set and what was computer image and what the hell did i just watch that has my brain running olympic marathon circles right now?

the thought that said brain kept going back to was that fucking score. it was literally tearing apart of every corner of my head and why was it doing that?

second experience, another marvel one, but i digress. black widow (no spoilers i promise), thursday night, movie theater for the first time in i can’t even remember how long now and we set through so many previews just for fucking boss baby to start playing and the reaction of the theater to make me burst out laughing.

however whatever works in that little projection box, gets fixed and the movie is pushed to just a little before it starts, a nice small pepsi ad, the regal rollercoaster intro (if you go to regal movie theaters ya know what i’m talking about), and then i hear it - the marvel studios logo - something so musically engraved into my head that my ass that can’t sing for anything, can harmonize with the sound and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up around movie theater surround sound. but i can’t think of that now, i’m here to watch black widow, a movie on hiatus with the rest of the world for so long now, a character i didn’t know much about it or truly, didn’t have the most connection with in the first place. yet through that one movie, i seemed to build one of those.

ofc though scarlett johansson’s beautiful acting and world building, but it isn’t until the end of the movie that i even realize why. it was the fucking score again. when i think about it, the beginning of the movie felt like all of black widows scenes in the avengers movies for me, kinda just, there. not really emotionally tugging, not bad ofc either, but just, there. in the present, watching something cool in motion. but then it hits, what i can only describe as a theme that somehow tells the entire black widow movie in one singular composition. something so badass, story telling, but also just singularly black widow-esk. i can tell you that i walked out the movie theater rambling about the composition and looking up composers.

third experience, the most recent as it was literally like 20 minutes ago and sprung one train rail of a thought process that immediately tugged me into typing this brain vomit into a tumblr post. i have playlists. for everything. and when i say everything, i fucking mean everything. i’m a writer and a reader, i have playlists mostly for the young avengers, my most utter comfort characters, and their stories i’m writing. i also have playlists/genre/specific song for about every book i read.

when i read red white and royal blue when that came out, i noticed i listened to one of the drunks by panic at the disco the entirety of the ending of the book and the words and music fit together like puzzle pieces, not only did it make the reading experience better, but i was so fucking emerged in my over hyper-imagitive brain that when i finally actually finished the book, i still never left. rewind present day to the beginning of this past june, one last stop comes out, ofc i get it the day it comes out with my anticipation building like wildfire. i start reading that night and i put on my recents on my liked songs playlist (true to true spotify user) and i slowly over the next day as i read and finish the book, windle down to the genre, then the band, to the album, to the exact song that feels like the carbon copy of the words i’m reading. that song was only ones who know by the arctic monkeys. now go back to this past week, anyone who reads the carry on series knows, anyway the wind blows came out this past tuesday. i waited till wednesday to buy the ✨pretty special addition barnes and nobles copy✨ so that the dear friend that indulged me by watching loki that same day could buy it at the same time and make a cute book date or whateva. i started reading that night and something just felt ,,, off. i didn’t know what it was, but i was living off the pure joy that simon and co give me so i ignored the feeling. until i realized why it felt off this morning. i wasn’t listening to any fucking music, literally nothing, not even queen. motherfucking. queen.

i looked for the snowbaz playlist i made when i read carry on for the first time back in 2016/2017 when i was still a freshman in high school just to remember i deleted that literally forever ago. so i made a new one. like an hour and a half ago. very inspired on how i made the playlists for the young avengers and all their stories. letting the music talk.

the fact that all these rambling thoughts have led to this conclusion makes my head hurt, but for me at least in my own experiences. music talks. a two way conversation. a radio broadcast, turning the peg until you match the same frequency thats being put out and you can hear it and understand it. it’s like when you see comedians on stages or actors on panels, they talk, you have reactions, you talk back, and so forth the loop continues until the last voice, last note, rings out. music and songs and orchestral pieces and bands and composers and lyric writers are telling you the stories in reverse. they don’t know their doing it, obviously they meant something entirely different in their creations, but it’s like literature and any work of words and storytelling. interpretation. to me, the notes, pianos, violins, guitars, drums, singers, cellos, and anything that can make sound you can think of, is telling you something. whispering in your ear as you watch or read. facial features, emotions the characters dont say out loud, outfits, they way their standing or talking or moving or interacting with anything and everything.

when i just made that carry on playlist, i played it, decided to try read some good almost 2 am fan fic as you do, my hanging on by a thread sleep brain telling me words aren’t recognizable right now, and tighten myself into a blanket to see if i can sleep at all. the playlist still plays and my never shuts up head thinks it’s own daydreams, stresses out about anything it can, that is until the song plays. the one that just speaks the carry on trilogy language. the one that i found whilst i was reading wayward son and then would play whenever i re read carry on. the one that started this whole way too long ass post in the first place. cant be alone tonight by atlas. i heard just the first sound and i saw them, as if i were in the same room, like i never even put the book down in the first damn place because i’m actually terrified of finishing it. i could see simon in his oversized hoodies, baz in an outfit that was way too good just to be sitting inside, agatha looking as pleasantly pretty as ever, penelope poking fun at shepherd, and shepherd poking fun right back; bickering, laughing, saying the dialogues i try to remember so i can write them later, existing.

in a way music doesn’t just talk, but it lives. it lives and breaths. a three way conversation you could say. characters, stories, plot, and settings talk to the music, then the music delivers us listeners the message, so that we can send one back. this literally took me over an hour to write and i should point the important note that i do have synesthesia where colors and sounds and colors and words do the association so this entire thing might be me being entirely biased, but alas, i love sound so much and if there is anyone else that feels the same ways as i do as just a simple good film score and song makes anything ten times better, feel free to talk, i will totally be awkward, but i need some music freaks like myself around so feel free to hit me up, also if you love movies and cinema also feel free to hit me up as i need movie buddies and now it’s 3 am and i will be going to bed - peace out 🛸

#young avengers #ya #carry on #wayward son #anyway the wind blows #music #rant ? #is this rant ? #if i could make video essays this would definitely be one #music enthusiast #i love music #so gd much #loki #black widow #red white and royal blue #one last stop #queen #for bohemian rhapsody #because of course bohemian rhapsody #midnight thoughts #ramblings #composition #cinema #film score #i love movies #films #marvel

[alkhale]

Enough for Two (Tendou x Mute!Reader) Ko-fi request

So sorry but here come the waves of request that i have for you.if you cant write some it doesnt matter.I like being able to make requests but i especially want to support you. Can i get a Tendou x reader fic please?

If and when your commissions are open would you be open to writing about a Soulmates AU Reader/Satori Tendou or what ever AU/Non AU you want? If you have too much on your plate, then no worries I just really enjoy your writing!

Also found here on AO3 if it’s more convenient to read, please enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785287

---- ---- ----- -----

Sometimes people do things without reason to give themselves reason.

It’s a bit of a strange thought, but it’s really the only thing that makes sense to you in this situation right now at lease.

You watch your notebook go sailing across the hallway floor, sliding like a hockey puck until it smacks with finality against the opposite wall. You stare, still on your hands and knees from where you’d been about to pick it up and feel an incoming sigh well up in your lungs, hefty and full of power.

The sigh leaves your lips, nothing but a quiet, big gust of air. It does nothing compared to the racket of laughter filling the hall, shrill giggles that make you wonder if your own laugh sounds like that. You pray not.

In a perfect world, you imagine yourself turning your head to the trio of girls behind you—always in threes, isn’t it?—turning around to face their laughter with a disgusted frown and opening your mouth and spitting out, “ What the hell is your problem?” They’d probably turn white as ghosts and go screaming for the hills.

But the girls don’t go screaming for the hills. They continue to laugh and those words never leave your lips. They can’t, anyway, and your notebook is all the way at the other end of the hall since one of them sent it flying with a good kick. You remain there on your knees, staring after it for a long while before you turn back to the three girls.

They smile at you, bright, glossy sneers pulled over their lips.

You’re not really sure what it is but you think this is where you hypothesis comes into play—bullying doesn’t quite make sense, but at a school like Shiratorizawa where the students are rich and wonderful and have mostly met the hierarchy of needs necessary for a good life—they get bored. And when students are bored their minds wander, their hands wander, and their eyes wander too, all the way until they land on the girl who never says a word in the corner of their class they like to call a freak even though her problem isn’t freakish—it’s perfectly diagnosable.

When people get bored they sometimes need a reason to remind themselves they exist, even if there really is no reason for that at all.

“Oh, sorry,” the first one says, exactly the way they would in a drama—it’s a little amazing, actually. Maybe art imitates life more than you thought. “We didn’t see it there.”

“You shouldn’t just crawl on the floor like that,” another says. “What if someone tripped over you?”

“You look sad like that,” the last one says, pitifully. “Need some help?”

You gaze at them for a long moment, meeting their eyes in silence. They snicker, putting hands daintily over their mouths. They’re the annoying types who like to make sure their arm sleeves are folded up nice and neat so everyone can see the ink black words scrawled out on their skin, make sure it’s not hindered at all, bold and visible.

They start shooting each other looks. “Can you believe her?” they say to each other. “Look at her, oh my god. Is she for real?” and “Wow, this is so sad. We should stop.”

But they’re bored, so of course they’re not going to stop.

It’s useless, but you move your fingers anyways, aggressively shifting your hands in the air.

“ No, thanks. You can scram you pieces of shit. I’m tired of choking on your perfume. ”

It’s quite a hefty amount of words leaving your fingers. They take it as your way of feebly apologizing or saying something that fits their narrative and they giggle, turning on their heels and leaving you behind. This probably won’t be the last you see of them, not until graduation, but that’s fine.

It’s just one more year.

You wait until they disappear around the corner and finally stand up, brushing dust off your skirt and your knees. You stare at the floor for a few minutes, thinking up words and sentences in your head and using the memory of voices you like to imagine your own voice sounding just like that—telling them off and giving them a scare.

“W-What? You’re not mute? Oh my god!”

Yeah. You think, scoffing in silence at yourself. As if.

You feel a bit more resentful than usual even though this isn’t really anything new. They’ve done worse; tripping you in the halls or shoving you on their way to their desks. You’re just a picture perfect target in their pitifully cliche world to give them more meaning to their otherwise useless lives.

When you think of it in such a haughty manner, it does make you feel a bit better. Just a bit, because this still sucks.

You shake your head, reluctant to go get your notebook but knowing you need to do it anyway. You rub the etched, pale marking on your wrist for reassurance and start the long trek down the hall, keeping your eyes on the floor.

If it gets anymore annoying or anymore physical, you’ll bring it up to the teachers. You hate the thought of getting the staff involved but you’re not stupid enough to let them get bold enough to shove you down some stairs and risk your life. Who knew what the hell these pigeons were capable of? You’d just be the sad, bullied mute kid telling on the teachers but who cared?

No one.

Your stickered notebook pops up in your vision, grinning food stickers beaming back up at you. You blink, briefly terrified for a second before your head quickly snaps upwards.

His shocking red hair juts up in your field of vision first, followed by the easy, sneaky looking slant of his eyes and the almost perched little way his lips curve up into a tiny, peckish smile. Beside his face he throws up a giant peace sign with his two fingers.

“Hiyah,” he says, grinning cheekily at you. “This is yours, rrrrriiiiggghhhtt?”

He’s in your class, you realize, mind racing. Tendou, I think. He’s on the volleyball team and he sits two chairs behind you. You remember all this because you always collect the papers up at the front and see his name, messy and hurried. And he talks a lot too. He’s loud and laughs and teases people all the time in class—you watch him sometimes because you’re a bit jealous of how much he talks, how much he’s able to talk, shifting the tone of his voice in all these little creative ways, whether because he’s making fun of someone or just answering a question.

He feels like someone who really, really makes good use of his voice. Makes sure it's used, you mean. Doesn’t waste it.

You like that.

Tendou flaps the book once in front of you. You blink, quickly nodding and reaching out to take it.

He holds it up over his head, grinning down at you.

You stare up at him in disbelief, feeling your stomach sink.

Not him too. You knew he was notorious for being disliked amongst some of your peers—people tended to forget you were mute, not deaf—and he teased people however he liked. He was a generally tough nut to figure out no matter how you looked at it, but you never took him for a small time school bully either.

Disheartened, you wordlessly look up at him, frowning. Tendou continues to smile, holding your notebook over his head.

“Is that what you say to someone who helps you?” he says. “Nooooothing?”

I can’t. You mouth, pressing your hands to your mouth. I can’t. Sorry. You move your lips, exaggerating how you mouth the words. Thank you. Please give it back.

“Nope!” Tendou says. “Try again.”

He’s ridiculously tall. He really must be good at volleyball too. There’s no way you’re getting it with a measly jump. Your hand clenches into a fist at your side, your free hand twitching on instinct to sign out your words but you wordlessly try mouthing them at him again, feeling your frustration bubble up useless into your throat.

“Come on, I know you can do it,” Tendou says cheerfully. You clench your fist harder. His free hand moves sloppily in the air in front of you, waving his fingers in a lazy sort of manner that matches the easy look on his face, amused. “Try again!”

Wait a minute.

Your eyes quickly hone in on his free hand, staring at him in stunned disbelief. Tendou’s smile widens and he moves his hand again, shifting his fingers. With purpose. Not uselessly. You stare at Tendou’s hand, eyes growing round in shock. Your jaw drops and you look back at Tendou.

“Try,” Tendou signs and says, grinning like an imp, “Again!”

Your hands quickly move, “Thank you.”

Tendou drops your notebook right into yours hands, grinning. You stare, stunned and disbelieving, a part of you realizing he signs terribly—he must’ve just learned—and Tendou throws his hands behind his head with a whistle. “There ya go! You’re not so mute now, are ya!”

Your eyes shoot up to Tendou’s but he’s already turning, waving his hand at you and disappearing around the hall. “Bye bye (L/n)-chan!”

You’re still standing in the hallway like an idiot, staring at the spot where Tendou had been in disbelief.

Tendou, the loud, tall, bright red-head kid in your class, the same kid you never saw yourself ever communicating with, the same kid who was on your school’s top notch volleyball team, the same kid who made fun of people and scared others off and only hung out with his team—

Knew how to sign? A bit? Badly?

You blink, stunned.

Huh?

---- ---- -------

“Wow! This thing is practically empty!”

Your head shoots up in shock at the familiar voice, eyes going round as Tendou sits in the desk in front of you—it’s very much not his desk and you think you can see the bothered student at the front by the door, but his friends shoo him away from saying anything as Tendou continues to flip through your notebook. It’s nothing private—small questions to people or asking someone to hand you something when you couldn’t speak up or gesture. This notebook was the one you carted around to try and communicate with your classmates, hoping to start conversations and talk with them.

No one used it, so you didn’t either.

Tendou doesn’t look the slightest bit bothered, big and lanky and taking up all the space as he continues to flip through the notebook. He hums to himself, lips pursed in that funny little way of his until he gets to the empty pages.

You stare at him like some kind of exotic bird, a bit mystified by his presence.

“Say, (L/n)-chan,” Tendou says. “Isn’t this kind of sad? You even wrote Communication Notebook on this, but there’s not much communication going on, is there?”

You move your hands, signing, “ Not many people to talk to. It can’t be helped.”

Tendou’s eyes rapidly follow your hands and he squints, making a constipated face. You exhale quietly in amusement, signing again, slower, watching to see if he understands. Tendou’s face becomes unreadable and then he turns to you, lips pulled up into a massive, almost creepy grin.

“(L/n)-chan, how bold! Didya just say you like me?”

You shake your head. Tendou blows a loud horse sigh through his lips, flapping them. He’s clearly upset you didn’t make more of a show of the whole joke. Instead, you take your notebook from his willing hands and write. “Sorry. I was wondering if you knew how to sign. There aren’t many people to talk to so it can’t be helped.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Tendou says, waving a hand. “I only learned a little to get your attention anyway. Makes sense~”

You stare at Tendou, stunned by his honesty.

“Aren’t ya bored of just sitting here all quiet?” Tendou asks.

You write, “I guess.”

“Ugh. I’d get bored. I like talking, you know? It fills up the silence real nice. You know what I mean?”

“ Yes. I like it when you talk too.”

“That was supposed to be a joke. I was kinda making fun of you. (L/n)-chan are ya not good at picking up jokes too? Or are you just flirting with me?”

“No. It’s just how I feel.”

“Haha, okay, you weirdo! Why don’t you teach me some more sign language then, hmm? I bet you’ll get awful tired writing in that all day and I’m a pretty quick study~”

You stare at Tendou, lowering your book and frowning at him. Tendou continues to grin, his little perched lip look, sneaky and unassuming as he waggles his brows at you. You sort of understand why your classmates call him creepy, but it’s mostly from his heights and mannerisms more than anything else. Otherwise, Tendou Satori is just… another teenage boy.

You pinch your fingers together into an okay sign, still marveling at the strange creature in front of you.

Tendou’s eyes drift absently to the pale mark on your wrist and he grins, holding up his fingers in a peace sign, using it like scissors to cut your okay sign in half.

You stare at him.

“Sheesh, can’t get any reaction out of you, can I? What a tough crowd!”

--- --- --- ---- ----

This is the first time you’ve ever had class with Tendou. It’s your first time properly “talking” to him too. You know him from the announcements, from the rumours that spread here and there about his unsettling ways and most importantly, you see him on the screens when your school calls the students together to watch the boys’ volleyball team dominate Sendai’s qualifiers all over again.

Outside of staring at him from time to time and appreciating the way he talks, that day two weeks ago now in the hallway is still the first time the two of you have ever properly interacted. The day after that he approached you in class and now everyday since—Tendou talks to you.

And he talks a lot too.

Between classes he talks to you, sidling up with his lanky, swaying body like some kind of cowboy from a foreign western. He perches over and sprawls across your desk like the two of you have been friends for years, talking about school, about class, about your classmates even or this and that, but he mostly talks about you, anime, or volleyball.

He walks you between classes since the two of you mostly share each one and he stands or crouches by your desk, talking and talking while you frantically scribble or take a few minutes each class period to try to teach him new phrases and words. He didn’t lie about being a quick study, but he’s still sloppy so it’s funny to watch.

This whole thing is a bit bewildering, to be honest. You don’t know what prompted Tendou Satori to start talking to you and make such an emblazoned effort, but maybe it’s for something similar to why those three girls like to pick on you. For no real reason at all.

You don’t really mind it, to be honest. Reason or not—he’s an entirely welcome presence, jokes, teasing, and strangeness—all of it.

“Did you like this week’s Jump ?”

“Yes,” you sign and then switch to writing. “The new chapter for Chainsaw Man was good. It made me sad though.”

“Wow, wow, (L/n)-chan you like the gorey stuff, huh?” Tendou muses, tapping your book. “Scary! I thought you’d like We Never Learn better or one of the other ones.”

“ Act-Age is good,” you write. “I’m invested. Which one do you follow? ”

“The classics! One Piece! My Hero! All the typical, easy to understand, not too complicated—I’m just kidding, don’t you think Denji’s an idiot?”

“ Yes, but I like him too. ”

“(L/n)-chan, don’t tell me that’s your type of guy,” Tendou gasps, looking scandalized. “Uneducated perverts?”

“ No, ” you sign and then write, “ I like guys that seem hard to understand but aren’t.”

“Ugh, that sounds like a headache!” Tendou flops entirely onto your desk and you raise your notebook to write. “I can only talk about Jump with you, Wakatoshi said he won’t read it until the end of the season for us! Can you believe him?”

“Yes. ”

“Traitor! (L/n)-chan, you beautiful traitor~ How cruel~”

You turn your notebook over so Tendou can read it. He squints up at you.

“Not that I mind, but Tendou, is there a reason why you started talking to me?”

“The golden question!” Tendou shouts, not even trying to sit up. You move your notebook so you can see his face and Tendou just grins back up at you, looking satisfied. “Does there have to be one?”

You shake your head. Tendou hums, content. “Perfect! We’re on the same page then.”

Tendou nearly cracks the spine of his Jump that he leant to you, opening up the pages and holding it over both of your heads. You have to weasel awkwardly under his arm and crane your head to look up at what he’s looking at too, faces side by side and Tendou grins. “Now, what did you think about Promised Neverland’s finale?”

-- ---- ---- ---- ----- ----

You stare at your empty shoe locker in silence, frowning at the sight of it.

The shoes that were supposed to be there no longer are. You stare at it for a moment longer, glancing down to your school slippers and then silently turning over to the trashcan a few feet away. You gaze at it for a long time before walking over to it with your head held high, ignoring the outburst of giggles and feigned gasps of disgust as you come to stand in front of it.

You tuck your notebook into your bag, lifting the lid of the bin up. Some students look over in confusion and several make faces as you roll up your sleeves, spotting your shoes under a heap of lunch trash and papers. The snickers and giggles grow louder and louder, a waste of the sound you wish you could emit yourself.

“ Flying super Satori kiiiiiiiiick! ”

A long leg snaps into view before a foot promptly smashes into the trash bin, knocking it sideways and spilling trash into the shoe locker entryway. Students jump aside, shouting in disgust while you gape in disbelief, staring at the pile of trash before your head snaps over to the criminal, eyes bulging.

Tendou stays crouched on the floor, sticking his tongue out and throwing you a peace sign from where he sort of crab walks beside you like some kind of creep, uncaring in how the other students gape at him like an alien. “How was that? Pretty cool, right? Ten points?”

You stare at Tendou, mouth slack.

His hands swipe out and he snatches your dirty shoes, shooting up to his full height and nearly forcing you to jump back in surprise. He grins at you, wiggling his brows before he grandly turns on his heels, your shoes in one hand while he loudly shouts with the other, “Oh, my goodness! Who made this mess? Someone better clean it up before a teacher comes!”

“Hey!”

“Tendou, what the heck you crazy bastard? You’re the one who knocked it—”

“Sorry,” Tendou shouts in horrible English. “I don’t speak Japanese!”

“Tendou—”

Tendou snatches your hand with his free one, breaking out into a gleeful sprint. You hurry to keep up after his long, lunging legs, practically huffing in exertion while Tendou holds your dirty shoes and he tosses his head back and laughs and you stare at him in disbelief, throat constricting tightly as you leave the other students and noise behind.

The evening glow turns his hair fiery and redder. Tendou’s laugh seems almost insane and infectious at the same time. It makes you feel a little hysterical, chest growing tighter. You can’t hear anything else but your own pants and his racket of laughter.

He runs with you in tow all the way to the volleyball gym, right where the two of you normally part ways and he goes to practice and you go home.

Tendou tosses your shoes into the nearby watering sink with a flourish, twirling on his heel like he’s dancing for you and moving his lanky body in all sorts of funny ways before he tosses the spout on and watches the water pour over your shoes, humming.

You stare at his broad back. You stare at it for what feels like an eternity, panting heavily, shoulders and legs trembling because you don’t do sports like this monster of a young man in front of you. Tendou turns the water off and turns to you with a peckish grin, twirling a bandaged finger. “Out of breath already? You should get into better shape, (L/n)-chan!”

Tendou fishes your soaking shoes out from the trough, gives it a quick inspection before nodding, flapping them out with one hand while he casually continues speaking, “You know, now that I think about it, the name was a bit cheesy. Maybe something like, Flying Kick of Justice or maybe—”

You quietly hold your arms out in front of you, spreading them a bit. Tendou arches a brow, looking at you with his little impish smile.

You take a few meaningful steps forward. Tendou doesn’t move, staying still until your face collides with his chest and you wrap your arms around him. Tendou just continues to smile, looking amused while you raise your hands and sign above your head at him.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, (L/n)-chan,” Tendou sighs, but he throws one arm around you anyway, patting your head. “You’re so awkward. Lucky for you, I’m great at dealing with verbally stunted people. My best friend hardly speaks a word after all!”

The door to the volleyball gym slides open, revealing none other than the superstar himself—Ushijima Wakatoshi. Tendou blinks and you look over at the volleyball legend, blinking as well.

“Tendou,” Ushijima says. “Practice in two minutes.”

Without another word the door slides back shut. You stare at it while Tendou breaks out into laughter. “See! What did I tell you?”

--- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---

It’s three months into this—hanging out, getting to know each other, learning, communicating, becoming friends with Tendou Satori that you first notice.

You hadn’t meant to look in the first place since you didn’t think about soulmates and what-not often, but it just happened when Tendou was playing with your hair, trying to arrange it into a set of funky looking braids and you’d caught a glimpse at both his wrists.

You reach out, grabbing both of them in surprise. Tendou blinks over the top of your head, sitting cross-legged on your bed— “(L/n)-chan, invite me over! Let’s play some video games or read manga!” and he lets you pull his arms closer, quickly inspecting his wrists.

You blink rapidly, a little stunned. You look again and again to make sure what you were seeing wasn’t wrong and Tendou hums in amusement above you, letting you finish up until you finally look back at him, hands moving to sign, quick and clear.

“Tendou, you…” you pause, unable to finish moving your fingers.

“It’s blank! You’re not crazy, don’t worry,” Tendou says, finishing it for you. He proudly shows off his bare wrists and you stare at them a second longer before looking back to his face, brows creasing in worry. “Aw, don’t make that face, (L/n)-chan, you’ll get wrinkles!”

You know it’s possible, people not getting marks. Most people are all born with them—the first words your soulmate is supposed to say to you tattooed in simple ink onto your skin, always on your wrists, right there for anyone to see.

Tendou’s wrist are bare of any mark, not a single piece of ink in sight.

“I think you know better than anyone,” Tendou teases above you. “Words aren’t everything to a relationship, right~”

You smile at Tendou, but your chest still aches a little bit. Tendou’s strange, but he’s funny. He’s funny and kind. Very, very kind, even if he likes to act like he isn’t or seem worse than he really is. He deserves someone kind too, even if the statistics for actually meeting your soulmate are low.

You show Tendou your mark, a simple black V and nothing more. He stares at it, looking bewildered for once himself while you simply shrug back at him, holding up two fingers like a peace sign but as a V instead.

Tendou suddenly bursts into laughter. You stare at him, pouting in silence while he clutches his stomach, rolling around on your bed and wheezing.

“Well, (L/n)-chan, how about this,” Tendou says once his laughter dies down. “If you don’t like them, how about I take their place, hmm?”

You pretend to think it over for a bit. Tendou nudges your head with his foot and you swat it aside, turning over to him and pinching your fingers together in an okay sign.

“You’re so boring! Have more of a reaction, why don’t you? You know how hard I’m trying here?”

You smile at Tendou, chest full.

---- ---- ----- ----

Maybe it’s not always that people do things for no reason to find a reason themselves.

Maybe these people just aren’t reasonable to begin with.

“Guys, look at how creepy this is! She’s writing all over it like she’s talking to herself—yikes!”

You stare at the three tormentors, frozen in place for a moment as you watch them flip through your notebook, fuller then it’s ever been. You watch them, second after second ticking as they laugh and point to the stacked conversations, the doodles and jokes and the pages stuffed full of proof that you and Tendou have built something, something dearly precious over the course of this year—

Two of them look at you and laugh, watching you at the entrance of the classroom. The last one holds up your notebook, her glossy lips moving, and then her perfectly manicured nails start ripping one of the pages.

It’s Tendou’s page. It’s terribly unlucky or lucky she picked that one. He’s written all over it, trying to be quiet that day.

“(L/n)-chan do ya get sick of me talking? People say I talk too much all the time.”

“No. I like it.”

“Aw, you’re just flirting!”

“No, I really, really like it.”

“Hahaha, then maybe I’ll talk enough for the two of us, hmm?”

You feel it tear all the way down to your bones.

“What a freak!”

Something snaps.

They clearly don’t see it coming when you go flying across the classroom, lunging for the monster with your notebook. Her eyes go round in disbelief and then furious anger when your hands find hers, ripping the book from her grasp as she fights you for it, shouting and cursing. Her two cronies are quick, grabbing at your hands and trying to haul you back but your mouth is parted in a soundless, furious scream, flailing your fists and hitting, pulling and tugging at them as you scream and scream and scream even though no words come out.

One girl nearly slaps you but you duck and shove your foot into her stomach, knocking her back into a desk.

You shout at them. Shout and shout and shout and shout . You imagine the words cutting them in half. Imagine how they’d feel hearing the horrible things spat right back into their face—

She looks up at you, eyes red with rage and the other two thrust your hands down, stomping on your feet to try and hold you down while she raises her hand to strike again.

“All three of you are ugly pigs! Don’t you have anything better to do with your lives? Did all your parents ever teach you to do is bully the quiet kid? That’s terrible! You’re all horrible!”

The shrill, overly high-pitched voice catches all four of you off guard, staring at each other, stunned. The three girls share quick looks, looking startled out of their minds while your shoulders heave, ragged from the panting and soundless screaming. You don’t understand—

Firm, large hands suddenly grab you by your waist, hauling you up into the air and away from the other two girls. You quickly grab your skirt from flying up and whirl around, eyes round in disbelief when Tendou’s sleazy, easy grin meets your gaze, his eyes crinkled.

Your already quiet world quiets further, soft and silent as you stare at him and he gazes back at you for a second, assessing your disheveled form before he promptly sets you down onto your feet behind him like you’re some kind of toy. Tendou even takes a second to brush some dust off your shoulder, fixing your jacket with a happy little hum before he ruffles the top of your head and grins at you.

His eyes are crinkled at the corners, narrowed into dangerous slits. You freeze.

“Don’t worry,” Tendou chirps. “I’ll speak for both of us~”

He turns around with a flourish, blocking your view of the three girls and holding his hands out. “Sorry, ladies! I know you all might want a piece of her, but as her manager, I’ve got to be her translator and I believe my client says—oh, yes, yes, I hear you loud and clear! She says you’re all a bunch of useless bimbos with too much time on their hands!”

You gape at Tendou, clasping your hands over your mouth even though no words come out. The three girls look stunned and Tendou sweeps on in his fake, shrill voice, “Your perfume smells cheap and your nails are so last season—wow! Did you get enough sleep? Your pores are huge!”

“Asshole!” a girl shouts.

“Tendou, you freak!”

“Tendou, what do you think you’re—” one girl starts but Tendou thrusts a finger out, pointing it right at her face.

“And now this one’s from me! ” Tendou says in his own voice, a little huskier than you remember, a little firmer, clearer, and he grins devilishly at the three girls. “So listen up, hmm?”

Your classmates always complain if there’s anything about Tendou, it’s that he tends to come off as a bit scary sometimes.

You’d never really thought so until now.

“Find something better to do,” Tendou says cheerfully, eyes narrowed into dagger thin slits as he brings one threatening hand up into the air. He smiles, dripping malice, “Or you’re going to regret it, okay?”

One girl swallows, looking ready to argue despite her ashen face. The other two grab her hands, furiously shaking their heads as they drag her away from the two of you, shooting you and Tendou glares. “Freaks! Both of you!”

They run anyway though when Tendou arches a dangerous brow at them, tails between their legs. You stare at the empty classroom door in disbelief, not quite able to wrap your head around the entire exchange or how all of this happened in so little time—

“Hmph, they can’t appreciate art when they see it,” Tendou complains loudly, dragging your attention back to him. He picks up your fallen notebook, flipping through the pages and idly smoothing out creases. “Girls like that are never going to get a boyfriend, don’t worry, (L/n)-chan. You’re much cuter than they are~”

Tendou.

There’s something loud pounding in your head. Maybe it’s your heart. You’re not really sure what it is in the quietness of it all as Tendou calmly turns to you, holding out your notebook.

Tendou.

Your fingers twitch. You feel your fingers moving, spelling out his name. Your mouth parts, breathing.

Tendou, thank —

He brings up one hand, winking at you in an expression that doesn’t fit his face at all while he throws up a peace sign, the same one he always does, just like when the two of you first met.

“Our victory this time~ If they try it again, I’m not afraid to block them! I’ve got a mean—”

You freeze.

Victory?

You stare at Tendou’s peace sign.

V.

Your brain short circuits for a second. Something like adrenaline starts to pump rapidly through your body and you gape in disbelief, turning your wrist around and staring at the large, bold V on your skin. Your parents always joked with you about the kind of situation you’d have to be in for the first word your soulmate ever said to you to be V , but what if it wasn’t a matter of saying it but—

Signing it?

You feel your heart almost stop. It kicks back into gear, loud like a set of drums. You quickly grab Tendou’s blank wrist, surprising him as he blinks curiously down at you. “Hmm? What’s gotten into you, (L/n)-chan—”

“Tendou!” you sign, cheeks flushing. “Tendou, this might sound crazy but—”

You grab your notebook, quickly flipping to a blank page and hurriedly writing onto it. Tendou blinks, looking playfully confused until you turn your page to him.

“I think we might be soulmates!”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. Tendou stares at your page for what feels like eternity before he pushes it down with one long, bandaged finger. He grins at you over the top of your notebook, waggling his brows.

“(Y/n)-chan, are you trying to ask me out? You could’ve just said so~”

You toss your notebook to the desk, lunging at Tendou with your arms thrown wide, mouth parted in a soundless, desperate laugh and Tendou simply grins in that sneaky little way of his, looking as content as a cat as he wraps his arms around you anyway and hoists you up.

“Ara, was I found out?”

In your flurry you abruptly press your lips to Tendou's unable to contain your excitement or words, hands no longer enough. Tendou goes stiff, eyes round as saucers when you pull back and stare at him, beaming brightly and quickly signing. "You're so dumb!"

The top of Tendou's ears start to turn red. You stare at him in surprise, pressing a hand to your mouth.

"Tendou,"  you sign. "You're so honest."

"Bzzt! Wrong answer! Better kiss me again or I'll drop you."

Without hesitating you quickly duck your head in close and this time Tendou meets you have way with his cheeky grin, both your lips molding together in a kiss that floods with laughter, even though not a single sound escapes either of you.

----------

"I never said I didn't have one. My soulmate just doesn't have much to say~"

------------

Bonus:

- Tendou gives you a whistle for when you go to his games. He always waits and then when his team scores or he blocks, a furious sound of tweets and whistles goes off, making everyone look up into the stands to find you, crazy-looking and furious waving your hands and blowing the whistle. Someone has to ask you to stop before it confuses the players. - Tendou collapses onto the floor, laughing so hard he starts to cry and Ushijima tells him he should give you a bell instead. "Bells are also soothing," he says. "Or a drum."

**** please don’t ever make fun of someone’s pores! I think I’d cry ;-;

#haikyuu #haikyuu reader insert #tendou satori #tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #ko-fi requests #this ended up being more wholesome than i expected #but who cares #pls accept my meager offerings

[fanfictrashdump]

Universe in a Jar, 7 - Phase 4 fic

Recap: Some days ago, I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and, I wrote Universe in a Jar.

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, Wong, OC

Rating: T?

Warnings: Language! Mentions of sexual encounters, sarcasm, terrible storytelling, and typos prob.

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could… he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

Previous Chapter

WARNINGS: Language, terrible circumstances, and a–

XX

Physically cleaning up the farmhouse after the fight had taken no more than a half-hearted wave of Loki's hands. Mentally cleaning up whatever had annoyed Wanda into snapping and subsequently opening the door without checking who was outside was another matter, altogether. Persephone quietly warned a steely-eyed Stephen to take a break before having a chat with the witch. Wanda could honestly destroy him in a heartbeat and if he burst into her room, guns blazing, like he was poised to do, there would be another tragedy happening.

Stephen had left Seph with Loki, in the living room. The millenia plus-old god had snuck in under her and was idly scratching at her scalp while minimally disturbing her glorious abundance of curls. He couldn't help but smirk at the extremely careful circles Loki was making on her head, evidence that he had once tried to card his fingers through her tresses and she, most likely, nearly eviscerated him. A song-song Be Nice from Loki was the last he had heard before a tense, overdrawn, and long-time coming conversation with Wanda. Now, several hours later, the only thing that remained of the pair was the book that Loki had been paging through while he doted on Persephone.

He moved himself outside through the kitchen door, walking around the side of the house towards the tell-tale creak of the banquet seat swing on the wraparound porch.

"Over here."

Seph's voice called out just as the door slammed shut in his wake, his foot just shy of stomping onto the first step to climb the porch. He smiled to himself, dandelion fluff blowing across his face on the light afternoon breeze while his brain pulled him back to days where they would sit on this very porch, talking for hours until one of them was ultimately called home. Most of all, he felt the old disappointment of reluctantly dragging himself away and the tingly expectation of what may happen tomorrow.

He found her rocking gently to-and-fro on the swing, alone.

"Where's Loki?"

Seph tilted her head curiously. "Greenhouse. Need to do damage control?"

"No. I just had questions for him," he retorted, sinking into the seat she patted in invitation. "Are you alright? Light-headed? Sluggish?"

"Nah. I think Loki did something to help the exhaustion along." They swung in silence for a long while before Seph found her voice again. "Who were those people, Stephen?"

"Time Variance Authority," he said, simply, before adding. "Time police."

The little notch of worry between her brows deepened. "I thought you were the time police."

"I protect reality–"

"But you manipulate time for it. You literally wear an all-powerful stone called the Time Stone."

Stephen started his response several times over before groaning. "OK, you're not wrong."

"How'd Loki get stuck with them? They don't seem his style."

"That's a long story that maybe you should get straight from the source, Peep. It wasn't an easy trip for him and… well, we're seeing the aftershocks."

Unsatisfied with that answer, she pushed further, ever the inquisitive mind. "Is he OK? Why were they fighting him if they had worked with him?"

He sighed, leaning his head back against the backrest, eyes closing as the soft movement lulled him into a sense of calm. "These weren't the exact people he worked with. Multiple Universes are now stacked onto each other in parallel, even if they weren't supposed to exist. They sometimes bleed into each other."

"Multiverse convergence."

Stephen straightened, turning his head to look at Seph curiously, just now noticing the daisies pinned behind her ear. "Yeah." He raised an eyebrow. "You've actually been reading what Wong gave you."

"Some of us actually did the homework. Not just popped into ghost mode to do it," she teased, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. She was rewarded with a generous roll of his eyes.

"I've told you, it's called–"

She interrupted him again, holding her hand up to quiet him. "Don't care, bud. Ghost mode."

He resorted to laughing quietly and leaning into her side, letting out a soft sigh when her fingers sunk into the hair at the back of his head and twisted the strands between her fingers. "I could teach you."

Persephone giggled, turning her head to press a kiss to his forehead. "That would require me listening to you, and I don't think that is a realistic expectation," she teased, voice soft. "But I'll give it a little thought."

"Thank you." He stopped to peck her cheek on his way to straightening up. "Check on Wanda for me?"

Seph nodded. "Going to see Loki?"

Stephen gave her a nod of his own before hopping off the swing with a groan. He held it steady long enough for Seph to climb down after him. After a squeeze of her hand in his, he retraced his steps back off the porch and dove into the endless rows of corn as a shortcut to the greenhouse. Any person who did not grow up in this kind of life would immediately get claustrophobic swimming in the emerald stalks, waiting for a glimpse of light to signal an exit. As a kid, he had gotten lost in the cornfields as often as he breathed, but as he grew, he developed a sixth sense, and it became harder to lose his way. Not unless he was intending on it.

Adjusting to the sudden sunlight after the trek through the dappled green glow made him pause, but it was the punch to the gut that really threw him for a loop. Instinct kicked in, immediately. He drew the sling ring out of his pocket, jumping into position to defend himself. His eyes, still swimming in the bright light, barely caught a glimpse of the world before it went black.

When he came to, the smell of damp and the ringing in his ears made him want to double over and throw up. Of course, it was hard to do that while also tied to a chair, but he hadn't paid any  mind to that part. He never did like going down to his parents' basement.

Wait.

His parents' basement.

"Stephen! Stephen!"

Through the fog in his head, the Sorcerer could barely make out Loki's voice hissing at him through the darkness. With a strangled groan and a painfully drawn breath, he shifted his head to look beside him. Loki was similarly tied down, a collar with a red light wrapped around his neck that looked just shy of choking him. The god of mischief gave a sigh of relief to see the other's eyes opened and seemingly focused on him.

"Thank the Norns. Stephen, are you alright?"

"I think so. Someone attacked me in the corn field–"

Loki was quick to cut in. "Yes, it was a TVA agent. I guess they fell back during the attack, but Strange, listen to me. I managed to slip your ring into your back pocket while she was struggling with you. You need to get it on and get us out of here. She collared me, but you can still do magic." His face turned serious, and something in his eyes that seemed to Stephen very close to regret–or pity–overtook him. There was a sadness permeating Loki now, and his voice was quiet and soft when he spoke next. "Stephen, the agent that attacked you–you cannot let your emotions get the best of you, alright?" His eyes darted back towards the stairs, though Stephen's head was protesting any movement and did not follow. "Regardless of what you think, she–"

Stephen gasped as the room tilted. One second he was staring at Loki, the next his eyes were fixed on a shiny black boot that had canted his chair back onto two legs. He followed the regulation TVA uniform up, up, up towards whoever had assaulted him, only for his breath to catch in his throat and his jaw slacken.

"Donna…?"

The face of his precious younger sister, his shadow growing up, the person he had most adored and who had been dead for most of his life, stared down her nose at him. In one hand, a bully stick remained poised to strike. Even though it was inactivated it could still pack a wallop, if the pain in his ribs was any indication. Her mouth was twisted into a scowl and her other hand held a fistful of his shirt, which she used to shake him when he became lost in thought. Though her shoulder was marked as Hunter D-17, there was no doubt in Stephen's mind, from the freckle on her left temple to the multicolored eyes that matched his own, that this was his sister.

"You." Her voice snarled much the same as when she caught him reading her diary. "You're going to tell me who the fuck you are and why my face is all over this house. Understood?"

#mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel phase 4 #marvel phase four #doctor strange #stephen strange #wanda maximoff #wong mcu #loki mcu #original character #multiverse #multiverse convergence #TVA #donna strange #universe in a jar

[1-800-i-ship-it]

khun modern bf headcanons?

Hmm oof i am probably not the best person to be asking this cause I dont write fics or anything but I’ll do my best

So i realized that i just wrote plot stuff but im posting anyway cause i spent way too long on this ahaha 

apologies in advance for typos that I'm too lazy to go through and correct

Enjoy the headcanons that i wrote later + plots that i originally wrote and went on a long tangent on oops

Headcanons:

Khun would be that subtle overprotective boyfriend 

He’d just kinda silently watch from afar but he’d totally kill anybody who hurt bam in any way, shape, or form

But he’d like be SUPER sweet with bam like

Pet names yall PET NAMES like khun and bam would prob both mutually melt when they call each other pet names

Khun would always help bam with hw and whatnot, let’s pretend bam’s a physics genius cause thats just how i imagine him in modern life, always has trouble with law class (he’s  taking it just for khun so he can understand what khun’s talking about) so khun helps him

Khun would be a super smooth talker, can woo a n y b o d y, exceptional at speeches, captain of speech and debate team

Khun would never admit he’s jealous but like the whole gang would know (except for bam who’s clueless as usual) 

Like bam is friendly with everybody so khun’d just be like ugh screw yall 

But then bam always confides in him and spends a crapload amt of time with him so he knows he’s just doubting himself and he’s mad at himself about it cause he knows bam is loyal to a fault and would never betray him

When bam gets older bam uses this against him hehe

Khun would also be that bf that everyones jealous of 

Everyone would want to be with khun but he only has eyes for bam

Ignores everybody else who hits on him

Side note i still stan top!bam and bottom!khun 

Khun would also be super thoughtful and goes out of his way to help make bam’s life easier whether its doing chores or smth etc, and each time bam smiles at him and expresses his gratitude khun’s heart would melt for the 1000th time

But like secretly khun really likes confident and sexy bam

They’d probably roleplay ngl (let ur imagination wonder~)

Khun would enjoy just spending time with bam :’) just cuddling and doing mundane things, they’d be super adorable together, hugs and kisses and ah just too cute-

Khun secretly likes bdsm and bam knows this 😏they switch roles from time to time, i cant decide who’s sub/dom

Khun would plan a super elaborate proposal to bam but then somehow bam would catch him off guard and then khun would just blurt it out when they’re together <3

Khun’d always be up early to cook for bam, they both morning ppl tho khun’s always sleep deprived bc hes also a night owl 

Khun is shy with pda in public but eventually he and bam decide they dont care anymore and just hold hands and act all lovey dovey to the point where shibisu cant decide if he’s a proud dad or if he wants to throw up, rak is always proud of his turtles, endorsi and hatz literally want to throw up all the time and would die before admitting that they secretly approve of khunbam

Khun is all around a model bf that i am sure half the fandom would be willing to date but im sorry guys khun’s taken cause he’s only got eyes for bam~

Plot things/idk what they’re called:

CEO!khun and intern!bam

Assassin!khun and assassin!bam who eventually get together and destroy the corrupt system

Gdi i thought of so many while having dinner but i forgot

Hmmmm

Imagine bam as jue viole grace like forced to work in a gang or smth and then khun as the gang boss 

I totally dont have a thing for badass assassin themed things pls dont judge me

Teacher!khun and student!bam (ofc it’d be near graduation if u get my drift...😏)

Idk why i thought of this but imagine idol khun o.o wait YO idol khun + assistant bam

Tutor!khun and student!bam 

I feel like im literally just saying the same ideas

Theres a reason why im not a fic writer :’)

High school sweethearts -> angst bc parents dont approve, sad forced breakup, no contact -> get back together when older after a time-lapse when they’re more mature, heated reunion 

Best friends bam and khun since preschool, since they were in the womb, PINING, both of them scared to admit it cause they dont want to ruin their friendship, meanwhile the entire gang is betting on them getting together (aka mainly rak and shibisu betting, hatz, endorsi, anaak, (insert s2 and s3 gang dont wanna spoil) everybody etc)

Uni students with khun as a law major and bam as a cs major (both geniuses, nerd bam), roommates *insert smirk* lots of pining, blushes from them casually changing in front of each other...the rest is up to ur imagination

Khun and bam as rival sports teams coaches 

Age gap!khunbam (not a lot, somewhere between 5-8 yrs), with bam as the younger one who kept saying that he loves khun but khun just laughs it off bc bams a kid but then khun sees bam after he comes back from college and bam gets a massive glowup from clueless cinnamon roll to clueless cinnamon roll hottie who only has the hots for khun (still) and then khuns all like “fuck” *dies inside*

Single dad khun, bam as a daycare employee who keeps getting flustered by khun, khun takes interest in bam bc he doesn’t ask nosy questions like other ppl, and bam has these mesmerizing golden eyes

Tailor/dry cleaner owner!bam and office worker!khun who constantly needs his clothes to be altered so they fit exactly how he wants them to (this eventually results in awkward moments and blushing), and also dry cleans like his countless number of suits and dress shirts and whatnot

Author!khun and publishing assistant!bam (is it even called publishing assistant honestly i have no idea but u get what i mean right), khun never signs books but bam convinces him to 

Poet!khun and uni student!bam as a literature major who’s a big fan and wanted to meet khun at one of his signings but is too shy even though shibisu drags him there, accidentally bumps into khun in the bathroom, is all flustered, ends up talking to khun for super long, khun loves bam’s enthusiasm for the subject, offers to give feedback on bam’s poems, bam is literally about to combust, they have lots of meetings and khun flirts with bam who’s clueless but blushes a lot anyway, they kiss *ahem* the rest is history

Spy!khun and bam, khun realizing he doesn’t want to hurt bam, sends fake info back to his country (ruled by eduan and jahad), eduan finds out (sent khun out in the first place bc khun was a threat to him cause the ppl liked khun better), sends out an assassin to get khun, who knows this and escapes with bam somewhere, some complicated plot taht idk how to figure out but you get the drift, eventually khun rules the country with bam

Real estate agent khun and contractor bam, eventually start their own business together

Khun as student pres, also known as the ice king bc he’s turned down dating everyone who asked, bam as the transfer student who catches his attention  (bam with more of a jue viole grace complex), the silent physics genius who is also on par with khun when debating in speech and debate club 

Khun and bam as besties, always do their hw together and hang out after class (cause bam always needs help haha), something leads to them fake dating, eventually real dating 😏

Khun and bam as besties, always do their hw together and hang out after class (cause bam always needs help haha), someone (rachel, DO NOT KILL ME I HAVE A REASON) asks bam out and he doesn't know how to say no (the rest of the gang egging him to date cause they know khuns gonna be jelly) khun goes and sulks, eventually bam gets hurt and manipulated by her, khun is pissed off, rachel is reported for abuse, khun and the gang fight for bam, khun is there for bam all the time, after a while bam asks khun out of the blue if khun likes him (shibisu let it slip that khun is gay bc god knows bam is oblivious af), khun is shocked but says yes bc he cant hide it anymore, bam says he always loved khun but thought khun was straight (bc of some dumb rumor someone said) which was why he ignored his feelings and agreed to date rachel bc he just wanted to distract himself, lots of cuddling thereafter, they get together, rak wins the bet for when khunbam will get together, khunbam gets married

oh man that became way longer than i expected...anon i hope u enjoyed that? half of it prob made 0 sense ngl and idek if i answered the q properly?

kudos to you if you actually read like all my rambling :’)

#bluris answers asks #1800ishipit answers asks #khun headcanons #khun the modern bf #i always write way too much oops #idk what im doing #if you really read till here bless ur heart #headcanons #plot things

[im-a-star-boy]

Charity Gala

Another parksborn fic!!! Yes I know I need a new fandom!!! Will I search for one? Absolutely not!!!!!

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Summary: Peter Parker-Stark, the adopted son of Tony Stark, is brought to his first Charity Galaand he doesn’t enjoy it. But things manage to take a turn for the better when he meets another boy, named Harry.

Word Count: 8,446

Date Of Completion: Thursday, January 9th, 2020 (First fic of the New Decade my guys!!!)

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Peter tightened the tie around his neck. “Is this really necessary, Dad?” He called from the bathroom. 

Tony Stark stepped into the bathroom and scoffed at the sloppy bowtie, before stepping over to straighten. “Yes, it is Pete. I know it sucks, but we gotta keep up appearances and you,” He emphasized by tapping his nose lightly, “need the experience.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen galas before though, Dad! They’re really boring.”

“You’ve seen them but you’ve never been to one.” He chided lightly before stepping back. 

He analyzed his handiwork on the bowtie before smiling in satisfaction. “Trust me kid, it isn’t that bad.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

It was that bad. It was so definitely that bad. All the smells, sounds, and sights collided at once, giving Peter a massive headache. Pepper had noticed his suffering and had guided him over to the bar and ordered him an iced lemon water. He had very much appreciated it as he laid back and watched the party continue. There wasn’t much going on, just investors talking to one another. After a moment, a young man approached him. He may have been young, but he was in his late 20’s at best. “Hello there young man, you’re Tony Stark’s kid, right?” He greeted happily.

Peter internally cringed before nodding. “Uhh, yeah? Who’re you?” 

The man perked up. “I’m Gaige Thomas, I’m with Perkinson’s, we were hoping to speak to your father if-”

“I don’t know where my dad is. If you wanna talk to him, go find him yourself.” Peter muttered, turning away from him.

“Excuse me?” He forcefully turned Peter’s chair around. “You need to-”

“Hey, screw off!” An unfamiliar voice snapped.

Peter looked up to see a somewhat familiar figure. It was a young boy, around his age. He was tall, black haired, blue eyed, somewhat muscular, definitely good looking. Peter watched as the boy stood in front of him, staring dangerously at Mr. Thomas. The man hesitated before scowling and turned around and walked away. “You okay?” The boy asked, turning to him. 

Peter felt his face flush slightly, before he nodded. “Um, yeah. Yeah I’m- I’m okay. Are- are you? Are you okay? I’m- I mean-”

The boy laughed. “I’m fine. That Thomas is a sketchy guy, kind of an asshole. Sorry about him.”

Peter shrugged. “He’s the one being an ass, not you. Thank you.”

The boy sat down beside him. “You’re welcome. I’m Harry.” He said, extending his hand.

Peter smiled. “I’m Peter.” He replied, shaking his hand happily.

Harry grinned. “Two shirley temples, please!” He called to the bartender. 

The bartender smiled and nodded, pouring two with an amused grin. He tossed the drinks to them. Harry smiled as he took a sip. “So what’s a cutie like you doing here?” He asked, an amused look on his face.

Peter turned bright red and scooted backwards slightly. “UM-! I-I came here with my dad actually, what about you?”

“Same here.” He replied, an amused look crossing his face.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, drinking the shirley temples. “So what’s your dad do?” Harry asked, finally breaking the silence.

Peter looked up. “Science stuff, mechanical engineering and all that jazz.”

Harry nodded. “Same here. Do you like doing that stuff?” He asked.

Peter nodded. “I like engineering and chemistry, but my favorite is definitely biology. There’s so much that we’re capable of if we figure out how to use our bodies to their full potential. Like being athletic! The only reason people are more athletic, faster runners, stronger physically, is because of their mitochondria count. Cells have thousands of mitochondria- people really underestimate how much is actually packed into our tiny cells. But the more mitochondria you have, the more your body can handle, think of them like batteries! Hundreds of batteries, more power to your device, hundreds of mitochondria, more power to your cells, you know?” 

Harry chuckled at his rant. “Yeah, I get it. You’re really into this stuff.” He chuckled.

Peter shrugged. “It’s mostly because of-” He paused for a moment before shrugging. “Nevermind. What about you? Do you like doing this stuff?”

Harry hesitated. “I like engineering, that’s fun to say the least. But I’m always reaching a goal I don’t think I’ll ever achieve.” 

Peter laughed gently. “Well you won't get there with that attitude. Keep your head up and you’ll get there eventually!” He encouraged. 

Harry smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

Peter grinned. “No problem.”

The two sat in silence again for a moment before Peter straightened up. “So what do you like? Other than work stuff and all that.”

He hummed for a moment. “I like milkshakes.”

“Oh my god you’re lame! What shows, movies, video games, ANYTHING!” Peter shouted playfully.

Harry laughed loudly as Peter sipped his drink. “Okay, well how about this. I like Star Wars.”

“There we go! Progress! I do too.” Peter replied firmly. “What else?”

Harry put his hands up in surrender before humming. “I like musicals, and most of the books by Rick Riordan.” 

Peter straightened up. “Have you read the Red Pyramid?”

“Duh, that’s one of my favorites.”

Peter grinned. “I started reading that one a while ago but I haven’t finished it.”

“Have you been to Cup of Joe?” He asked curiously.

Peter shook his head. “No, what is it?”

“It’s a nice coffee shop and lounge. One of those places that has a library in it- god what’re they called-”

Peter shrugged. “A college dorm?”

“Hardy har, they have an actual name, I just cant remember it.” Harry replied sarcastically.

Peter laughed for a moment. “But yeah no, why do you ask? If I’ve been to Cup of Joe?”

“I hang out there a lot. Its a nice cafe, they have good food and drinks.” Harry explained. “I go there to relax for the most part.”

Peter hummed. “Sounds nice there. Maybe I’ll have to hijack your days off.” He joked.

Harry laughed. “I don’t have a problem with that, you’re cute.”

Peter blushed again. “Well you aren’t half bad looking yourself, Harry.” Peter attempted.

Harry made a face before grinning, as the bartender approached. “Refills?” He offered.

“Yes please!” The two replied in unison, before looking at each other and laughing.

The bartender laughed and refilled their drinks. He stopped as he looked at the cherry jar. Most of the juice was out but a few cherries remained. He shrugged and looked at Peter. “Want them?”

Peter nodded excitedly as the bartender laughed and dumped them into his drink. Peter happily reached for a toothpick and stabbed at one, putting it in his mouth happily. “I love maraschino cherries.” He said happily. 

Harry laughed as Peter stabbed another one. He pulled the toothpick out with a happy smile. Harry grabbed his hand, catching him off guard, before biting the cherry off the toothpick with a grin. Peter’s face turned red as Harry moved backwards. “Hey, you got all the cherries, you gotta share.” He teased.

Peter flushed and turned away, looking into his drink red-faced. Harry chuckled. “Hey, whaddya say we ditch?”

Peter’s eyes widened as his head snapped up. “W-what?!”

“Oh come on, it’s okay. I ditch these things all the time, nothing bad will happen.” He promised.

Peter stared at him wide-eyed. “Wh- but- my dad, he’ll-”

“Relax. If he gets mad you can blame me. Come on, if you come with me you won’t regret it.” Harry said, a grin crossing his face.

Peter hesitated for a moment before sighing loudly. “Let me finish my drink.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Peter hesitated at the doors. Harry stood outside in the crisp autumn air. He had a massive grin on his face and was staring at Peter. “It’s now or never, Pete.” 

Peter hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and following Harry out. “It’s now or never.”

Harry grinned and took Peter’s hand. “Are you ready for the night of your life?” He asked, a smirk crossing his face.

Peter felt his face turn red. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to. But let’s start with ice cream.” Harry said, pulling him along.

Peter yelped, but followed after Harry with a loud laugh. “Wait up!” 

He ran down the streets, racing Harry to the nearest subway stop before nearly falling down the stairs in an attempt to get to the station before Harry. He laughed loudly and leaned against a pillar, catching his breath. Harry was wheezing beside him, holding his sides and gasping for air as he attempted to recollect himself. Peter gasped and sat up straight. “Oh my god that- that was- that was fun.” 

Harry laughed. “And the night is just beginning!”

Peter grinned at the taller boy before taking a deep breath as the next subway pulled up. “Come on.” Harry called, stepping onto the subway.

“What? Where’s it going?” Peter asked, running after him.

Harry shrugged. “Haven’t you listened to don’t stop believing? Midnight train going anywhere baby!” He shouted.

Peter laughed, somewhat in hysterics. “You’re kidding! We’re just on a random train?! This thing could be going to Jersey!”

Before Peter could get off, the doors closed, locking them in. “Then we’ll screw around in Jersey Peter, it’ll be fine.” He replied firmly. 

Peter stared at him for a moment. “God you’re insane!”

Harry laughed and sat down, motioning for Peter to follow suit. “Who’s your dad anyway?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What caused a question like that?”

“Well he must be a stickler to give you this much anxiety.” 

Peter shrugged. “It’s Tony Stark.”

Peter watched as Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh shit.” He said aloud.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh fuck well this just became much more complicated.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, feeling a bit of anxiety.

Harry laughed awkwardly. “My dad’s Norman Osborn.”

Peter froze for a moment before he began to laugh. “Oh my god we are so fucked!”

Harry began laughing as Peter ran his fingers through his hair. “If this is gonna be the last night of our lives, we may as well make it a good one!” Harry yelled decisively as he stood up.

Peter smiled. “I vote ice cream.” 

Harry nodded while grinning. Peter stopped for a moment before realizing where he recognized Harry from. Magazines, posters, billboards, news articles, how had he not recognized him before?! He shook his head, deciding not to think about it too hard, before turning to the attractive Osborn beside him. He was much more different than Peter expected him to be. He watched him quietly, before turning to his phone and idley scrolling through Instagram. He wondered if his dad was looking for him, or maybe Pepper. He silently debated on calling her, until the subway came to a stop and Harry spoke. “Come on, let’s see where we ended up.”

Peter looked up to see Harry standing in front of him, with his arm extended, and a grin still plastered on his face. “You don’t ever stop grinning, do you Osborn?” He asked amused, taking his hand.

Harry pulled him up. “Not when I have someone to impress.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed that you have enough confidence to ditch like this. I’ve heard your dad’s a bit of a… control freak.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t mind if I ditch so long as I show my face a bit and don’t cause trouble.”

Peter stared at him as the taller led him off the subway. “Doesn’t he worry? It doesn’t look like you have an escort or bodyguard. Doesn’t he worry that you’ll get hurt?”

Harry glanced over his shoulder at him, a curious look on his face, before he let out a sigh. “Like I said, he doesn’t care so long as I don’t do anything stupid.” 

Peter frowned. “Sounds like he doesn’t care too much.” He mumbled.

Harry turned and gave him a hard glare. Peter put his hands up in surrender. “Woah- I-I didn’t mean to offend you- I just-”

“It’s okay. I get where you’re coming from.” Harry interrupted.

Peter hesitated but nodded. “Okay…”

Harry stopped at the entrance of the subway and pulled out his phone. “Hey siri, directions to the nearest ice cream shop.” He said into the mic, changing the subject.

His phone dinged, before directions appeared. “Hey we’re close to one!” Peter yelped, looking over his shoulder at his phone.

Harry laughed slightly. “And see? We haven’t even left Manhattan.” Harry replied.

Peter stuck his tongue out playfully, before looking at the time. It was 10:30. “Is the ice cream shop even open?” He asked.

Harry nodded. “Yep, one of those late night date places from the looks of it.” 

Peter flushed slightly at the idea. It was a date place? He shook off his blush and smiled. “Sounds good!” 

The walk there was comfortable, the two telling jokes on the way there and making fun of the names of some businesses. Peter walked aimlessly, rambling on about Star Wars, when Harry grabbed his collar. “We’re here.” 

Peter looked up to see a large colorful building with the name “Scoops of Love” plastered onto the front. “Oh.”

Harry chuckled and opened the door for him. “Cuties first.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow at the flirt. “Then shouldn’t you be going in?” He attempted.

Harry laughed, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “Wow that was awful.”

When he didn’t budge, Peter rolled his eyes and gave in at the prospects of ice cream. He stepped into the building. It was comfortable, not hot but not cold either, there was a display case with several different flavors of ice cream in tubs. There were booths along the sides of the building and a few two seated tables here and there. There were two girls in the corner chatting, their fingers intertwined as the talked quietly, and a boy and a girl sitting on the other side of the shop. The boy’s eyes were red and he looked like he was holding back tears as the girl comforted him quietly. Harry stepped up to the counter looking at the different ice creams. “C’mon, Pete.” He called softly.

Peter looked up and followed quickly, standing beside Harry wide-eyed. He looked at all the different flavors as Harry made his decision quickly. “I’ll get a bowl of vanilla and carmel please.” He requested politely.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Way to pick the lamest option.” 

Harry laughed and nudged him gently. “It tastes good!” He defended.

Peter put his hands up in surrender, before looking back at the options. “Can I get a bowl of chocolate fudge please?” He asked, reaching into his back pocket.

The woman nodded. “Of course, what size?”

“Large.” Both boys replied in unison. They exchanged surprised looks, before chuckling.

Peter pulled out his wallet and began opening it when Harry grabbed his hands. “Stop, I brought you here, I’m paying.” He said, fishing his own wallet out of his pocket.

Peter opened his mouth to argue, but Harry grabbed his wallet and held it over his head as he attempted to fish his debit card out of his own wallet one handed. “Harry!” Peter yelped, jumping up to grab it.

Harry laughed and took a step back. “I’m paying!” He shouted, grabbing his card with his teeth. “Back off!” His shout was muffled as he dropped the card onto the table. “Scan!” He shouted quickly, as he began playing a game of keep-away with Peter’s wallet.

The cashier laughed and quickly scanned his card. When the deed was done, Harry returned Peter’s wallet. “Was that so hard?”

Peter glared at him. “You’re a bad person.”

“All this over what, $20? $10?”

“$15.” The woman cut it, an amused look on her face.

“See? You’re losing your mind over $15. Both of our dads are literal billionaires. Relax.” Harry teased, poking his nose lightly.

Peter moved his head back and barely refrained from hissing at Harry. Instead, he made an irritated face and turned away. “You’re a bad person. A very bad person.” He repeated, a pout on his face.

Harry laughed as the woman handed handed him a receipt and began working on their bowls of ice cream. The two watched quietly as she scooped swiftly, and handed them each the bowl and a spoon. “Caramel Vanilla and Chocolate Fudge.” She said happily.

Peter smiled as he took the styrofoam bowl of chocolate ice cream from the woman's hands. “Thank you!” He replied.

Harry took his bowl and led Peter to a booth beside the windows. The two slid into opposite sides of the booth and grinned. Peter immediately took a spoonful happily. Harry watched amused as Peter dropped his spoon back into the bowl and made a face before swallowing. “Goddamn this is good.” He said, taking in another spoonful.

Harry chuckled gently. “This place has four stars so I’m glad to see it lives up to its reputation.” He acknowledged. 

Peter nodded. “I think that review is missing a star.” He snorted, taking another bite.

Harry laughed and began enjoying his own ice cream. Peter sucked in air to say something, but began coughing as he inhaled some ice cream in his mouth. Harry watched him, beginning to panic slightly as Peter coughed loudly and began laughing. "Too much air-"

Harry laughed as Peter leaned back and coughed again, before he cleared his throat. "Are you okay?" 

Peter nodded. "Yeah, just dying."

Harry chuckled before smiling. "Hey, if we're gonna keep in touch we should exchange numbers." He sneered. 

After a moment of recovering, Peter looked up. "Do, ahem. Do you think that's a good idea? What with our fathers' feud?"

Harry shrugged. "Who said our dads would know?" 

"What if they search our phones?"

Harry watched him. "Does your dad search your phone?" 

Peter shrugged. "Not really but sometimes. Yeah every now and then…" 

Harry frowned. "That's not cool." He replied. 

Peter looked at him. "He just does it because he's overprotective."

"Still that's not okay." He repeated. 

Peter hesitated and turned away, before looking up. "I mean… maybe. But still I-"

"Let's, let's just forget that for a minute… If your dad catches you it'll be okay. He won't, he wouldn't hurt you, right?" He asked. 

Peter stopped and stared at him wide-eyed. "What?! No! Never!" He yelped. 

Harry nodded. "Okay that's good, I got worried for a second."

Peter shook his head. "Yeah no, dad would never hurt me." He promised. 

Harry nodded quietly as Peter gave him a hesitant look. "Your… your father doesn't hurt you? Does he?" Peter asked quietly. 

Harry hesitated but shook his head. "No, I wouldn't say that." 

Peter watched him carefully. "He… does he say things?" 

Harry didn't reply, but took a spoonful of ice cream. Peter took that as his answer. He stayed silent as he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. After a few moments of somewhat uncomfortable silence, Peter sat up. "Let's go to Central Park."

Harry looked up and raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

"I've heard Central Park is beautiful at night. Dangerous, but pretty. I can defend us if we get mugged." Peter ranted happily. 

Harry laughed, thankful for the change in subject. "You? Defend us? Sorry babe but if you're our only defense, we're gonna die."

Peter laughed, ignoring the comment, and raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what I'm capable of."

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not much what with your size.” He teased.

Peter felt the hairs on his neck raise and a part of him wanted to punt Harry just to prove a point. “You wanna throw hands, Osborn?” He threatened playfully.

Harry chuckled. “I’ll take you on, Stark.” He sneered.

The two boys laughed, an unusual comfort rolling over them. The joking, it was like they’ve known each other forever and they’ve only just met. It didn’t take Harry long to realize it was because they were treating each other like normal human beings, and not the kids of billionaires. If they had started with the godawful formalities, or introduced by their parents, Harry was certain they wouldn’t get along like this. Harry didn’t think about all the times he’d heard his father cursing Stark’s name for whatever reason, and Peter didn’t think about all the times he’d heard his dad complaining about Norman’s manipulative behavior. Right then, it was just the two of them laughing, and enjoying an ice cream together.

Harry looked up to see Peter grinning at him. “Well, come on! These ice creams are in styrofoam bowls, plastic spoons, we already paid, lets go Harry!” He yelped, as an excited look crossed his face. 

Harry sputtered as the brunet stood up. “Wait what?! You’re serious?!”

Peter nodded firmly. “You took me away from that stuffy Gala, I’m taking you away from an ice cream shop. Come on, I trusted you, return the favor!”

Harry laughed ridiculously. “You are insane!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Are you coming or not?” 

Harry stood up. “Hell yeah.” And the two were off.

Peter led him to the subway station, happily eating what was left of his ice cream. Harry watched the small brunet fondly as he skipped ahead of them. Peter walked with an extra bounce to his step as he made his way towards the station. Harry followed him closely, eyeing him down happily. Harry was carefully eyeing Peter’s figure. Not only was the boy good looking, he was incredibly kind and smart too. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t developing a small crush on him. Even if he’d just met him. “Harry!”

“Hm?”

“You got a little distant there, something on your mind, Osborn?” Peter asked playfully.

Harry shook his head. “Nah, just thinking about something.”

“Well share with the class, what were you thinking about?” Peter pressed.

“That you’re insane for going on a walk in Central Park at,” He paused to check his watch, “11:00 at night.

Peter laughed. “Oh come on. You’re gonna love it, it’s beautiful.” 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You talk like you’ve been there before.” 

A smirk crossed Peter’s face. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.”

Harry shook his head. “God it’s a miracle you aren’t dead yet.”

Peter laughed. “You can say that again!”

“It’s a miracle you aren’t dead yet.” He repeated.

The two laughed good naturedly as Peter stepped onto the subway. Harry followed him with a grin. They sat down and smiled, engaging in small talk, occasionally laughing as they ran out of conversation topics. Finally, the train pulled to a stop. The boys were up and off the train in an instant, running to the top of the stairs. “Come on, it’s just a short walk from here.” Peter said, leading the way.

Harry followed happily as Peter began humming a soft tune happily. It was familiar to Harry, he wasn’t quite sure where he’d heard it, but he’s heard it somewhere. As Peter stepped through the gates to Central Park, Harry couldn’t help but pause to admire him. The sky wasn’t clear, it never was in New York City, but the moon had managed to burst through just enough to create a silver halo around Peter, who smiled. He looked up at the moon and Harry felt his entire body shiver. It was like a picture out of a magazine, or a comic, or a photo gallery. Something almost impossible, but yet, here it was. In front of him. He couldn’t help but stare on in amazement.

It was dark, but the moonlight provided a blue-silver glaze over the scenery, as yellow lights from the nearby lampposts cast shadows onto the trees that swayed gently in the wind. In the center of Harry’s vision, stood Peter who was staring up at the moon, a large, gentle smile on his face. The silver moonlight reflected off his fluffy brown hair and his bright green eyes, as his dark smaragdine suit with a dark sapphire vest. He was standing up straight, a kind and confident look on his face. It was like a scene from a movie, and Harry felt breathless.

After a moment, the thick clouds and smog that often covered up the sky took their place in front of the moon, darkening the scenery, breaking the illusion. Peter frown slightly, before turning around. “The moon was really pretty.” Peter said smiling, as he took the chance to throw away the styrofoam bowl and plastic spoon.

“Not as pretty as you were just now…” 

Harry froze as he realized what he said, before he flushed and turned away. Peter looked up, and saw his bright red face, and felt his own face begin to burn. He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. “Uh- heh… umm… thank you…”

Harry’s face turned an even darker shade of red, as he meekly replied, “You’re welcome.” Before stuffing another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He wasn’t quite finished, since he was a slow eater.

Peter, attempting to shake off his flush, shook his entire body before straightening up. “Come on, I know a really nice place by the lake.”

Harry followed Peter who began treading the walkways, an embarrassed flush still gracing his features as he found the spot he was looking for. He jumped off the path and onto a large rock and began pulling himself up to the flat surface of it, as Harry approached the side. “How the hell did you even do that?!” He shouted, looking over the rough surface.

Peter glanced down before taking a sudden deep breath. “I come up here a lot, I’ve got a technique down.” He replied after a brief hesitation.

Harry raised an eyebrow, before nodding. “Alright then,”

Peter leaned over and reached his arm out, as Harry jumped to place his ice cream on the rock. “Do you trust me?” 

Harry stopped half way. “Did you just quote Aladdin?”

Peter began laughing as Harry stared at him ridiculously. “I SWEAR TO GOD STARK, DID YOU JUST FUCKING QUOTE ALADDIN?”

Peter laughed harder and nearly fell off the rock as he grabbed his sides, wheezing. Harry began laughing with him, seeing his hysterics. He rolled his eyes. “Oh my god what the HELL!”

Peter looked up and Harry could see tears of laughter cascading down his cheeks. “OH MY- OH MY GOD YOUR- YOUR FACE WAS-” Peter shouted as uncontrollable laughter erupted from his lips. 

Harry laughed as Peter gasped and coughed. “I can’t, I literally can’t. Oh my god, that was priceless.”

He rolled his eyes. “Help me up there you nerd.” He teased playfully.

Peter choked out one more laugh, before reaching over the side and helping Harry up. As Harry was pulled up onto the boulder, he couldn’t help but stop and gaze at the view. It wasn’t very tall, but you could see clearly over the entirety of the lake, and the bright NYC lights that pierced through the veil of trees reflected beautifully off the surface of the water. “This is…”

“Beautiful?” Peter murmured as Harry trailed off. “Yeah… it is.”

Harry turned to say something, but realized Peter was looking at him, a dark blush on his face. “S-Sorry! I-I-”

Harry shook his head. “No, i-it’s alright. I don’t mind.” He stuffed another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth as a weak attempt to cover up his blush.

Peter nodded and avoided his gaze. There were a few moments of silence, before Harry took a breath. “You know, you never gave me your number.”

Peter looked up in surprise. “And you never gave me yours.”

Harry smiled and held out his hand expectantly. Peter rolled his eyes and dug into his pocket for his phone, before handing it to him. Harry handed Peter his own phone so he could put in his number. The two punched in their numbers, when Harry froze. “Your dad’s calling.” He quickly said.

Peter quickly dropped Harry’s phone into his lap, and snatched his own phone back. He fumbled for a moment, before answering the face time. “Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark where the hell are you?”

“Uhhh… hi dad-”

“Where are you.” His father emphasized every word.

To say he looked upset was an understatement. He felt a cold chill run up his spine, before he turned to Harry. “Ummm… I ditched.” He admitted, turning back to his dad.

A startled look crossed his father’s face. “Are… you mad?”

“Not mad, just… surprised, and- YES ACTUALLY I AM MAD!” He shouted, after his confused expression disappeared. “YOU SHOULD’VE TOLD ME THAT YOU WANTED TO LEAVE! WE WOULD’VE LEFT! YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE OFF ON YOUR OWN, YOU COULD-”

“Tony, calm down.” The familiar voice of Pepper broke through. “He’s taking after you.”

There were a few moments of silence as Tony was staring off-screen, whispering violently and looking very unhappy. “Peter, where are you. We’re coming to pick you up.”

Peter hesitated for a moment. He was having fun, he didn’t want to go! Not yet… “I-I’m staying the night at Aunt May’s.” He finally lied. 

“Who’s with you?” Pepper asked.

Peter perked up, slightly surprised. “W-what? N-nobody, why do you think someone’s with me?”

“You keep glancing off screen, you’re with someone.” Pepper pressed playfully.

Peter hesitated, before turning the camera to Harry, who was mid-bite of his ice cream. “Uhh… hi.” He said through the mouthful.

“Peter is that Harry fucking Osborn.”

“Uhhh… in my defense I didn’t know it was him when I first met him.”

“You left your very first Charity Gala, with an Osborn.” His father replied slowly.

Peter hesitated before nodding. “Yeeesssss?” 

“Peter, tell me where you are, I’m having Happy drive you home.”

Peter gave Harry a panicked look, who just shrugged, looking alarmed. In a rush of panic, Peter hung up. He stared at his phone for a moment, before screaming. Harry’s eyes widened as Peter struggled to turn off his location, as he looked up wide-eyed. “Please tell me you have a pocket knife or SOMETHING.”

Harry stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”

“I NEED IT!” Peter wailed.

Harry scrambled to reach into his pocket, before pulling out a nail file. “Will this work?”

Peter quickly grabbed it and opened up the back of his phone, pulling out the battery, and taking off the secondary casing, revealing the circuit board. He searched in a panic for a moment, before using the nail file to wrench out a small chip. He dropped it in his hand and returned the casings back to his phone, and chucked the chip into the water. “What the hell was that?” Harry asked as Peter let out a loud sigh.

“My dad’s gonna be tracking my phone, come on, we gotta run before he gets the suit. I just took out the tracker.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You have a tracker in your phone?”

“Every phone does. My dad just has access to it even when it’s offline.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Overbearing much?”

“We gotta run before he gets here- come on!” Peter shouted, leaping off the rock.

Harry shouted in alarm, grabbing what was left of his ice cream, and running after Peter. The two began sprinting away. Harry dropped his finally empty bowl and spoon into a trash can as they fled the scene. “Where do we go?!” Harry screamed.

“ANYWHERE BUT HERE!” Peter yelled happily, running through the gates with a carefree and amused look on his face.

Harry laughed loudly, attempting to keep up. “YOU WANNA GO ON A DATE?” He shouted loudly as the two reached the streets, but continued running down the walkway.

Peter gasped at the question but nodded. “OKAY!”

Harry ran to catch up with Peter, who was far ahead of him. After a bit, Peter nearly collapsed against a wall, gasping for air. Harry staggered to his side. “God, for a small guy you can RUN.” Harry shouted through his laughter. 

Peter laughed along good-naturedly, but it sounded more like a wheeze than a laugh. Harry laughed and smiled at Peter. “I was being serious.” He managed to get out.

Peter smiled back. “And so was I.”

The two stopped breathing for just a moment to stare at each other, before laughing happily in unison. "So when… when do you wanna go on a date?" 

Harry shrugged. "Right now?"

Peter laughed. "Wait, seriously?"

Harry shrugged. "Sounds like your dad's gonna kill you the second he sees you, I wanna be able to do this before you're six feet under." He teased playfully. 

Peter shook his head. "You know what? This night has already been a chaotic mess. What's the worst that could happen." He decided. 

Harry grinned. "Plus it's not like he'll tear down a movie theater to find us."

"Oh, so we're going to the movies?" 

Harry nodded. "Cliché, but fun nonetheless." He replied.

"That's true." Peter resigned. 

Harry chuckled lightly before going silent to finish catching his breath. After a few moments, Harry stepped forward and grabbed Peter's hand. "Come on, let's go see what the theaters got." 

Peter flushed lightly as Harry squeezed his hand lightly and pulled him along to the nearest theater. It was a relatively long walk, but Peter didn't mind. Harry's hands were unusually warm for the chilly air. It was comforting and Peter couldn't help but trust him wholeheartedly. When they arrived at the theater, Peter smiled. Harry led him to the counter where a girl, probably just a year or so older than them, looked up from her phone. She straightened and smiled. "Hey, how can I help you two?"

Harry smiled and looked at the screen that was displaying the movies and their showtimes. The only one that would be on within the hour was Frozen 2. He nudged Peter lightly. “Wanna watch Frozen 2?” He said in a joking tone.

Peter laughed. “Anything to avoid dying by my father’s hand. Sure.”

Harry snickered. “Two tickets to Frozen 2 I guess.”

The girl sighed and printed the tickets out. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Harry looked to Peter. “Still hungry?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I was planning on eating at the Gala, but you pulled me away you jerk.” 

Harry laughed at the comment. “Fine, what do you want?”

“Pretzel.” 

“Alright. We’ll get two pretzels then, with cheese, a large bucket of popcorn,” He glanced momentarily at Peter, before chuckling, “four bags of twizzlers, and two drinks.” 

Peter’s eyes widened. “Why are we getting four bags of twizzlers, Harry?” He asked in a deadpan tone.

“Snacks. If we’re facing death we may as well die happy.” He remarked.

Peter stopped. “You have a point. Order away.”

“Well if you’re gonna be like that, we’ll also get four bags of skittles.” 

Peter began giggling as the girl stared at him in disbelief. “Wha...what drinks do you want.” She finally said, after recovering herself.

“I’ll take a root beer. Peter?”

“I’ll get an orange soda please!”

The girl shook her head, before turning to her coworker who was laying in the back. “JEFFRIES!” She shouted, catching the boy off guard. “We got an order!”

Peter pulled out his credit card, attempting to pay, when Harry smacked his hand away again. “Stop! I asked you out, I’m paying!”

“But-”

“It’s my dad’s card anyway, relax, it’s okay. Let me pay.” Harry demanded.

Peter hesitated, about to argue again, before remembering what Harry had said about his father before. “Lets get so much shit his card gets cancelled.” Peter decided aloud.

Harry began laughing. “We are not driving my father’s business into the ground.” 

Peter laughed along as the girl and her coworker, Jeffries apparently, began working on their ridiculously sized order. After a few minutes, they had all the food handed to them. Peter couldn’t help but laugh as he stumbled into the showing room and found a good seat. The room was relatively empty since how late it was. Peter made himself comfortable in the cold room as Harry settled down beside him, distributing drinks, candies, and pretzels with cheese. A chill ran up Peter’s spine. It was colder in the theater than it was outside and Peter wasn’t enjoying that. 

As the movie began, Peter found himself gravitating towards Harry and pressing into his side, enjoying the warmth. He smiled as he snacked on the twizzlers first. By the end of the movie, the two were practically cuddling, with Harry’s arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder as he rested his head on top of Peter’s, who was as close as the chair would allow him to be. When the credits appeared and the lights turned back on, Peter felt himself burn at the closeness of him and Harry. Harry released him after a moment and laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay, i-it was cold anyway.” Peter interrupted, his face bright red.

Harry smiled and looked down awkwardly. “We still have a few snacks leftovers. Wanna get refills and watch another movie?” He asked.

Peter smiled. “Okay.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The two boys had watched two more movies after that, before realizing it was 4 in the morning. Peter had decided to go to Aunt May’s house, just like he told Tony he would, and Harry was walking him home. Harry walked beside him. They had taken the subway, but now they had to walk to a bus stop and take the bus. Peter sighed fondly. “Harry Osborn, that was one of the best nights of my life. And I have lived through many nights.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Peter. We should definitely do it again.”

Peter snorted. “Agreed.” 

The two walked in silence as they sat down at the bus stop. “So, on a scale of 1 to 100, how upset do you expect your father to be when you get home?” Harry asked.

Peter immediately laughed. “Somewhere in the upper 7,000 range.” 

Harry chuckled along with him, before sighing. “Damn, and I was hoping for a second date.”

Peter flushed lightly at that. “Well then I guess I’ll have to systematically avoid him for as long as it takes for him to calm down.”

Harry looked up and chuckled as a bus pulled up to the stop. The two stood up and boarded the bus, sitting comfortably in the front seats. There was nobody there other than one or two businessmen preparing for the day, looking tired. Peter leaned into Harry, it had become somewhat of a habit over the course of the night. Harry looked down at Peter. “You know, I think this has also been one of the best nights of my life too.”

Peter felt a grin grow on his face. “Is that so, Osborn?”

Harry chuckled. “That it has. I think only one thing could top this night off.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

Harry turned to him slowly, a small smile crossing his face, before leaning forward. Peter felt his heart jump as Harry’s lips connected with his own. He almost forgot to kiss back as the realization set in. He began kissing back, slowly at first, before deepening the kiss. He felt Harry cup the back of his head with his hands, before the two pulled away for air. Peter took a deep breath and he felt Harry’s breath on his lips. “Damn you’re a good kisser.” He whispered.

“You are too…” Peter whispered back.

He had barely gotten the sentence out when their lips were connected again, the kiss being much more hot and heavy this time. They were leaning into each other, hands trailing over each others bodies as the kiss grew deeper and deeper by the moment. 

The two were finally pulled out of their imagination when the bus stopped. Peter jumped and looked around, wide-eyed and flustered. The two were gasping for breath as the doors opened and Peter cursed. “This is my stop.”

Harry stood up and helped Peter off the bus. Peter began leading the way back to his house, and stopped in front of the large building. “I’ll walk you the rest of the way…” Harry stuttered, embarrassed from their makeout session.

Peter nodded, still flustered, before beginning to show him the way to his house. After reaching it, Peter laughed awkwardly. “Uhh, you know, umm… It’s pretty late and… your father… do you, umm… doyouwannastaythenight?” Peter squeaked, flustered.

Harry felt his face burn bright red and Peter saw his somewhat stunned expression. “NO NOT LIKE THAT- I MEAN- IT’S LATE OUT AND I’D HATE FOR YOU TO GO HOME AT THIS TIME!” Peter yelped, his face turned even redder.

Harry laughed, feeling his own blush grow. “Y-yeah! I mean, yeah, I’ll just… I’ll just stay for a bit and I can… go home later.”

Peter nodded. “Okay… Yeah, okay.”

He unlocked the doors and let Harry in first, his flush never disappearing. Peter stepped upstairs before sighing loudly and rubbing the back of his neck. “I, umm… I have some t-shirts and sweatpants you can wear, I’d hate to let you sleep in these stuffy suits.”

Harry nodded. “Alright, thank you.” He replied, as Peter began digging in his drawers. He pulled out a black long sleeved shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants and handed them to Harry. 

“The bathroom is down the hall just before the stairs to the left.” Peter mumbled, trying to hide his blush.

Harry nodded and thanked him, and quickly made his way down the hallway. He changed and was somewhat alarmed at how comfortable the clothes were. He found himself nestling into the clothing. They were soft and freshly washed by the smell of them. He picked up his suit, folding it neatly, and exited the bathroom, making his way back towards Peter’s room. He knocked lightly and heard a small, “Come in.”

He stepped through and froze when he saw Peter standing there in a light blue t-shirt and a pair of oversized sweatpants that he would almost certainly trip over. He blushed at the sight and smiled lightly. “Hey there…” He whispered.

Peter smiled, a flush crossing his face that was thankfully hidden by the shadows. “Hi…” 

He coughed as a weak attempt to hide his embarrassment, before moving towards his bed and patting beside him lightly. Harry stepped towards him and smiled. “Are you sure this is okay?” He asked, setting his suit down on an empty space on the dresser, before sitting beside him.

Peter smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it’s alright.���

Harry smiled and flushed, before looking down. “Alright, umm…” 

Harry felt Peter touch his cheek, turning his head, and press a kiss to his lips. Harry felt a jolt of electricity run through him and kissed back. The kiss quickly deepened and Harry found himself gently pushing Peter down, pinning him to the bed. Peter moaned softly into the kiss as Harry rubbed his crotch gently with his knee and straddled him, deepening the kiss even further. Harry stopped when he felt Peter’s hand press against his chest, pushing him back lightly. He pulled away and looked down at Peter. He was flustered and obviously embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. “I-I think… I don’t think it’s a good idea to do...that. I mean I-I just met you today and-”

Harry immediately pushed himself off of Peter. “Oh my god I’m so sorry- I didn’t realize what I-”

“It’s okay- it’s not that I didn’t like it I just-”

Peter and Harry both went silent, staring at each other with flustered expressions. “I’m sorry.” They both replied in unison.

Harry straightened. “Don’t you dare apologize, I was the one pushing you to do… that. It’s okay if you don’t want to, I did just meet you earlier today.”

Peter nodded. “I was the one who initiated the kiss. It's alright.” He said, trailing off quietly. Finally, Peter began laughing and hiding his face. “Oh god this is so weird now.” 

Harry laughed awkwardly beside him. “I mean, do you want me to sleep on the floor?”

“No! We can still share the bed, I just-- god. I’m sorry if I made it weird.”

Harry immediately shook his head. “Stop apologizing, I don’t wanna do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Peter smiled lightly. “Thank you.” He murmured.

“It’s okay. And if you don’t want me to sleep up here, I’m just fine with moving to the floor.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I don’t mind, just no touching in weird spots.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Those are terms I can comply with.”

Peter let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The brunet chuckled softly. “So, shall we sleep?”

Harry chuckled along. “We shall.”

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Peter felt himself begin to wake. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked rapidly. It was dark in his room, the curtains were drawn shut and the christmas lights that lined the walls were off. He took a deep breath through his nose and sat up, rubbing his eyes with his palms for a moment. He looked around his room and did a double take when he saw Harry asleep beside him. He felt his face begin to burn red and he turned to his alarm clock, which read 12:43pm. He rubbed his eyes again, checked his phone, and felt his heart sink. 132 missed texts from several people and 59 missed calls. “Oh my god I am actually going to die.” He stood up, careful not to wake the sleeping Osborn, and crept across the room to the hallway.

He closed the door quietly and stepped out of the room. He stepped down the stairs and saw Aunt May in the kitchen on the phone. She looked up and smiled knowingly. “I gotta go, bye.” She hung up.

“So? How was your night out?” She asked playfully.

Peter felt his face burn. “It was… It was good. How- how was- how was your day?” He stuttered.

May grinned lightly. “My day was fine. Your father got a little worried when you threw away the tracker.”

Peter buried his face in his hands. “He’s gonna kill me, May. Please don’t let him end my life.” He wailed into his hands.

May laughed. “Don’t worry Peter, he’s just worried about you. I called him and told him you made it home safe. And no, he doesn’t know anything about Harry Osborn sleeping next to you.” 

Peter sagged with relief. “God I’m actually going to die May, he’s gonna kill me!” 

May laughed. “Go to Pepper first, she’ll be able to calm him down. It’ll be fine.” She reassured.

Peter whined sadly before looking down at his phone. May pat his head lightly. “I’m glad you woke up before I went to work.” She hummed lightly. 

Peter smiled softly. “I’m glad I did too. You have a good day Aunt May.” He said as she kissed his cheek, before leaving the house. 

He stared after her, smiling, before turning to the cabinet. He pulled out a box of wheatcakes and a bowl and began making them. Peter hummed softly as he mixed the batter and dropped a bit onto the greased pan, which sat over the burning flame. He quickly turned and grabbed a plate out of the cupboard and returned to the stove, flipping the wheatcakes. He hummed a soft tune as he made cooked all the batter into something like 23 wheatcakes. He laughed at how overboard he had gone, but he didn’t mind much as he stored several of them in a tupperware and put them into the fridge to reheat later. 

He heard footsteps behind him and looked up to see Harry standing there, looking slightly confused and curious. “Hey Harry.” He said, waving the spatula with a smile.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Hello there?” He said, seeming confused. 

Peter laughed and pointed to the wheatcakes. “Breakfast! Well, lunch. Brunch!”

Harry laughed. “You made pancakes?”

Peter glared at him. “Don’t you dare ever utter those words in front of me ever again.” Peter warned.

Harry sputtered. “What?! What words!?”

“Pancakes! Never say that cursed word ever again!” 

“What?! Why?” Harry demanded playfully.

"Its awful! They're called wheatcakes." Peter demanded firmly. 

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "They're pancakes, Peter!" He shouted. 

Peter whipped around and chucked the spatula at him. "HUSH!"

Harry mock-screamed as the spatula bounced off him onto the floor. He gasped loudly. "Did you just throw a goddamn spatula at me?!" He screamed in faux anger. 

Peter glared at him, barely biting back a grin. "Yeah? What're ya gonna do about it?"

"We're breaking up." 

Peter slapped his chest and yelled, "Noooo! The only relationship I've ever been in!"

The two stopped and laugh, a light blush crossing both of their faces. "How many do you want?" Peter asked, turning to the plate. 

Harry smiled. "Three please."

Peter smiled as Harry sat down. Peter smiled and used a fork to put three wheatcakes on the plate. “Butter? Syrup?” Peter offered.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah, both please.”

Peter used the fork to cut a slice of butter and threw the slice onto the wheatcakes, and handed him the syrup, before leaving the fork on his plate. “Enjoy.” He said grinning, before getting his own plate.

Harry thanked him as Peter made his own plate. After placing 5 pancakes on his plate, he drenched them in syrup and sat beside Harry and began eating happily. Harry raised an eyebrow at his large plate. “How do you eat so much and keep that figure of yours?” Harry asked teasingly. 

Peter flushed and replied, “I have a fast metabolism,” He explained.

Harry nodded and continued eating. The two engaged in small talk, learning more about each other, and chatting lightly, before Harry sighed. “I should probably head home.” He said, taking his now empty plate and rinsing it off in the sink. “It was really nice to meet you, Peter, and I was hoping, maybe we could have a more official date, say, this upcoming Friday?”

Peter felt his heart jump in his chest and he nodded. “Alright, yeah, that sounds great!” He said, a smile crossing his face.

Harry grinned. “Alright, let me go get my suit and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Peter smiled and watched him disappear upstairs. He pulled out his phone and tapped the familiar icon. His phone rang for a moment, before he heard a familiar voice answer. “Hello?”

“Hey Pepper, do you think you could help me with something real quick?”

#parksborn #parksborn fanfic #fanfic #fic #irondad #iron dad #iron dad fanfic #MSM #msm 2017 #marvels spiderman 2017

[wykart]

Five and Vanya

Their friendship is precious and look I wrote a fic!! 

Title: Fix Her

Summary: Five was Vanya's only friend at the academy, once he left, everything changed.

A fic about Vanya and Five's friendship growing up, and how that friendship kept them hopeful in all the years they spent apart.

read chapter one under the cut or read on ao3 

Any moment now she’d hear him rustling around downstairs. Maybe he would come through the bedroom window and surprise her, the same way they would sneak out at night. He wouldn’t just go. He wouldn’t leave her all alone here. Five would come back. He’d run off at dinner and hadn’t been back to the house since. Vanya couldn’t sleep not knowing where he was. After their father had stopped calling after him, he’d simply gone back to his meal, and so did the rest of them, as if nothing had happened. Vanya had gotten to her feet, ready to chase off after him. Her father had put a stop to that. He would return when he was ready to face the consequences, he’d said. Her siblings hadn’t even seemed bothered about Five storming off, he liked to make a scene, and would quite often hide himself away in a secluded corner of the house and evade the rest of them for hours. Not Vanya. She knew all of his secret hiding places, she knew because they were here hiding places too. It was going to be alright, she told herself. He would probably be here in her room when she woke up, telling her that she was silly for worrying so much. She held onto that hope as she lay awake, because she knew that she couldn’t face a day in this house without him.

...

Four years earlier

“Go away Vanya,” Allison sneered, “you cant play with us, father said so.” The children were playing again, at least that’s what their father called it when they practised their training drills on one another. Sometimes half would pretend to be robbers, the others the heroes, but it was all just a guise for their true purpose, as father said, to fight off evil.

Vanya had wandered into the middle of their little set up, hoping to integrate herself into the make believe scenario as effortlessly and as welcomely as the others seemed to. She’d shuffled awkwardly into the centre of the room waiting to be noticed, testing the waters, seeing how long it would take for them to send her away. Vanya ignored Allison’s jab and continued shuffling her way towards Luther and Diego, locked in a fist fight that was a little too rough to be considered training. Allison scoffed and went back to Five, who was teleporting around her as she threw punches and kicks. He was laughing, which only egged her on. Five always loved to tease the others, always smirking as he danced around the rest. He’s the only one that ever paid any attention to her, even if it was just in the form of sitting in silence in the library, reading, or the occasional kind remark. The others, even Ben and Klaus, mostly ignored her because they followed the lead of one two and three - and those three followed fathers example to the book. They all admired him, but those three were especially devout. Father ignored vanya, told everyone she wasn’t really part of the academy, that she failed to be strong like the rest of them, to be special. Of course they believed him, he was all they’d ever had. Five was the only one who seems to question that notion.

Vanya practised their fighting moves in secret, the uppercuts and jabs and disarming techniques. It was difficult, learning such things on her own, but she made do. Sometimes she even confined herself that she belonged here.

Luther pushed Diego backwards, who toppled into Vanya as she observed the scene. “What the hell Vanya!” He cried, “you’re just getting in the way, get out of here.” She shrugged an apology and moved on, maybe if she stuck around long enough they’d have to include her. She didn’t have anything better to do.

“Ahhhh,” Klaus cried theatrically, rolling around on the ground with his hand draped over his forehead. “Please save me number one, save me from these terrible fiends!” Klaus was playing hostage, a role that everyone else tended to avoid. Klaus, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the drama. Ben was sat next to him, giggling, pretending to hold him at gunpoint. Vanya suppressed a smile.

“Vanya!” It was Allison again, she got sort of scary when she was mad. “You’re getting in the way, I have to go free the hostage, you’re messing up our training.”

“Hey guys,” Klaus piped up, breaking his long string of wails, “maybe Vanya can be hostage, she doesn’t really have to do anything.” Allison simply rolled her eyes.

“You shut your mouth, citizen,” Ben grumbled, putting on a deep, gravelly voice.

Klaus grinned and got back to wailing, “ohhhh nooo please don’t kill me!”

“Vanya can’t be hostage,” Luther said, and as leader his word was law. “She’s too quiet and boring, hostages aren’t like that in the real world.”

“Pretty sure hostages aren’t like that in the real world either,” Diego pointed at Klaus, who was rolling around on the floor while Ben laughed and struggled to hold him still. Vanya smiled at Diego to express her gratitude, but he turned away pointedly. Sometimes she suspected he only stuck up for her because it was the opposite of what Luther said.

“We don’t even need a hostage,” Allison added, “we just need to practise fighting, Klaus just likes messing around.”

“That’s right,” Luther muttered, he always agreed with Allison. “We should really just concentrate on honing our skills, father says that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Yeah, well,” Diego smirked, “your skills could use some honing.” He ducked out of the way instinctively, anticipating a punch. Luther managed to hold himself back (for once) and simply grimaced as if the slight had caused him physical pain.

“Can we get back to the game now?” Ben asked, “and can I be the hero next time? Klaus is being weird,” even as he said it Klaus pulled a face and Ben collapses into yet another fit of laughter.

Vanya giggled, but stopped short when she caught sight of Allison’s icy glare. “Vanya.” She said, coldly, “go.” Vanya looked down at her shoes, unmoving.

“Hurry up,” Luther chided, “or we’ll get father, you know you’re not allowed to play with us.” Even Diego didn’t disagree with that sentiment.

Vanya finally mustered up the courage to speak. “I can fight,” she murmured, “I’ve been practising.” Diego badly suppressed a chuckle. “What?” She cried, indignant, “I have been, I bet I could play the hero next time.”

All six of them - no, not Five - shared a knowing glance. They burst out laughing. “Come on, Vanya, it’s ok,” Klaus chuckled, “you don’t have to pretend like you’re one of us.”

“You don’t have powers,” Ben said, a little shy, looking up at Luther and Allison for some sort of praise. “You’re not even really a part of the academy.”

“You were never meant to be here,” Luther said, and Allison, right to his side.

“Father doesn’t want you.” It’s the same phrases, over and over, passed around the circle. No matter how many times she hears them, they hurt just the same.

“Shut up, Allison,” Five snarked, speaking up for the first time. Allison scowled at him, and Luther stepped in front of her protectively, putting himself between her and five. Five rolled his eyes. “Calm down there big boy,” he smirked, “Alison, you should really keep your dog on a leash.” Luther lurched forwards to attack, but Five was gone in a flash of blue light before his fist was even raised. Klaus was laughing hysterically, spluttering the phrase ‘big boy.’

“Shut your mouth, Five,” Luther grumbled, making his voice sound deeper than it really was.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth for once, and stop being so mean to Vanya. It’s not like dad cares about the games we play, they’re just games.”

This only made Luther angrier. “They’re not just games, we’re training as a team. Vanya isn’t part of the team.”

“You really do live in make-believe world, one, not everything’s life or death.”

“You know what? Fine, she can be the hostage. Once. But don’t let dad see or we’ll all be in trouble.”

Five gave a snide smile. “Vanya wants to be the hero, she said so herself.”

Klaus chuckled, “yeah, maybe it’s time to step down, big boy.” Ben was laughing as well, but not at Luther, at the absurdity of such a notion. The notion of letting Vanya lead. They were all laughing at her again.

“I – It’s okay, really,” Vanya stammered, “it was silly, I’ll just…” she turned on the spot, unsure of what to do with herself. “I’ll just go.”

“Vanya, wait!” Five called, but she was already scurrying up the stairs, embarrassed.

She heard the conversation continue a while from the upstairs landing. “Why do you like Vanya so much anyway, Five?” Klaus asked.

“Yeah,” Diego added, “she’s so weird and boring.”

“She’s more interesting than any of you,” Five said. No one had ever called her interesting before. The thought brought a smile to her lips. “All you care about is fighting.”

“What else is there,” Luther replied, smugly, “that’s what we were made for, that’s what our powers are for. Vanya wasn’t made for anything.”

“You, it seems, were made to be a pain in my ass,” Five sniggered. Luther looked aghast, even Diego was taken aback. Klaus roared with laughter.

“If you’re not going to train then just go,” Allison snapped, stepping closer to Five, threateningly. “Go, or I’ll make you.”

Five’s expression darkened. He stepped back, shaking his head. “Fine,” he resorted, “there’s no need.” In another flash, and a burst of warbling energy, he was gone. Allison’s eyes darted up to the landing where Vanya was lurking. She ducked out of the way hurriedly and shut herself in her room. Again.

#tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #vanya hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #number seven #the boy #the white violin #ao3

[crowkingwrites]

Username: InfernalHeir

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton X Reader

For this one, I decided to combine two fic requests.

Words: 3474  // Ao3 Link //Game of Thrones Masterlist

You pressed ‘post’ on your most recent blogpost detailing yet another day in the thoughts of your mind. Of course, not many people would read about another female college student, but you had your followers. Some were your friends who enjoyed your writing, others were book nerds, but you loved them all.

One person would always comment and like your posts, but you never knew who. You asked your friends, but all of them claimed it wasn’t them. You clicked on the profile only to learn that this user had no posts of their own. Only their username: InfernalHeir.

Some days the user bothered you. Asking personal questions you’d rather not answer. Other times InfernalHeir would be sweet. Complimenting your writing, intelligence, and kindness. Still, you’d wondered who it was.

*Ding! Ding!*

A notification on your phone went off, and there it was. ‘InfernalHeir has liked your post’. You shrugged it off and turned in for the night. You had an early exam in the morning in American Western History. Some students preferred to stay up late, but you enjoyed your early bedtime. You curled up with another book and a cup of warm tea.

The next morning, you walked out of your first class feeling slightly defeated. A fast-talking, excited blonde walked alongside you.

“Can you believe that? Another Disney Channel star going into rehab,” she shook her head and stared at her phone. “That’s sad. That says something about Disney. Geez. What do you wanna do for lunch?”

“Gabe?” you replied.

“Oh right! Gabe! I almost forgot,” she said. “This is why I have you. I swear to god I wouldn’t survive without you. I’ll text Gabe back. Think he’ll meet us in the dining hall?”

Hillary was the type of friend who went out and partied every weekend. She was also the friend who had too many friends on facebook. Most people envied you for being her very best friend. Hillary stuck to you like Shaggy stuck to sandwiches. She was your only true friend, and you loved her dearly.

“So, Gabe texted us back. He’s down with the dining hall. But, he’s not alone. He’s got people with him. Including Tony,” Hillary wiggled her eyebrows. Your face started to turn red. You tried to hide yourself in your books. “You gotta talk to him!”

“I don’t know,” your voice trailed off.

“Oh come on! He totally likes you!” Hillary kept talking. “And you guys would be such a cute couple! Seriously! Like think of every bookish, quiet girl, right? And then think about like every athletic dude, right? Like you guys are Hollywood-movie-dream couple, ok? You have to talk to him!”

“You really think he likes me?” you said with a little bit of confidence.

“Honey! It’s so obvi!” Hillary threw her hands in the air. “He smiles at you all the time. He always likes your pics on Instagram. Like do you need any other sign?”

You smiled to yourself as you both walked through the doors of the dining hall. You saw Gabe from a mile away. His purple afro stood out against everyone else in the room. He wore a shirt stained with all different colors of paint. The college basketball team surrounded him and Tony. Tony stuffed his mouth full of spaghetti and meatballs.

“Gabe!” Hillary shouted out. A smile came to Gabe’s face.

“There’s my big girl! What’s up, mama?!” Gabe laughed and embraced Hillary. She giggled.

“You gotta stop callin’ me mama!”

“I’ll stop calling you mama when you stop cookin’ like my Mama, alright?” Gabe flirted with her. “What’s up, Y/N?”

You smiled and nodded at Gabe. Hillary tried to drg you to parties all of the time. She simply couldn’t understand why you hated people. People were great! Gabe would stick up for you when you ran out of excuses for Hillary. He knew you were only just shy. Gabe nodded back at you.

“Y/N!” Tony shouted for you. He patted a seat next to him. You glanced back at Hillary who pushed you Tony’s way. You happily took your seat next to him. Tony smelled of the woods at midday and apples baking into a pie. Every time you sat close to him, you wished you could give him a long hug.

“Hi,” you managed to say.

“Hey you,” Tony nudged you. “How are you today?” You felt butterflies in your tummy. Their wings tickled your insides. It brought a big smile to your face.

“I’m good,” you smiled.

“Good. Good,” Tony nodded, smiling back. Every day it was like this. A smile here. A question there. Your shyness prevented you from doing any actual talking to Tony. He made you nervous. If you messed up in front of him, you’d fear you would never show your face in front of him again. Days like this made you feel helpless in every sense.

You started to write your daily blog post for the night. A familiar song came on your Spotify, and you smiled because the timing was too perfect.

Hi everyone!

I can’t help myself anymore. If I don’t put this into writing, I might explode! There’s this guy I can’t stop thinking about. He’s tall and sweet and every time I see him I wanna just collapse into his arms and never leave. I feel so ~helpless~ (Ah! AH! Hamilton reference anyone??) And its sooooooooooooooooooo perfect that Taylor Swift started to play. Now, I’m listening to You Belong With Me, and fuck! These feels guys!! I really think we belong together so much. Its just I cant fucking talk to him. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kill me.

If anyone out there can tell the girls who reads too much how to actually flirt with another dude please help.

You pressed ‘post’ and your thoughts went live to the Internet. It wasn’t long after until you started to get comments from people.

LilyRose29: Try talking about movies! Guys always have movies they wanna talk about.

Potterhead4Ever: Slide into his Dmsssssss

HilsBils: I swear to God!!!!!!!!!! If you don’t talk to tomorrow I’m telling on you.

You chuckled at Hillary’s comment. She loved drama and you bet she wasn’t kidding either. You made a mental note that Hillary would put you and Tony together somehow and force you to say something other than ‘I’m good’. You refreshed the page to find a new comment at the bottom.

InfernalHeir: If he’s jock, he only wants to fuck you and leave you. He doesn’t deserve you.

Your stomach turned a bit at the hateful comment. It was comments like this that made you wonder who the frick this user was. They will say awful things like this, but then compliment you as if you were some perfect coffee shop girl au. You hated it, but it made you think. Tony was on the college basketball team. He was a jock, and they had a certain reputation.

The next day, you took a trip to the bookstore. Every Saturday, you slowly wandered around a bookstore and let yourself drink in the different worlds and discoveries and lives and deaths of everything and everyone. It was your time to yourself and you loved every second of it. You let your coffee warm your hands as you skimmed through cooking books.

You heard a book drop nearby and you jerked your head around to see. Picking up the book was a familiar face. His messy brown hair and startling stare stuck out. Ramsay Bolton. Hillary told you some odd things about him. How he would talk about himself, yet no one seemed to know anything concrete about him. How rich his family was. Hillary had secretly confessed that she thought he would shoot up the place if anyone ever said ‘no’ to him.

He looked your way as he picked up the book, and stayed there when the book returned to the shelf. Ramsay didn’t move. Feeling something off, you left the bookstore early.

The next week was filled with even more butterflies from Tony. Both of you texted back and forth. Mostly gifs and memes, but you texted him. He even studied with you! It wasn’t until Friday when you and Tony were left alone at a party when he asked you out. You immediately squealed and told the Internet what happened. You felt like your heart beat a thousand times over. Saturday came again, and you did your ritual.

The bookstore smelled of candles burning and musty air. It made you wonder if anyone has made a candle that smelled of old books yet. You bumped into someone in front of you. Before you could mumble your apology, you noticed the same blue eyes from the Saturday before.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Ramsay said. His intense stare caught you frozen. “What do you have there?”

“Two books,” you said quickly. You glanced at the exit. It wasn’t too far.

“About what?” Ramsay tried to get a closer look by coming closer to you.

“Nothing important,” you darted towards the door before e could say anything else. Of course, you told Hillary the whole thing.

“No way!” she said, pinning her hair up from tonight’s party. “You gotta stay away from him. He gives me the creeps.”

Tony held your hand at the party, but he didn’t ask you to dance. Both of you were in agreement that you were both bad dancers.

“Hey, uh, can I get you a drink?” he asked you. You nodded enthusiastically. When Tony left you sitting by yourself, someone else took his spot.

“Is he bothering you?” Ramsay asked. Shocked that he was here at the party, you cowered away from him. He got closer to you. “I mean it. Is he bothering you?”

“No,” you said. You looked away from him, hoping he would leave.

“You can tell me.” Ramsay didn’t take the physical hint from you. “I can make him leave if you want me to.”

“Hey!” you both heard. Tony held two drinks in his hand and glared at Ramsay. “The fuck you doing?”

Ramsay stood up slowly. You watched them stare each other down until Ramsay slowly walked away from you. You took the drink from Tony as he walked you away into a more private space.

“You good? Did he bother you?” Tony asked you. His eyebrows knitted while he waited for your response.

“Yeah. I don’t really like him,” you told him in confidence.

“Yeah. No one does,” Tony continued. “You tell me if he bother you again, ok? I got you, babygirl.” You smiled at his new nickname for you. Babygirl. You repeated it in your head over and over. When you logged into your blog again, you found a private message.

InfernalHeir: you've got a smile that could light up this whole town // I know you better then that Hey what you doing with a boy like that.

You closed your laptop as you mouthed some curse words. Lyrics from You Belong With Me. Who was InfernalHeir and how did they know you and Tony were together tonight?

You tried not to put any energy into the idea. Or anything that InfernalHeir did, but this was getting personal. You sat in the library with Tony. Each of you worked on your own essay. Well, at least you did. Tony scrolled from meme to meme to meme. You typed away on a paper until you got an airdrop notification.

‘Item from “InfernalHeir”

You opened it up to see another set of lyrics from Taylor Swift’s song. Along with a more personal message.

I know your favorite songs And you tell me about your dreams I think I know where you belong I think I know it's with me

Think Tony knows you? He doesn’t know you like I do.

InfernalHeir knew who Tony was. You looked around the library and saw other students just studying or pretending to study like Tony was. You slammed your laptop and started to pack your things.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong, babygirl?” Tony asked, slowing you down. You bit your lip.

“You’re gonna think its stupid.” You responded to him. You didn’t like feeling vulnerable like this.

“Try me,” Tony said. You told him the story of InfernalHeir and their comments, including the most recent one now. Tony hugged you tight.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “That’s messed up. That’s really messed up. There’s no way you have enemies. You’re too quiet for that. Can you think of anyone who doesn’t like you?”

You shook your head. You had very limited friends. You wouldn’t do or say anything too terrible about anybody. Tony assured you it was only some internet troll who got off on doing stuff like this to people. Both of you decided to do dinner by yourselves, leaving the usual friend group behind.

Tony and you giggled and flirted in each other’s company at a 50’s themed diner. You shared a cookies and cream milkshake as you threw fries at one another. He held your hand more and escorted you back to his car where both of you saw his front tire punctured and flatted. A quickly written note was attached to the knife in the tire.

“Memorizing you is as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song.”

“Oh fuck no!” Tony became livid. “This is enough. This is seriously fucking enough. This dude is done.”

“Wait, how do you know it’s a guy?” you asked.

“Oh, I bet I fucking know which one too,” Tony scrolled through his phone. You wanted to ask tony what he meant, but you heard Gabe on the other end of the line. Each of them cussed and revved each other up. Next thing you knew, Tony threw back two vodka shots before getting into a car with Gabe and their drug dealer.

“What’s going on?” you asked, more worried than ever. “What did you mean you knew who InfernalHeir was?”

“Hey, don’t worry babygirl,” Tony winked. “He won’t be bothering you anymore after this. I promise.” His warm lips collided with yours and you felt the world melting slowly away like your favorite candle. The car sped away and you silently hoped everything was OK.

The weekend passed without anything from Tony or InfernalHeir. It bothered you, but it also brought you relief. You laughed to yourself remembering a certain wizard’s words: ‘You’re gonna suffer, but you’re gonna be happy about it.’ Ronald Weasley’s words couldn’t be truer. You paced in your room Monday night. You texted Tony and posted another blog post and waited to see who would respond first.

You stared at your computer for a while until you heard your phone text song go off. You felt a sense of relief. You knew tony would text you back. He was right. InfernalHeir wouldn’t bother you again. You unlocked your phone and saw that the newest text was not sent from Tony.

Unknown: You didn’t think it would be that easy to be rid of me, did you?

A dreadful feeling settled in your heart. You knew it was InfernalHeir. It had to be. You turned off your phone and fell asleep. Tomorrow was a new day. Nothing to worry about. Tomorrow would be fine.

First, you heard Tony was in the hospital. Then, Gabe refusing to tell Hillary where he was last Saturday. More unknown texts were sent to your phone.

You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me. You belong with me.

It made your stomach turn. You started to feel trapped. You hadn’t made a single post in three days. Your irl friends understood why. Internet fans asked if you were okay.

Potterhead4Ever: are you okay?

CaptainCronch: Sending good vibes and hugs!

But, someone else texted your phone. The one person that kept on terrorizing you. You saw the unknown number and their text.

Why did you stop posting? Was it something I did?

The anger built up in you like nothing else. You weren’t the type that was easy to anger, but you had enough. Your fingers typed faster than they ever did before. You could feel color rushing your face as you pressed send to InfernalHeir. He responded back immediately.

Unknown: What if we meet? I can explain everything.

You: Why should I give you that chance?

Unknown: Because I love you.

The four words shocked you. It chilled the room and made your heart beat faster than it ever did before. No one ever told you that. You never had a boyfriend. You’ve kissed boys, but never a boyfriend. Your thumbs hovered over your keyboard. Your head seemed like television static. Everything was fuzzy and not a single coherent thought was there. Luckily for you, InfernalHeir texted you first.

Unknown: Please say yes. I don’t want to do anything bad to you. If you don’t say yes, I’m gonna have to resort to desperate measures. Please don’t make me go that far. Look outside. I left you something.

You dropped your phone on your bed. You slowly made your way to the door and opened it. The creaking noises disturbed the stillness of the college dorm room corridor. On your door, there was a single rose. The thorns were not removed and another note was attached to it. In a quick scrawl of handwriting, you read the note.

Every single day Every word you say Every game you play Every night you stay I'll be watching you

You must have been fucking crazy. You considered putting yourself into therapy as you passed the psychology section in the bookstore. It was the only place that made you feel safe enough to meet someone here. Hillary texted you that she and Gabe got into another fight. She wondered what you knew about that particular Saturday night. As much as you wanted to tell your best friend the truth, you had to find a way to cover for Gabe.

You: I promise you he wasn’t with any girls. Him and the guys did something. It had nothing to do with girls.

When you looked up from your phone, you saw Ramsay Bolton approaching you. You felt your heart racing as if your body was telling you to run. He closed the space between you.

“Hello there, babygirl,” he smiled at you. You looked past him.

“Not now, please. I’m meeting someone here,” you said. Ramsay tucked his finger beneath your chin and moved your attention to him.

“I know.” He said. The sudden realization hit you hard.

“You’re InfernalHeir?” you asked. He nodded with a smirk.

“I am.”

You felt your anger and confusion bubbling up inside of you. You wanted to take your nails and scratch his face out. You wanted to ask him why. You wanted to hug him for all of the kind things he would say about you. You wanted to slap him.

“Why?” was all that came out of you. “Why me?”

“I have done some awful things to your boyfriend and you ask me why?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said. Ramsay cocked his eyebrow.

“Oh,” he reacted with a smile on his face. “Tony’s not your boyfriend.”

“No.”

“But you do want one though.”

“What?”

“I’ve read all your posts. Your thoughts. Your dreams. Your silly little heart wants someone to love. My silly little heart wants yours.”

“You think I want you?” Your anger took over your mind. “After everything you’ve said? After everything you’ve done? Tony’s in the hospital!”

“And to think he did that for a girl who doesn’t consider him to be her boyfriend,” Ramsay smirked. He backed you into the wall. His arm blocked you from the exit door. “I’ve heard your cries for love. I can answer them. I can cherish you and love you for all of my days.”

“And if I don’t let you?”

“Then, I’ll take you if I have to. I won’t let anyone else have you. I can’t let that happen, babygirl,” Ramsay’s smile cut you more than it calmed you. Ramsay tilted your head up as his lips brushed yours. You felt something inside of you burn. You moved along with the kiss and deepened it. Ramsay’s passion met yours as he held you there. His fingers entangled in your hair. When Ramsay finally broke the kiss, he took a breath and his eyes dilated when he looked ta you again. “I love you so much. Don’t make me hurt you.”

Ultimate Tag List (People who wished to be tagged in EVERY work I post.)

@angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09 @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen@sleepylunarwolf  @loki-0fasgard @ravenqueenbr

Ramsay Tag List (People who wish to be tagged in everything Ramsay Bolton related)

@boltonblade  @why-so-red @sj-thefan @sunshinesydney @drunkenpoets @antiscocialfanwarrior

If you wish to be added, removed, or switched from any taglists, only ask friend!

#username infernal heir #ramsay #ramsay bolton #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton modern au #ramsay imagine #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay bolton/reader #ramsay bolton x reader #long one shot #creep!ramsay #taylor swift #you belong with me #college au #game of thrones #got #game of thrones imagine #got imagine

[riskeith]

hi darling !

you’re so smart. i’ve watched yt videos where people spend so much money on wishes and tbh i get why. it’s super addicting especially if you have a certain character you want. i did consider it but i know i’ll get hooked like you said so hm. maybe not. and thank you for letting me know i wasn’t aware actually. venti... i want you little funky boy ): hopefully they bring him back ! do you have any character you really want?

girl same sjskjsksks help i wish there was a way to progress adventure rank esp without having to do so much combat... sometimes you just want to hear the amazing lore without having a monster chasing your ass around damn it. dude the BEST function in the game is the statue of the seven and the fact that we can just teleport there? immaculate. oh well! at least your team is super strong now, right? what do you consider when you pick the best weapons to maximize their stats?

go for it! it’s cozy szn right now too perfect for a romance story! that’s so cute though that you got the book. at which part of the story does it cut off?

goddamn school. ruining everything. i’m sure you were amazing at it considering you took it up for so many years!! wish i could’ve seen it 🥺 do you ever consider going back?

i think about recess all the time!! what a blessing we had. remember nap time at kindergarten too? we took that shit for granted istg. now university just tells us to die and we just go along with it lmao.

idk!! i just like mornings better i feel bad if i stay up late and miss the day ): my brother is a avid movie watcher so we watch pretty much everything. we’re huge star wars fans so we’ve been rewatching some of those movies. also soul came out on disney+ the other day so we watched that too. have you seen it? it’s sooooo good i bawled my eyes out the entire time shdkfhfjdkd. i never sleep when i watch movies bc i get so into it, i don’t understand how anyone nods off while watching one. do you do that? the air here is AMAZING. i live in a small town so there isn’t much pollution either. when i’ve traveled to different places i always come back home with a newfound appreciation for our air ahahahah. never taking it for granted. how is it like where you live?

I KNOW STOP hshsyehshsjsh the snuggle up in bed reading fics look is always so funny. it’s so different reading something as a physical book vs e-book/fics. they have different vibes imo. i enjoy both a lot i’m a big reader but the thing i like about fics usually is the descriptive side. i like how fic authors really take the time to paint a perfect picture while some books just. focus on plot mostly. ofc there are exceptions but it’s just a general thing i’ve noticed. are you a reader yourself? and you’re right!!! i mean i read your fics and i’m like wow. give this girl her money!!

come on... pls 🥺 hope at least today you’re getting ur rest. cant wait to hear from u either. love!!

hi hi!! sorry for the late response~ i haven’t been responding to people the past few days fhskdnskdn

watching others spend money can be a way for you to not spend money yourself!! i find it super satisfying to watch them just roll wishes after wishes ahaha. hopefully they will!! and yep i’m holding out for xiao, who is hopefully coming in february (please xiao… please)

yeah HAHAHA in one of the missions i was trying to read what everyone was saying at the same time while trying to fight as well and then i died fhksnsncnsmsm. yes!!!! the statue of seven heals you too in case you didn’t know omg when i discovered that i was like thank u 😭😭 my team is.. def not the strongest it could be but i’m happy with it! as for weapons, i usually just pick the ones that’ll boost their attack, mostly bc i don’t understand what crit and elemental stuff mean hdjsksljdjf. i also look up guides and stuff to see what the ‘pros’ say!

also… the past few days dragonspine has grown on me i can’t believe it cjskdkks. i got my brother to carry me through a mission which unlocked more areas for me and i was actually having fun with it! and i think i’m used to this team now too, so i’m getting through things quicker lmaoooo

i’m pretty sure the first book covers years 1 and 2! so it ends with.… omg first kiss? iconic 😩 omg and doesn’t the start of 3rd year have the montage of bitty updating his vlog saying he’s started dating someone and it just shows him on dates with jack <3333 i love that for them

i think about going back all the time!! but unfortunately biomed keeps me super busy as well so. rip :( but i do learn some dances on my own sometimes!! never ballet tho ahaha altho i really should

omg nap time in kinderrrrr i hated that HAHAHA but i remember we would eat there too? and specifically remember having spaghetti bolognese this one time… yummy cjskmsndks. and yeah uni sucks HAHA for what reason does it have to be like this??

aw nice!! and nope, i haven’t seen star wars (i watched one on a plane once) or soul! my cousin actually just asked about it, and i told her i heard someone (you) say it was really good and they cried ehhehe.

yeahhhh unfortunately sometimes if i’m just not into the movie at all i’ll drift off chskcnksns my attention span can be reaaaaally short sometimes aaaaa but i do try! but other times i just give up and take a nap jdksndk

omg that sounds sooooo good it must be so nice and crisp! i think the air here is pretty good too! i live in a metropolitan area tho, so it’s definitely not as clean as it is in the mountains or in the country

yep i am!! i used to be the biggest reader i would always have a book on me and carry it with me everywhere but then i discovered fics scjdjdnn. fjdjskks thank u i am unworthy of the praise but i appreciate vm 🥺😭💖

sorry for keeping you waiting again!! but i’ve been def been resting and am less tired now ahah. hope you’ve been doing well in the meantime, and happy new year! <3 🎇🎉🥳😘🎆

#marriage anon #wowclunaanswers #long post

[every-hetalia-at-once]

This blog is awesome!! Can I pretty please ask for some USUK?

Okay so I was going to do something seasonal but summer is gross and I just really love Christmas so here have this little Christmas fic :) ((it’s half past two in the morning forgive me))

Arthur scowled as the doorbell rang shrilly through the house, disturbing him as he sat reading in his comfortable armchair in front of the crackling fire.

Actually, this wasn’t exactly true. Arthur had scowled the first time this had happened, and he had been greeted at the door by a group of carol singers.

The second time the doorbell had rung he had been forced from his chosen spot to find Feliciano and Ludwig bearing gifts of Stollen, panettone and pitying looks at the confirmation that he was, once again, spending Christmas Eve alone. They meant well, but damn those two were annoying in their air of bloody contentment.

The third time the doorbell went it was the visit he had been resignedly expecting – his three brothers. This visit went as it did every year – they arrived with a slightly slurred shout of “MERRY CHRISTMAS WANKER” in a ridiculous imitation of an English accent and a group hug that was more suffocating than affectionate, and they left half an hour later with Arthur physically shoving them out the door.

The fourth time it was Francis, Antonio and Gilbert, who appeared to be even more intoxicated than his brothers had been. He simply shared a resigned look with Lovino and Roderich, who were following the three friends from a safe distance. They were presumably there to prevent a repeat of last year when they had decided to become carol singers, which was a doomed plan from the start as the only song they all seemed to know the whole way through was “Fergalicious” and, aside from Antonio, none of them could really sing anyway.

The fifth time it was actual carol singers again.

The sixth it was Francis, Antonio and Gilbert. Pretending to be carol singers. To their credit, though, they also seemed to know Allstar this year. Lovino and Roderich were filming them. Ah, so that was why they had been there.

So no, by the seventh time the doorbell rang Arthur was not scowling. Arthur was ready to bludgeon someone to death with the book he was trying to read. Honestly, who else was there out there who had yet to irritate him tonight? He answered his own question the split second before he met the eyes of the man standing behind the door. Alfred. Of course it was Alfred. And he was wearing a Santa hat.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” shouted the American, holding out a paper plate of brightly coloured iced biscuits, slightly soggy from the snow.

“Oh bloody hell,” muttered Arthur to himself. Then, glaring at Alfred, “What do you want?”

“Uhh… to wish you a Merry Christmas?”

“Obviously. Well, you’ve done that now so I suppose you can be on your way. Good evening,” said Arthur curtly, beginning to close the door.

“Hey, wait! Don’t you want the cookies I made for you?” yelped Alfred, rapidly disappearing behind the door.

Arthur stopped, and poked his head around the door enquiringly.

“You- you made those for me?”

“Well yeah! I was thinking about all those Christmasses we spent together when I was a kid, when you’d make cookies for me and they’d always get burnt so we’d end up just eating the raw cookie dough straight from the bowl and that one time I got salmonella and nearly died but you nursed me back to health and the next year Francis came round and baked the cookies for us so it wouldn’t happen again and he brought Gil and Toni and Liz and Lovi and Roddy came too and we all had turkey and anyway I cant remember where I was going with this but the cookies are for you.”

Alfred’s face was now slightly pink, whether from saying so much without pausing, the cold evening air, or something else.

Arthur was stunned. The fact that America had not only held onto this fond childhood memory (aside from the salmonella part) but had also come to see Arthur with a gift made his heart do an unexpected gymnastics routine in his chest.

“Anyway I should probably g-”

“Do you want to come inside?”

The two men stood there for a moment, Alfred smiling brilliantly and Arthur blushing furiously, before Arthur held the door open wider.

“Well? Are you coming in or not?”, he said, rather aggressively for someone inviting another person into their home. Alfred seemed not to mind though, and handed Arthur the plate of biscuits as he walked inside, wiping his shoes on the mat.

“Tea?”, asked Arthur, looking up from where he was busying himself with the kettle. “Oh do take that ridiculous hat off. It’s rude to wear them inside you know.”

“But it’s Christmas, Arthur! Get into the festive spirit.” grinned Alfred as he sauntered through to the living room. “And tea would be great!”

Arthur smiled into the cupboard as he rummaged for a box of mince pies.

Ten minutes later, Arthur came through to the living room with a cup of tea in each hand and a plate of mince pies balanced precariously between his elbows. He opened his mouth to announce the arrival of himself and the tea, but was amused to find that Alfred had fallen asleep on his sofa. He was exasperated to discover that the thing that had put him to sleep was the book Arthur had been trying to read all evening. Although, he thought, chuckling softly to himself, it was a bloody boring book. He probably would have dozed off himself if it hadn’t been for that damn doorbell. Arthur shook his head, still smiling softly to himself. Pushing aside piles of books and paperwork, he set the tea and pies down on the coffee table and walked up the stairs to the airing cupboard, where with a bit of rummaging he found the blanket Alfred had always slept with when he was younger. When he got back downstairs he carefully placed the blanket over the sleeping man and settled back into his armchair. He sipped his tea and looked at Alfred. He looked so peaceful, just as he had when he was younger. Although when Arthur studied him now, he saw not the face of the child he has been then, but the handsome features of a man. He knew every shade of blue in those beautiful eyes – even now, when they were closed, he could picture them perfectly. That ridiculous bit of hair that stuck up was there as always, and as always Arthur had to restrain himself from walking over and flattening it down.

“God, I love you.”

Arthur gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. Jesus Christ, had he really just said that? It was okay, though. Alfred was asleep. Arthur couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that he had just confessed his love to somebody who hadn’t even heard him, but it was probably for the best, he told himself. He reached for a steadying sip of tea.

“I love you too.”

Arthur jumped, spilling tea everywhere.

“SHIT”, he managed to choke out, before dissolving into a fit of spluttering.

Alfred was off his seat in an instant, looking concerned.

“Hey, dude I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Were you even asleep?”, glared Arthur when he had recovered, doing his best to wipe the tea off his shirt. Or rather, he tried to glare. It was difficult with all the feelings that had obviously decided it was okay to invade his brain and chest.

“Nope, I just wanted to make you think I’d found your book really boring. It was actually alright. Then I got my blanket so I figured I should just go with it, y'know?”

“Of course”, added Alfred, with a grin, “If I hadn’t pretended to be asleep you never would have confessed your undying love for me, so I figure it worked out okay in the end.”

“Wh- I never said that, wanker!”

“I was paraphrasing.”

“You said it too.”

“Yes”, said Alfred, suddenly a little more serious, although he was still smiling, “and I meant it.”

That was it. The moment the feelings of hope, pain, and pure, breathtaking love that had been building in Arthur’s heart since before he had realised what they were finally exploded, and he pulled the taller man down into a kiss. Alfred seemed surprised, but thrilled, and the kiss was as sweet and perfect as he was.

For the first time in many years, Arthur felt safe, and warm, and happy. He also felt suddenly exhausted, and sagged slightly against Alfred. Alfred smiled, and easily lifted him into his arms and placed him on the sofa, where they fell asleep wrapped in the blanket together.

The next morning Arthur awoke to the feeling of soft lips pressed against his forehead, and a sleepy “Merry Christmas, sweetheart”, whispered in his ear. He smiled, happy at last.

Ahhhh I hope this was ok?? And thank you!

- Mod Charlie

#mod charlie #I am going to hate myself tomorrow I can feel it #wow that was my first ever fic #you can probably tell all this I don't know why I'm saying it in the tags #hetalia #fanfiction #usuk #aph usuk #aph America #aph England #human names #Arthur Kirkland #alfred f jones #hetalia fanfiction #christmas #hetalia usuk