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#it really threw me off and they just got to the 'you are the second coming of christ
l4zyb0n35 · 3 days
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HOLD ME AGAIN
ANGST-FLUFF FIC
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PAIRING: Alastor x Reader
SUMMARY: Alastor has been neglecting you recently ever since a fight, and it gets to you.
WARNINGS: GN!reader (i think), usage of Y/N, Emotional Distress, Mental Health Issues, Self Harm but not physical, Depiction of strained communication, Intense emotional scenes, Brief mention of Physical discomfort, Subtle mention of codependency, really good writing skills, Overall angst but major fluff at the end because you will never see me write angst w/o fluff. Lmk if i missed anything.
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Based off this post i posted an hour ago. Damn that means this was written in an hour.
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
WORDS: 1.4k
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*・゚♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
You and Alastor loved each other.
That’s how it all began, too.
the two of you meeting, and at first sight, when those feelings sprawled in your hearts at eye contact,
you guys knew there was a connection.
So, what was happening now?
Well, you were sitting in bed…spacing out into the bayou. You couldn’t sleep because there was a light on, and it usually bothered you whenever you were going to sleep.
You were tired from today though.
But you couldn’t ask Alastor to turn it off, as he kept it on to sit in bed and write his script.
“…Alastor…how long are you going to be…writing your script tonight?” You looked over at him.
Nothing.
He ignored your question. His pen stopped writing for a moment, but nothing more than that as he continued on seconds later.
You felt like a failure.
When did this all start?
Alastor has been ignoring you for a while now- well- i wouldn’t say ignoring you…no, you’ve been feeling useless around him for a while.
It started after you guys had a fight about safety and how you were scared to lose him.
That was the topic.
It was settled, you forgave each other, Although he didn’t seem to forgive you deep down, you just needed to hear it.
And then he just started acting like this.
You hate comparing your relationship from before to now.
Alastor would stay in his office with the light on until he was done so you would sleep.
You would always conversate with Alastor before laying down for slumber.
Alastor would always know whenever you were upset, he would keep hearing about it until you burst.
“Hey.”
You snapped out your thoughts. You turned to Alastor,
“Yeah?”
“…You okay? You just…” He looked at your cheek and then back to your eye contact, “Have a tear down your cheek.”
“…I don’t know-no, it’s nothing.” You stammered out.
“…okay.” He went back to writing.
…You couldn’t stay here.
Quickly, you got up from your bed and walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep your composure as you closed the door and locked it.
You turned off the light,
Laid in the tub,
and slept.
***
You woke up to knocking.
“Y/N? Are you in there?”
Alastor.
You quickly sat up from the tub, “Coming, coming.” You stood up in a haste, ignoring the dizziness in your vision from it, and quickly opened the door.
“You look like a mess.” He said, furrowing his brows.
“I’m surprised you noticed for once.” You snapped back in a mumble, shuffling past him and over to your wardrobe.
“…Y/N.” Alastor said, making you stop in your tracks. “What has gotten into you, lately? You’ve been acting so strange, and now you just show me no manners whatsoever.” He said, stepping into the bathroom. “I expect better from you.”
…That bitch.
You quickly threw something on, (of your choice),
Took Alastor’s pillow, a picnic blanket,
And went off into the bayou.
It was quiet after a moment of entering, which pleased you.
You couldn’t hear the sink running from Al’s daily routine, nor the bustling sounds of the hotel from outside the door.
Only crickets, water, and leaves rustling.
You knew where you were heading, as well.
Alastor used to take you out to picnics in a certain spot a lot.
Before the fight.
And you haven’t gone since.
***
The walk calmed you down enough to settle down into the spot without recalling memories and seeing at the same time.
You set the blanket down, anchoring it with some rocks so the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and sat down in your usual spot, hugging the pillow to your chest as you closed your eyes, and daydreamed.
You were at a picnic with Alastor.
You were eating his mother’s dishes.
You were gossiping about cannibal town drama.
You were dusting off each other’s clothes after chasing each other in the Bayou.
You remember how much bruises and cuts you got from that ridiculous game.
“Y/N? What has gotten into you?” Alastor said from behind you.
You turned around to look at him.
“What do you mean?”
He scoffed, “First the bathroom and now far into the bayou. You could’ve gotten lost.”
You felt guilty now. Great.
“…Maybe if you just leave me alone, you wouldn’t have to worry so much.” You mumbled into the pillow.
He put his hands on his hips, “Y/N, it’s been 11 hours since you left the room to here i guess, how could i not worry.”
11 hours?
Now you felt the intense hunger in your stomach, the weight of your eyelids begging to close, the stiffness of your back.
“…Probably because you haven’t in a while, I supposed.” You said truthfully.
“…You’re acting like a child Y/N.” He said, walking around the blanket to look at you.
“…Can we talk, Alastor?” You said, clutching the pillow tighter.
“I feel like that would be best, yes we may.” He said, setting his cane down and sitting across from you on the blanket.
“…Why do you hate me?” You said, looking into the small lake next to you.
“…Hate you? I could never, why do you say that?” He said, clearly offended.
You held back a sob, “You…you never have conversation with me anymore and w-whenever i start one you just…blow it off…” You tried to keep your tears in as you finished your sentence.
After a moment of deafening silence with the crickets to keep you company, you looked up.
Alastor was frowning.
“…I-I know that’s just one thing, b-but,” You took a deep, shaky breath, “You…you also never check on me you…used to always freak out whenever i was upset, always harass me until i told you what was wrong- but now w-whenever i don’t t-tell you…i don’t know…you j-just blow it off as well…” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“…Y/N…” Alastor called out to you.
You didn’t answer.
“…Y/N…” You felt something block the breeze next to you.
And then, something rubbing your shoulder.
That’s when the dam burst.
You let out a sob sob into his pillow, feeling the relief of releasing all those tears, those breaths, the lump in your throat disappearing.
You cried even more when you didn’t feel warmth on your shoulder anymore.
Or when the breeze was back to blowing on you.
But only for a moment.
“Y/N, it’s cold,” Alastor draped his coat over you, “…Y/N…?”
You looked up at him.
He looked scared.
“…I’m sorry for crying Alastor…I-I just couldn’t hold it in…”
“-No, no,” he cut you off, “No, hey, I want you to let it out, okay?” He sat in front of you, and held his arms out.
You only looked at him, pathetically.
“…Come here, Y/N.”
Another sob broke out as you quickly crawled into his lap, discarding the pillow stained with your tears.
“…I’m so sorry Y/N…I’m so sorry i let all of this happen. It was never…never meant to be this way.” He said with an ache in his voice.
You only cried more at that.
And he only rubbed more at that.
He rubbed your back as sobs racked through it, he kissed your head as aches raged in it, and he only held you tighter every time he felt like you were going to slip away, recalling the memories he never thought would bring them here.
“…Am i making you uncomfortable, Alastor.”
“…I’m just uncomfortable with myself right now, darling.”
You squeezed him tighter.
“…I’m sure you’re hungry, no?” He sighed, picking up his cane as he stood up with and exhausted you in his arms.
He tapped it once, and both the blanket and pillow were held between your bodies, his jacket back over his body as well.
��Let’s go get some left overs.”
***
As the two of you arrived back to your room, Alastor set you down into the bed, putting the blanket and pillow away, and then walked back over to you.
“I’m going to get you a meal, okay?” He picked up your hand and kissed the palm of it.
“Don’t um…forget to smile.” You said just below a whisper, “…You aren’t smiling.”
He smiled softly.
“I’ll be right back.”
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END NOTES: If you cried, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! If you didn’t cry, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! This fic is just pent up rage from a manga i just read that had no happy ending and my life in general , but that’s okay. I don’t have anything to say. Sorry it’s short xx
-Lynn Lazybones
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MASTERLIST LINK
TAGLSIT: @deafsignifcantother (comment to be apart of it ^^)
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eriexplosion · 15 hours
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Yesterday everyone was posting their feelings on TBB. I'm glad I waited, because there's a lot swirling around. Cut for negativity again.
I was introduced to The Bad Batch in August 2022 and fell instantly in love. The characters, the story, the complex family dynamics, they all spoke to me. I wasn't even a Star Wars fan but I went through and devoured The Clone Wars, Rebels, The Mandalorian, all of it. I threw myself into this world and adored every second of it. I must have rewatched season one over five times before season two even came out.
When season two premiered I loved it. Every Tuesday night I stayed up until the episode drop and devoured it immediately. I looked ahead at the schedule and took days off work for the double episodes, for the big Crosshair episodes - he was my favorite early on and season two only made that grow. But season two also really brought Tech into my radar even more. I had always liked him, but here he was shining. The Crossing really solidified it, as an autistic person. I'd never heard someone describe the difference in processing so succinctly before, so clearly, and it spoke to me like very little had. Here was a character that was like me. Here was a character that I needed when I was an undiagnosed child, someone that would have made me feel like I had at least some way of describing my differences.
Then, well. He died. It was an affecting scene, but it felt out of nowhere, it felt unfinished. Tech didn't even get the climax of the episode. He just fell into the clouds, the Batch grieved for a few minutes, and then the plot steamrolled right along.
I didn't believe it, not after the mad scientist presented his goggles and claimed not to salvage anything else. It seemed like such an obvious fake out. The longer I sat with it the less satisfying it felt. It felt so brushed over, so pointless, all for a mission that they accomplished nothing on. Then came the social media circus. Again and again his fall was shoved in our faces on Twitter, demanding we stream it. TikToks were made that were so out of touch they felt like parodies, the wound ripped open again and again, and I thought surely there had to be a purpose to it.
So I waited for season 3 as interviews were done that seemed to almost intentionally avoid calling him dead. As tweets were made promising we'd be so fulfilled if we could only see who was onscreen in the mid-season! (A tweet that immediately garnered dozens of people hoping it referred to Tech, all without a single comment to try and quell the speculation.) It felt already like we were being toyed with, but I thought it had to be for a reason or a purpose. More weirdly vague discussions went up about his Sacrifice, his Fall, his Anything But Death, even as everyone insists that it was so meaningful, the way he died on a mission that accomplished nothing. Jokes were made around Valentines Day.
He Fell For You, get it?
The first official use of killed went up on the databank right after the trailer, on Hunter's page of all places. The first time the interviews used dead was the Friday before the premier. It all felt too late, theories had already grown for months by that point.
Season 3 finally came and I waited up for every episode drop just like I did for season 2, hoping for him to come back or at least for him to be properly grieved, since we had barely a couple of minutes in Plan 99 before it was swept away for the next plot point. Surely Tech's impact deserved an episode of focus, if he were really gone.
The previously on plays his last words twice. But then we skip months into the future. We don't see Crosshair find out the news - even though Tech died on a mission to retrieve him. We don't watch Omega grieve. She barely seems to notice she's missing a brother. We got a brief allusion in episode two. It took three episodes to even mention his name in passing. Five episodes in everyone got their chance to look sad about him, but only for a few seconds and only when his skills were relevant. Compared to the gorgeous callback to Mayday in the same episode, it felt shallow. He had to have been more important than this didn't he?
Episodes 6 & 7 felt like maybe there was a reason. We see a new masked assassin that gets extra focus, who got put through a series of Tech-adjacent situations, whose beef with Crosshair was just a little too personal, who survived longer than all the rest but stayed masked. Rex talks about losing brothers, but Hunter says nothing about the brother they lost. I hoped it all meant something, that this was the reason that he felt so much like he was thrown away, so that he could come back in.
More one off mentions that only really come up when it's about how useful Tech would have been. More poking at the wound that still felt open and raw because we'd never gotten any closure. The closest we get is a single scene in episode eleven, so late in the season and so brief that I thought that couldn't possibly be it.
CX-2 comes back, and he talks like Tech. He's still not unmasked. I really need him to be something because otherwise what was it all for?
The most emotion comes in Juggernaut, from Phee. Its a highlight because it actually feels like it was about him, like he mattered as a person. It's episode twelve and we finally talk about him like a person. We never saw her get the news either.
Episodes thirteen and fourteen pass without any mentions at all. We're running out of time. Episode 15 hits and we get one raw one from Crosshair that Clone Force 99 died with Tech. It's the first time they directly say he's dead in so many words. It's the season finale. CX-2 is a nobody it turns out, and he dies faceless. Everyone gets a happy ending and after over a year of wondering if we'd ever get closure, it turns out Tech's just dead. But look how happy everyone else is!
Everyone gets to grow old. Except the autistic one of course. He's just dead and it hardly feels like it mattered at all. Did you know Wrecker and Hunter don't use his name once in season three? Omega and Echo mention him once each. Crosshair twice, only once with any emotion behind it. Phee tops the charts at three mentions, two by name and one by nickname. We see his goggles four times. I kept count.
There was never a bigger plan, this was just all he was worth. We spent two seasons on Crosshair's absence. We spent a whole episode dealing with it when Echo decided to go with Rex. Tech dies though and all his life amounted to was a handful of mentions when his skills would have been useful, some shots of his broken goggles, and endless cooing out of the text over how meaningful his sacrifice was. Too meaningful to take back, of course, even as Ventress is brought back from her own sacrifice.
I had really, really thought that this time autistic life would be worth more than autistic death. That a character that felt so carefully handled couldn't have just been thrown away for shock value, barely to even be mentioned again, his memory used to string us along to keep us watching. If you added up every mention and shot through season 3 it might actually clock in at less time than was spent on Mayday's send off.
I'm an adult. I'll survive, though the sting of seeing yet another character like me used as a stepping stone for everyone else's happy ending will take a while to fade. But I think about the child I used to be who needed a character like Tech. And I think about how it would have felt to actually get that only to watch him die a handful of episodes later as a side note to his family's story, barely even mentioned again. How badly it would have hurt, how deep it would have scarred.
I'm not that child anymore. But there are a lot of autistic kids out there that are the same as I used to be, and they're learning for the first time that people like us don't get happy endings. Instead they die so that everyone around them can rise up, and they might even get mentioned a few times. But don't worry. Everyone will tell you how meaningful and special it is and how delusional you were to ever hope for anything else.
The Bad Batch still means a lot to me. I think it always will. I love the characters. I love the family, and all the potential they had. But the sting of not belonging in this happy ending is there, and it's deep. It's been a long time since I trusted a show. It'll be a long time before I risk trusting another. And I hope that the autistic kids trying to learn how to close their hearts off behind new walls are doing okay.
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abbu0414 · 3 days
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A Switch (2009!Ghost X reader)
Guy this is just a shit post to let you know I'm alive (not actually bc I'm in college and finals are literally in a week) I'm sorry for being so inactive. Also please give me suggestions in my requests so I can get back into writing!
Word Count: 484
♪Song: House Song by Searows♪
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Women practically threw themselves at his feet. It was always the same way too. They would stumble up to him at the bar while he was silently celebrating with his team for their most recent successful mission, ask what he was doing tonight and if they could sneak a peek at the face behind the mask. Of course he would dismiss them and send them back off to their group of friends, returning to his team after doing so. He didn’t know why but it upset him. The first time it happened to him, he was surprised. Women wanted him? But he was so scary and brutting…to each their own I guess. But the more it happened, the more he realized the women wanted one thing. Him. Not like him as a whole person, but just a part of him. The part that didn’t have a soul, just the empty, hollow casing of it. No one asked his name, what he does for a living, why he wears the mask, not even what his favorite color was. Not that he’d even answer those questions, but no one ever tried. Which is why he would avoid the bars as much as possible. If he did go, he would stick to the walls and corners of the bar. 
One day you walk in. He notices you but instantly looks away. Not in shyness, but in hopes you wouldn’t notice his 6’4 figure, or the infamous ghost mask. He watches you stand at the bar looking around. The bar lights light up your face, illuminating your cheek bones and your cute nose. The way that your eyelashes batted in quick increments is so captivat- ‘Ghost you’re getting sidetracked, get it together.’ You quickly look at your phone and see no notifications. 20 minutes pass, then thirty minutes. He sees you hang your head and pick it back up to ask the bartender for a drink. He watches your lips and sees you mouth the words ‘double’. You get your drink and take a big gulp, letting the drink warm your throat. 
You look around and make eye contact with him. You begin hesitantly walking towards him and he starts to roll his eyes. 
Here we go again, how should I steer this one away? He thinks to himself. He watches you walk closer stick out your hand to shake and-
“Hi, I’m y/n. I just got stood up for a first date and I could really use a friend right now so I feel less shitty about it. What’s your name?” You think for a second “And your favorite color.”
Oh. Oh.
He hesitates to answer, but a switch flips in him.
“You can call me Ghost. And asking me my favorite color is too personal of a question for me, but let me buy you another drink for getting stood up.” 
He liked you already.
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AITA for keeping up a grudge long after the issue was resolved?
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (To find this post later bc I usually forget the emoji I use)
I (24ftm) am in a pretty decent sized fandom discord server. One day this girl joined (age unknown). I got bad vibes from her the second she joined, but I didn't say anything bc I had no reason to feel that way
Well a few days, maybe a week goes by and we're all talking about ocs. It goes something like this:
her: I have an oc that's *insert concept here!*
someone else: Oh that's cool! I have an oc that's *insert related concept*
me: really? I have an oc that's *inert another related concept*
This is how almost every convo in the server goes, we build off each other in conversation and just let things snowball as long as they're semi-on topic.
Well, girl comes out of nowhere and says "I have a hope you all shut up"
Other guy told her she was being mean, then I changed the convo by asking the other guy about his oc. Ten/Fifteen minutes later, long past the relevance of that issue, she pings other guy to 'explain' herself by saying "I felt like they were making me…" (Quote taken per verbatim from the server, she never explains how we made her feel this way)
Now I'm not debating the guilty party in THAT scenario, I know who it is. That's just the origin story for the past month of Passive Aggressiveness I've thrown at this girl.
To this day I will not talk to her, I slowly ease my way out of convos if she joins them, if I'm goofing off in a channel and she joins in I will literally wait 30 minutes for the channel to be deemed dead so i can go back to my topic without seeming outright mean, and recently I made a jab directly at her. We have a channel for the "one word at a time" game, were you say a word, someone responds with the first word that word makes them think of, and so on.
Well the girl, who has properly interacted in that game before so she KNEW the rules, threw out a whole ass title of smth. So I responded with "Immoderate", which basically mean too much.
I might be the asshole bc that was petty, and I have been VERY petty for the last month or so, but in my defense she hasn't once apologized and she isn't exactly playing nice with me either so it's not like I'm ripping into some poor girl who's already fixed her mistake.
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trashcanfanfics · 1 day
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Heyyyy can I get a fuckin uhhhhhhhh queer platonic Jason x gn!reader. Jason taking care of y/n who has chronic pain. Ficlet or headcannon plz. Oh and a medium fries!
This was specifically curated for me
"Jayce, I'm fine, really." You'd been sitting in a position for too long and got up to a loud pop of your back before a sharp flash of pain dug into your hip, your partner stood up. He set aside his book before coming over to you.
"Don't lie, I heard the wince." He gently, but firmly had you lay back on the couch where you had been sitting. "Do you want a heat pad or an IcyHot patch? Is it your back or somewhere else?" He gave you no room to argue, or really answer, before he was off to find your pain medication and a soft pillow to cradle you. You huffed and winced again as another hot knife of pain dug into the marrow of your bones.
Ever since you and Jason had officially become partners, he'd been very observant of your pain and could even see past your most toughest of facades. It was one thing you loved about him.
He reentered the room with a glass of water and the medication, handing them both to you and helping you sit up, kneeling next to the couch. You felt a flash of irritation at this. You hated feeling helpless. It made you feel weak or that other people saw you as a burden.
"I can sit up on my own." You tried to prove as much when another shot of pain, one more severe, had you falling back as Jason caught you. He laid a had on your upper back, and the other on your stomach, carefully lifting you back up.
"Can you?" He asked with a slight smirk. You glared and threw the pill into your mouth and gulped the water that hadn't got thrown on you when you fell. "You know you don't have to do that."
"What?" You looked at him, still irritable.
"Act like you're burdening me." Damn. He shot right through your defenses. "You're not, and just because it's a bad pain day doesn't mean you're any less independent." You looked down at your t shirt in frustration, then to his hand still on your stomach.
"It doesn't feel like it." Your back popped in several places as he put the pillow at your back and used the fluffy decorative one to cradle your head. He kissed your forehead and stood back up. Jason left the room without saying anything and came back a few seconds later with a heat pack that he helped press against your lower back.
"Trust me on it, then." He grabbed his book from the coffee table before lifting your legs slowly, sitting in their place and set them back on his lap. His attention went back to his book and you went back to scrolling on your phone.
...
"I originally got up because I needed to pee."
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photogirl894 · 3 days
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Sorry for not specifying, lol. Those were from the angst prompt list! (this is the person who requested the Rex one-shot)
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I can most certainly do that for you, anon, and thank you for specifying the list!! 😊
**Slight spoilers for TBB s3 ep6**
"Bodyguards"
4. "Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you?"
16. "It's my job to protect you."
Pairing: Rex x fem reader
***
Rex had assigned you to be a bodyguard for Senator Riyo Chuchi after her own guards had been lost in an assassination attempt, especially now that she was neck-deep in her support of the Clones. She was going to need someone to watch her and she didn't want to risk anymore of her own security detail, so Rex entrusted you with that task, which you were glad to undertake. You and Riyo were similar in the fact that you both weren't Clones, but supported them in everything, fighting for their right to have a place in the galaxy. Though, after the Emperor declared the Clones were dangerous and would be replaced by his own order of stormtroopers, you knew that you and Chuchi had a lot ahead of you to help protect the Clones.
Soon after, Rex really began working hard on improving his underground network of Clones to fight back against the Empire while you helped Senator Chuchi from the inside. Neither side had it easy by any means. You and Rex kept each other informed of everything going on. He was always checking in on you, making sure you were safe. You were important to him, just as he was important to you. There was always something unspoken between the two of you that you honestly were a bit surprised hadn't been brought to light yet, given the constant danger you both were in. It didn't matter, though. You both had work to do and lives were at stake, so any feelings would have to wait.
A few months later, Chuchi was going to meet with Senator Avi Singh, the former Separatist Senator, and both you and Rex were going to be at that meeting for extra security. It wasn't long into the meeting that Rex got word something was wrong and then suddenly, there was a beeping noise in the room. A thermal detonator was thrown through the window of the room and Rex jumped into action. He caught the detonator and threw back out the window, nearly seconds before it exploded.
He had saved both Senators' lives, but seeing him throw himself into danger with such a close call made your heartrate spike with fear. He could've been killed just then had he only waited a few seconds more. Before you could say anything, he ran off to pursue the assassin while you got Senator Chuchi and Senator Singh to safety.
Some time later, he met back up with you, reporting that the assassin got away. Once you saw he was all right, you suddenly couldn't hold back.
"What were you thinking, jumping in front of the grenade like that?" you questioned him.
"I was protecting the Senators. It's my job to protect them," he stated. Then he looked intently into your eyes. "It's my job to protect you, as well."
You stepped closer to him. "I don't need you to protect me...and even so, I wouldn't want you to protect me by risking your life like that."
"I'm a soldier. It's what I do," he said.
"I don't accept that," you replied, laying your hands on his cheeks. "Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you?"
Rex's lips parted in surprise at the question, his eyes searching yours, but then he turned his gaze away, guilt etched in his features on his face as he whispered your name.
With a gentle nudge, you made him turn his head back to look at you and you stated, "Yes, we're soldiers, but we're also both human. That doesn't mean our lives are nothing to just throw away for someone else's sake. We both deserve to live...and to love."
Then, with those words having been spoken, you brought your lips to his and kissed the Captain softly and lovingly, enough to get your point across and hopefully not scare him away. After seeing him nearly have a brush with death, you were willing to take a chance at admitting your feelings. The time for waiting was over.
The sensation of your joined lips sparked a fire within the Captain that only been just an ember for so long. His arms were around you so quickly and tightly, nearly crushing you against him, and he deepened the kiss almost right away, seemingly wanting to lose himself with you.
After a passionate moment, he broke away, his breath heavy. "I know I said I was protecting the Senators," he said, "but all I could think about was you. I...I didn't want to see you hurt."
"I don't ever want to see you hurt either, Rex," you said back. "Please don't ever do something so risky like that again. We need to get through all this together."
He took your hands in his and gently kissed your fingers. "Together."
Photogirl894's Angst prompts
Photogirl894's 1,300 Followers celebration fics
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i am halfway through YMATA and these two have not even met yet but this has been all i could think of
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samonmain · 30 days
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What’s insane about the challenges like the treadmill one is that the second you hear it is sounds so intimidating (for most people) and as hard as they’re making it someone is going to win some crazy fit athlete in that room is going to place first that’s insane to me
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bmpmp3 · 9 months
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and by the way if i see one more story with themes of not fitting in with ten thousand white outcast main characters and then the only non white character in the entire plot is a black cop minor antagonist i am going. to intervene
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sewerfight · 5 months
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when I was around twelve I used to sit at the family computer and send hatemail to a white french dude named Jacques who was a self proclaimed communist on Tumblr. This was back in the day when you didn't need a blog to send anon hate. I had no real beef with him but I just didn't like his tone. used to send him "SHUT UP Jacques" periodically. and he'd answer every single one of my asks like "who is this?? show your face or I'll fucking kill you" and I'd be like "now now, that doesn't make sense, jacques" all haughty and he'd get so fucking mad at me. One time he posted a selfie and I sent him an ask claiming I was a psychologist and that his hair parting suggested that he wasn't a communist at all. and he took it deliriously serious and went off on a 2,000 word rant. I can remember going to stay at my grandparents over that weekend, so I didn't even respond to the rant until I came back. I could've chosen to end it there, but when I returned, I sent him another ask which was like "psychologist here again: if you were a communist your hair parting would be in the middle. evenly distributed. All behavioural signs point to someone who doesn't take their own values seriously." and he went ballistic. really swearing at me. all caps type beat. he never turned the asks off, btw. which always made me wonder if he didn't know how to, or if he didn't want to cause he was convinced he was fighting a war, and this action would ensure he lost it. anyway this went on for weeks until one day I completely forgot about him like he was some kind of childhood imaginary friend I'd conjured up in my loneliness. but yesterday I happened to recall the whole scenario, because my buddy was like "remember when you were twelve and I came over to your house, and you showed me on the computer how you'd been terrorizing this random French guy for days on end. And you were laughing like fucking crazy. and I said it wasn't funny because he probably had problems, and you were like 'oh.' and you looked a bit guilty for a second, but then you went and got a grapefruit from the kitchen and threw it out of the second story window at my kid brother, who was playing in the street, and then you started laughing again?" Well. when she put it like that, needless to say I felt bad. so Jacques if you're out there I'm sorry I was such a little shit. you had totally normal hair, and you only wanted people to share stuff. If it's any consolation I know every day of my life that I'm probably going to hell for the sick things I have done
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snoopyearss · 1 month
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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rowarn · 3 months
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HYBRID!AU PART 2
part one | part two | part three (coming soon!!!)
(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!
cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho &lt;3
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The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath. 
No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught. 
Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe. 
At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable. 
But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty �� the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster. 
A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.
“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”
You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.
“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly. 
You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion. 
You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”
That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner. 
You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade. 
You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home. 
You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly. 
“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”
Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift! 
But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.
You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.
The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street. 
With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it. 
A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon. 
You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house. 
And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.
This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.
You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you. 
Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye. 
It starts to become lonely when he leaves.
You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows. 
Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet. 
You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.
Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon. 
Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him. 
Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself. 
You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met. 
But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark. 
With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.
The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next. 
A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell. 
Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon. 
One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”
The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist. 
He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.
Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side. 
You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.
“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”
“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”
The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”
“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”
The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”
When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”
“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.
Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”
Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”
“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”
You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.
The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in. 
You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”
“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”
You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure. 
He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”
“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.
“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”
You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.
“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”
He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it. 
“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.
“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”
You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.
But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore. 
It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.
Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably. 
And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint. 
He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work. 
You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.
You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest. 
“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”
“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”
“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home. 
You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.
Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.
Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.
But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.
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do not modify or repost to third party sites. reblogs appreciated!
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gloxk · 6 months
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hate fuckin w aot plz🙏🏿 like uh what position would they fuck you in when they mad?
Fuck me like you mad at me baby.
(Eren Y. Connie S. Armin A.)
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A/N: BEAT THAT COOCHIE UP LIKE YOU MAD AT A BITCH! Sorry it took so long to get your request. But let’s just all agree Eren, Connie, Armin are the big three. I’m not arguing with anyone. It’s true. NOT PROOF READ! 17+
Synopsis: Aot men fucking you after an argument!
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༺Connie༻
—————ON DA WALL.
Connie isn’t going to show you he’s mad, but baby you gonna feel it.
And oh boy you done did it today. After he seen you flirt with a guy…jeez. You really got him walking around in circles trying to not scream at the top of his lungs.
You not going to know he’s mad for a while, after an argument and you THINK everything cooled down it hasn’t. He’s still pissed.
Props to him for controlling his anger (Eren could never.) But when you start sweet talking him again that’s when it comes out.
When you get to rubbing on his chest and start saying “I’m so sorry baby, lemme make it up to you. Please.” with that little whine in your voice…oh best believe he gonna make you sorry for real.
He gives you a small grin and says “Oh for real? You wanna make it up to me?” You should have never even offered because now look at you. Against the kitchen wall crying out how sorry you are.
“You sorry ma? How sorry?” The harshness of his voice craving down on you. You couldn’t even spit out a comprehendible sentence just “Yes mmm so sorry!”
He was satisfied with your sorry, after the second round. I mean after all you did offer…
༺Eren༻
—————FROM DA FRONT.
Now, Eren he’s rough rough when he’s mad. Like oh lord..pray he don’t get his hands on you.
Please run while you can, because after he got you alone you can’t run.
This was especially the case after he found out you followed a guy from your work place, the same guy who continuously flirted with you.
Don’t ask him how he knows, he just does.
“I ain’t dumb mama. So go ahead and do as I asked.” The request was so simple, just unfollow him. But the principle pissed you off, you never told him who to follow and who too not. So you refused. Wrong answer…
Because that refusal sent him through the roof. He just laughed while shaking his head. He tossed you on the bed with no regards.
You never been fucked so hard in your life…The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust he gave you it was ridiculous. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Eren spat out.
Your poor neighbors, the surely heard the madness that was occurring in your bedroom. But Eren did not give a single fuck.
He had your hair twisted in his fingers while he watched you block ole boy on everything single app you had. “Nuh uh. you ain’t done yet. Block him on spotify.” You were going to learn not to go seeking attention from anyone that wasn’t him.
“Nobody’s better than me mama. You should know better than that.”
༺Armin༻
————— BENT OVA.
You would never expect Armin to act the way he acts when he’s MAD.
Of course he got upset with you before but never something that made you change your view on him.
He always tried to be understanding, always listening to what you had to say and what was wrong. But, today was a little different.
He got so mad that you commented on how his friend looked good. He took it as you wanted his friend, but that wasn’t your intention at all.
“Ah, I see. Well just how good did he look y/n?! Why don’t you just tell him how much you want him to fuck you!” His insecurities were really starting to show. But damn, he just look so fucking hot with his button up shirt slightly undone, and his hair sticking to face. His eyes widened, it was a sexy sight. Armin could tell how turned on you were getting from him slightly raising his voice.
“Fuck—y/n. Stop looking at me like that.” The threw his keys on the table while shaking his head. Armin couldn’t look at you while your hand traveled up his shirt rubbing his abdomen. You were making it so difficult for him to be mad at you right now. Especially since you started begging for him to calm down and let you make him feel better.
The small tugs at his shirt just really got him going. He immediately bent you over on the couch, throwing your clothes everywhere. “Can’t even look at you. So fucking filthy.”
You tried to move away from him pounding your insides, hoping to get a break but no. “What the fuck did I tell you about that shit? Just fuckin take it.” Sluts didn’t deserve a break. They didn’t get that courtesy.
Eventually his hatred turned into love and he started spilling out how much he loved you while he was close to cumming. “I love you so much.” & “You mean the world to me.” & “Wanna make you a mommy.”
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Ah! tysm for 400!
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fxllfaiiry · 11 months
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❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me
★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.
★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.
★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet
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Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.
You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 
He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 
Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 
“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 
“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 
“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 
“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully
“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 
“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 
This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 
He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.
He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.
He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 
Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 
He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.
Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 
In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.
He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.
But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 
He slept like a baby that night. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 
“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 
“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 
“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 
He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  
Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 
“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 
“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”
“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 
“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”
“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 
You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.
“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 
“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 
“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 
You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  
“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 
You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 
Positive. You were pregnant. 
“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 
“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 
“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 
“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 
“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 
“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 
“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.
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daintcas · 1 month
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breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !
your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.
'Where are you'
'Answer me.'
'I'm coming to your house'
'We're going to talk about this'
swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.
he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.
everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.
the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.
his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.
"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.
"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.
he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."
"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.
"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.
"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.
as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.
"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.
it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."
the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
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Two Normal Arms
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Synopsis: when Peter breaks his arm, he notices he gets a lot of attention from you. So much attention that he prolongs the broken arm as long as he can
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Peter had a strict no texting while swinging rule.
That rule was broken one night on patrol during a particularly heated back and forth text conversation with Ned over whether chili was a soup or an entirely different category of food. Peter didn’t feel like waiting until he got home to respond, so he texted with one hand while he shot webs with the other. His eyes were glued to his phone as he went to grab a web that wasn’t anywhere close to where he thought it was. He went crashing to the ground, landing right on his right arm. He heard the crunch loud and clear and let out a little whimper. Peter peeled himself off the pavement and pulled his mask off to look at his arm.
“Well that’s not good.” He mumbled when he saw the curve in a place his arm didn’t typically curve.
He knew there was no way he could swing home with the arm but he was too far to walk. He looked around and realized he was in your neighborhood. He’d been to your place once before when Tony first bought you an apartment and wondered if he could find it again by memory. He ran up and down the block until he spotted a window with a light on near the top floor of a building twice the size of Peters. He could see a little Iron Man flag in the window and took a leap of faith that that was your apartment. He cradled his arm to his chest and gingerly climbed the side of the building until he reached the window. He used his head to knock on the window and sighed in relief when he saw you running to open it.
“Peter? What are you doing up here?” You whispered.
“I’m sorry. I would never bother you at home but I got hurt really badly and I can’t swing.” Peter winced and held up his arm. You could see exactly where the break was and put a hand over your mouth.
“Oh my God. Come in.” You said as you wrapped an arm around him and helped him inside. You helped Peter sit down on your couch before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
“Let me see this.” You said and gently moved his hand away from his arm. It was bent in an awkward way and resembled an “s”, something you didn’t know arms could do.
“Is it bad?” Peter asked you.
“One second.” You smiled sweetly and calmly walked into the next room. When you returned, you had a forced smile on your face.
“It’s not bad.” You answered him.
“You went over there to gag gagged, didn’t you?”
“I did. I’m sorry.” You cringed. “Broken bones gross me out.”
“Oh shit. You think it’s broken?” Peter asked and held the arm up. It limply hung in the air and you gagged again.
“Peter, honey, it looks like a fish hook.”
“Yeah. That’s probably not good, right?” He asked as he looked at it.
“I need to get you to a hospital.” You decided and grabbed your car keys.
“A hospital? That won’t be necessary. There’s no need for all that fuss. Can’t we just wrap it up and call it a day?” Peter laughed nervously.
“I don’t think so. I can put bandaids on your other cuts but this needs to be looked at by a real doctor.”
“You said you’ve seen every season of Greys Anatomy right? Can’t you just put on an episode and do what they do?”
“All they do is have sex during work hours. We can’t do that right now.” You shook your head as you threw your coat on. Peter stopped panicking for a second and felt his face heat up.
“But later?” He asked. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and set your keys down.
“Hang on. We gotta get you out of those clothes.”
“Really? Now?” Peter gulped and grabbed his shirt with his free hand.
“Well we can’t get checked out as Spiderman without the doctors seeing this pretty face.” You teased and cupped his chin before walking towards your room.
“Oh. Right.” He blushed and touched his chin.
“I’ll grab some of my stuff.” You called from your room. You returned shortly with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Peter pressed the button on the center of his suit and shimmied out of it before making eye contact with you. You gulped and quickly turned around to give him some privacy. Peter blushed and stood up to shake the suit onto the floor. He gingerly stepped into the pants and pulled them up with one hand. When it came to the hoodie, he knew there was no way he could put it on with one arm.
“Um….” He said as he struggled to get his head in the hoodie.
“You need help?” You asked over your shoulder.
“Yes please.”
You laughed and turned around to help Peter get dressed. You pulled his head through the opening and laughed when his messy hair stuck straight up.
“Thank you.” Peter smiled shyly as you fixed his hair.
“Anytime.” You smiled back.
“I kinda hate that your pants fit me.” He said sheepishly and looked down at the pants you had given him.
“Why? I think you look great in my clothes.”
“Oh. Well thank you.” He blushed. “You’d probably look great in mine.”
“I don’t know if I have the muscles to fill out your suit.” You sighed and nodded towards his discarded suit.
“It doesn’t have to be the suit. You’d look good in just my T shirt.”
“Just your T shirt?” You asked coyly, making Peter go bright red.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly explained.
“We can put your theory to the test later. Let’s get your arm looked at first.” You said and pulled him towards the door. Peter gulped and made it all the way to the car before stopping in his tracks.
“I can’t go to the hospital.” He blurted. You stopped and looked at him and we’re supposed to see the embarrassed look on his face as he cradled his arm.
“Why not?” You asked him as you put your hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at your hand before looking into your eyes and sighing.
“My aunt would never be able to afford it with her new job.” He admitted. “We’re barely making rent as it is. I can’t put this on her.”
“So don’t.” You shrugged. “Put it on my dads card.”
“I can’t just charge my medical bills to your dad.” Peter laughed uncomfortably.
“Sure you can. He won’t even notice. And if he asks about the card, I’ll just tell him I was shopping.” You insisted and pulled Peter towards your car.
“I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head and stayed where he was.
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Actually, I’m forcing. Get in the car.” You insisted as you opened the passenger door. You playfully pushed him into the car and buckled his seatbelt for him. You then climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.
“Thank you.” He smiled shyly when you looked over at him.
“Of course. You can trust me, Peter. I’m your friend.” You smiled back and started to drive.
“Right.” His nodded as his smile faltered a little at the word “friend” but he didn’t say anything. By the time you pulled up to the hospital, Peter was in bad shape. His arm was swelling and causing him more pain than he had ever felt. You opened his door and helped him out of the car, feeling the way he was barely able to hold himself up.
“Hey, Y/n?” Peter winced and held on tight to you.
“Yeah, Peter?”
“Do you think you could lift someone my size?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Because I’m about to pass out.” He said right before collapsing onto the ground.
When Peter woke up later in his hospital bed, he felt a whole lot better. So much better, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the giant blue cast on his arm. He didn’t know if it was the morphine he had been given or fact that you were sitting at his bedside with your hand that was keeping him pain free.
“Hey, Peter.” You smiled softly at him and brushed the hair off his forehead. Peter sat up a little in his bed and smiled back.
“So pretty. You look nothing like your dad.” He said sleepily.
“What was that?” You laughed even though you had definitely heard him.
“Want jello.” Peter said and licked his dry lips. You held his cup of water to his lips and helped him drink as the doctor came in.
“Oh, good. He’s awake.” The doctor said.
“Woah. What happened?” Peter asked ad he noticed his cast.
“We had to do surgery on your arm to set the bone back into place. You’ll be in a cast for the next six to eight weeks.”
“I didn’t know your favorite color so I picked blue. I hope that’s okay.” You explained sheepishly.
“Blue is great. Thank you.” Peter smiled at you as he slowly felt more with it.
“It’s a good thing your girlfriend brought you in when she did. You had free fluid in your arm. It could’ve been much worse if you hadn’t come in right away.” The doctor told him.
“Oh. She’s not my-“
“Thank, doctor. Is there anything we should do now?” You cut him off as you turned to the doctor.
“He’s safe to bring home. Just keep the arm elevated and don’t get it wet. I can prescribe some pain meds as well.”
“Thank you. And could we get some jello too please?” You requested.
“No problem. I’ll be right back with that.” The doctor smiled and left the room.
“You broke your wrist, elbow and radius bone. Which I just found out is the bone in between your wrist and elbow. Who knew it had a name? But that’s why the cast goes so high.” You explained to Peter once you were alone.
“Damn. That’s a lot of bones. No wonder it hurts.” He said and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It didn’t actually hurt that bad, but he liked it when you were worried about him.
“Oh no. It does? Can I do anything?” You asked and brushed his hair back again. Peter blushed and smiled softly as he looked into your concerned eyes.
“Just keep holding my hand, please. It helps with the pain.” He said and faked a cough for added measure. You fell right for it and squeezed his hand.
“It’s gonna be okay, Peter. I won’t leave your side. But do you want me to call your aunt?”
“No, this will just freak her out. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
“Okay. You could crash at my place tonight if you want. I’ll drive you home tomorrow so we can tell her together. I wrote down everything the doctor said since you were still knocked out.”
“Wow. Thank you.” Peter smiled in appreciation when you showed him the list you had made. You smiled back and put the list down on his bedside table before looking at him. Peter was gazing at you intently because he could tell you had something on your mind.
“I like the color you picked.” Peter said to cut the silence.
“Oh, thanks. I was gonna go with red but I always thought you looked best in blue.” You said without looking at him. Peter blushed at the casual compliment and tilted his head to get you to look at him. You finally did look into his eyes and smiled softly.
“Peter, could I….”
“Yes?” Peter sat up eagerly at your question.
“Sign your cast?” You finished your sentence and he sat back in his bed.
“Oh, sure.” He agreed. You pulled a sharpie out of your bag and wrote your name on the front of Peters cast. Peters face reddened when he saw how big you had written it and he looked at his cast proudly.
“First one.” You smiled and put the sharpie down.
“Probably one of the only ones that will be on here.” Peter chuckled.
“Oh, really? Maybe I should add something else then.” You said and picked the sharpie back up. Peter couldn’t see what you were drawing until you gently turned his cast towards him.
“Do you like it?” You asked timidly. Peter looked at his cast and saw that you had drawn a big heart around your name.
“I love it.” Peter blushed. “Thank you.”
“Of course. It’s an honor to be the first.” You told him. “Oh, and I went by the tower while you were sleeping and grabbed some of your clothes. The doctor said I can take you home once you can stand on your own.”
“I feel great, actually. Thanks for getting the clothes.” Peter thanked you as he got out of his bed. He got changed in the bathroom and met you in the room once he was done. You helped Peter get signed out before taking him back to your apartment.
“Stay here. I’ll make up the bed for you. Can I get you anything?” You asked as you helped Peter sit on your couch.
“Could I have some water please?”
“Of course.” You cupped his chin before going to get him a glass of water. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way you were babying him because of his injury. You returned with his water and sat beside him on the couch.
“Is there anything else I could get you?”
“I would love to shower. But I can’t get my cast wet.” Peter frowned and looked at his cast.
“You don’t have to.” You said and got back up. You returned shortly with a black garbage bag and held it up to show Peter.
“You’re a genius.” He smiled and got up from the couch.
“I aim to please.” You shrugged and opened the bag up. Peter went to put his arm inside but you stopped him.
“Um, you should probably take off your shirt before I put this on.” You said sheepishly.
“Oh. Right.” Peter replied and tried to take his shirt off, which proved to be difficult with only one hand. After watching him struggle for a bit, you grabbed the hem and helped him take it off. Peters face reddened as you pulled the shirt over his head and he smiled softly. You did your best to keep your eyes on his as you tied the bag around his arm and tried not to look at his body.
“There. That should protect it from any water.” You said as you never broke eye contact.
“Thanks. That was really smart.” Peter said quietly. You stayed staring at each other for a little too long before you snapped out of it.
“The bathroom is the first door on the left. Shampoo and conditioner is all in there. And I have extra towels under the sink.“ You said as you stepped away from him.
“Cool. Thank you.” He smiled once again before walking to the bathroom. Your garbage bag idea worked perfectly and he was able to clean himself without getting any water on the cast. He dried himself off to the best of his ability with one hand and stepped back into his boxers and sweatpants from before. That’s when he realized he had left his shirt out in the living room with you. Peter gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before going to find you again.
“Hey. All clean?” You asked when he came back into the living room.
“Yep. Could you take this thing off of me?” Peter asked and held up his arm.
“Sure.” You gulped and went over to him. You put on your best performance of pretending he wasn’t shirtless and glistening from the shower as you untied the bag and pulled it off. You made eye contact once again and quickly looked anywhere but his naked torso.
“Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” You asked and hoped the answer was yes.
“It’s okay. I think I can do it. You’ve already done so much.” Peter said as he grabbed the shirt. He managed to get one arm and both shoulders in before realizing he had no way of getting his cast through the shirt.
“I’m stuck.” He whined, making you laugh a little. He had his good arm sticking out over his head and his shirt riding up like a crop top .
“Aw. Look at you.” You chuckled and carefully pulled his broken arm through the shirt.
“Thanks. Again.” Peter laughed as well now that he was dressed.
“You’re very welcome. Now follow me. I’ll show you your bed.” You said and brought Peter to your guest bedroom. You had set it up for him while he was in the shower and put lots of extra pillows so he would be comfortable.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” You turned to him to ask. Peter looked down at your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.
“Um….” He trailed off and looked over at the bed.
“How about some sleep?”
“Yeah.” He laughs through a yawn. “That sounds really good. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Anytime, Peter. Goodnight.” You squeezed his arm before leaving the room. Peter stayed frozen in place for a minute and tried to touch his arm where you hand had just been, then remembered it was broken.
Peter woke up the next morning to the sweet smell of pancakes. He got out of bed and noticed that the pain in his arm had almost completely gone away. He flexed his fingers, something the doctor mentioned that he probably wouldn’t be able to do for a while, and realized his arm was probably mostly healed. He decided not to mention that discovery to you as he went to go find you.
“Good morning.” You smiled at Peter when he walked into your kitchen.
“It’s a very good morning. Hi.” He smiled back as you handed him a cup of orange juice.
“Sit. Eat. I can cut it for you if you need.” You offered as you put a plate of pancakes in front of Peter.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Peter smiled gratefully and picked up his fork. He went to pick up his knife and remembered his arm was in a cast.
“Hm.” He hummed when he realized his dilemma.
“Here. I got it.” You chuckled and took his fork. You cut Peters food up for him as he watched you with a dreamy smile. He’d never gotten this much attention from you before, or any girl for that matter. He was starting to think this broken arm was a gift from God.
“After breakfast, I can take you home and we can tell May together.” You offered as you got up and grabbed a spray bottle and a comb from the bathroom.
“Thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much already.”
“Please. I’ve barely done anything.” You scoffed and proceeded to wet his hair and then comb out his bed head. Peter turned to look at you with his newly styled hair and you sheepishly put the comb down.
“Okay. I see your point. I just like to take care of people. And I feel bad that you broke your arm. I’m sorry if I’m doing too much.” You explained as you sat back down.
“That’s okay. I’m not used to be taken care of like this. It’s kinda nice.” Peter admitted without looking at you.
“I think it’s nice too. To look after you.” You replied. You looked into each others eyes for a moment and exchanged a smile. Peter finished up his breakfast and got back into your car to go tell May what happened. As you explained to her everything the doctor had told you, all May could focus on was the pretty girl Peter had brought home.
“Wait, sorry, who are you?” May interrupted with an excited smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Y/n Stark. Peter works with my dad. He got hurt on patrol and my apartment was as close by.” You explained.
“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m so glad Peter had such a lovely girl to take care of him. And that he knew where your apartment was. Because he’s been there before?” May asked and clasped her hands under her chin.
“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and hung his head. “It’s not like that, May.”
“Peter’s a friend.” You chuckled. “But I was happy to look after him.”
“Well I appreciate that. And I know he does too. He talks about you all the time, you know. I just didn’t realize it was you. He didn’t tell me how pretty you were.” May added.
“May.” Peter said warningly.
“Oh, thank you.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get going. See you later, Peter.”
“She’s cute.” May said once you were gone.
“She is. But you’ll probably never see her again because you just scared her off.” Peter groaned.
“I don’t know. Don’t think I don’t see that signature on your cast. It’s gonna take a lot more than an overbearing aunt to scare that girl off.” May said coyly.
“Wait, you really think so?” Peter asked.
“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t go to that length for just a friend.” May shrugged. A smile crossed Peters face as it occurred to him this broken arm might have been exactly what he needed to get you to like him back.
Peter walked into campus next day with his cast in a sling. He went to the table he usually sat at between classes and saw Ned already sitting there.
“Hey dude. You never texted me back last- OH MY GOD.” Ned screamed and pointed when he saw the cast.
“Calm down. I’m okay. I just broke my arm.” Peter said with a huge smile.
“Uh, why do you seem so happy about it?”
“Because Y/n Stark took care of me.” Peter whispered excitedly as he sat down.
“Wait, Tony Starks daughter?” Neds eyes widened. “What?! How?”
“I couldn’t swing so I had to go to the nearest apartment I could find, which was hers. She drove me to the hospital and got me clothes while I was in surgery. Then she brought me home and let me sleep at her place.” Peter explained.
“You slept at a girls place?” Ned’s jaw dropped as he grabbed Peters shoulders.
“I know! I wish you could’ve seen it, Ned. She was so worried about me so she did everything for me. I’m talking combing my hair, cutting my food, she even helped me get dressed. Honestly, I think she might like me.”
“That’s hilarious.” Ned laughed. “Good thing you didn’t break your funny bone. Oh my God, wait, did you?”
“No, dude. I’m serious. You should’ve seen her. She was all over me in a way she never has been before. I think this broken arm is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Peter!” Your voice came from behind Peter so he and Ned turned around in confusion.
“Woah. What’s she doing here?” Ned asked and shook Peters arm.
“I have no idea.” Peter replied as a smile broke out on his face.
“Hi. I hope it’s okay I showed up like this.” You said as you sat down beside Peter.
“It’s totally okay. I’m happy to see you.” Peter said and leaned on his good arm to stare at you.
“I know it must be hard to do things for yourself with only one hand, so I thought I would bring you lunch. My dad mentioned that you always eat all the peanut butter when you’re at the tower so I made you a PBJ. Do you like those?” You asked him.
“I love them. Thank you so much. This is so nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.” Peter said and touched your arm.
“It’s okay. I wanted to. I also cut you up some apple slices and packed a juice box.” You said and showed Peter was else was in the lunch bag you had brought.
“No way! I love apple juice.” Peters eyes lit up when he saw the juice. He reached for him but you put your hand on his arm.
“I got it.” You smiled at Peter and put the straw into the juice box. You then held the juice box up so that he could sip it, all while Ned watched in disgust.
“Oh my.” Ned mumbled.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” You asked Peter.
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I figured since you can’t go on patrol while you’re healing, you could come hang with me at the tower. My dads been working on some new technology and I think you’d be a great help.”
“Yeah, yeah that sounds awesome.” Peter grinned and nodded his head.
“Oh, good. You said yes.” You smiled timidly. “I could pick you up after class?”
“Sure. I get out at 4:25.”
“I’ll be here. See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm and got up to leave.
“Did you see that? This arm is a goldmine! She’s never been this interested in me!” Peter exclaimed once you were gone.
“No girl has!” Ned said with equal excitement.
“This is even better than the spider bite. I hope I never heal.” Peter sighed happily and looked at his cast.
“Can I sign it?” Ned asked and fished in his backpack for a pen.
“Of course.” Peter smiled and moved his cast towards Ned. Ned gently held Peters arm in place and tried to write on the top of his cast above his elbow.
“Ugh, it’s too curved. Can you flex so I can get a solid surface?”
“No, I can’t flex my broken arm. And your name is just three letters. Is it really that hard?”
“I wanted to draw the blue amongus guy. Please?” Ned whined.
“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and flexed his arm the bets he could to give Ned a flat surface. When he did this, the cast cracked in half and fell in two pieces onto Peters lap. Chalk from the inside filled the air, making Peter and Ned cough as they waved it away.
“Oh shit.” Peter said and flexed his arm back and forth. Sure enough, it was perfectly healed.
“Dude!” Ned coughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that.”
“My arm is healed. Damn it!” Peter groaned and slammed his now healed arm on the table.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ned asked as he drew an amongus character on one of the halves of Peters cast.
“No. My broken arm was the one thing making Y/n pay attention to me. Without it, she’ll want nothing to do with me.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.
“Maybe you could break your other arm?” Ned suggested. “Or both arms?
“I’m not gonna break my arm on purpose. That’s too crazy. I just need a new cast.” Peter said as he began to brainstorm.
“Maybe not. Maybe you just need some tape.” Ned said as he held the two halves of the cast together. Peter looked at the two halves and smiled as he formed a plan.
Peter texted you that he’d meet you at the tower instead so that he could rush home to work on his plan. When you opened the tower door to greet him, the first thing you noticed was that his cast had been wrapped in duck tape down the middle that was then colored with a blue sharpie. You could see spots of wet Elmer’s glue around the obvious crack, despite the sling Peter had placed the arm in.
“Hi!” He greeted you.
“Hey, you. What happened to your cast?” You laughed and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, nothing. I just scuffed it a little.” Peter lied and pulled it deeper into the sling.
“Uh huh. Come in.” You chuckled skeptically and led him to the lab. You held the door open for Peter and noticed him touching it with his broken hand as he passed through. You were already skeptical and decided to play with him a little.
“This is so cool. Your dad never lets me in here.” Peter said as he looked around the lab in awe.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come sit.” You smiled innocently and patted a chair at the lab table that wasn’t pulled out. Peter pulled it out with his broken hand and sat beside you. You eyed him curiously and he gave you an awkward smile. You decided not to expose him just yet and let him help you with a few things around the lab for an hour. He was beyond excited just to be there and you didn’t want to ruin it just yet.
“Can you figure out this formula for me?” You asked and handed Peter a marker.
“Sure.” He smiled and went to the whiteboard. He started writing with his broken hand and you watched with an amused smile.
“You should probably use your other hand.” You said, making Peter freeze.
“Oh. Right.” Peter forced a laugh. “I keep forgetting it’s broken. Which it definitely is. You saw it.”
“I did see it. Does it still hurt?” You asked and touched the sling.
“Oh yeah.” He lied. “Real bad.”
“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and brushed some hair off his face. Peter gulped and blushed under your touch as he made a fist with his broken hand. You noticed him moving his supposedly broken hand and decided to tease him a little.
“You know, it’s really a shame your arm is broken.” You said and took a step towards him.
“Why?”
“Because we have the place to ourselves. We could’ve had a little fun together. But obviously we can’t, with your broken arm and all.” You replied and watched his face carefully for a reaction.
“A little fun?” Peter gulped again as you got even closer.
“You know….” You smiled coyly and walked your fingers up his arm.
“No.” Peter swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. You’re telling me you haven’t dreamed of fooling around in one of the giant rooms in this place?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“And you’re saying that’s what we would be doing? If my arm was healed?” Peter asked with wide eyes.
“Uh huh. Too bad it’s not.” You sighed dramatically and took a step back. Peter looked down at his fake broken arm and contemplated telling the truth.
“Yeah. That’s too bad.” He mumbled.
“Hey Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Catch.” You said and tossed a paper weight at him. Peter caught it with ease in his broken hand, making his cast break in half again. You raised your eyebrows as Peter squeezed his eyes shut.
“Shit.” He whispered.
“Don’t feel bad.” You chuckled. “I knew you were faking it the second you walked in.”
“You did?” Peter sighed and pulled the cast and sling off.
“Come on, Peter. Duct tape?”
“I know. I’m not a craft boy.” Peter admitted with defeat.
“I can tell. So what’s with the fake cast?” You wondered as you folded your arms.
“The first one was real. I swear. But it healed quicker then I thought it would and I didn’t need it anymore.”
“Then why would you tape the cast around your healed arm?”
“Because I didn’t want you to know it was healed.” Peter mumbled, just barely audible but you still heard it.
“What?” You laughed. “Why not?”
Peter sighed again before looking into your eyes. You looked at him expectingly and he knew there was no way out of this.
“Because then you won’t hang out with me anymore.” He said with a sad smile.
“What?” Your smiled faded as your arms dropped.
“Before I broke my arm, I had trouble getting you to even look my way. But that night in your apartment, I never lost your attention. Not even once. And then you showed up at my school and met my friend and I guess I liked that so much that I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. So I taped my cast back together to keep your attention a little longer. I’m sorry.”
“Peter, I didn’t do all those things because you have a broken arm. I did them because I like you.” You said as walked back towards him.
“You do?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Even though I have two normal arms?”
“It’s something I’m willing to look past.” You smiled teasingly. Peter smiled back before winced and gripping his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“I kinda triggered the injury when I broke the cast.” He grimaced and moved his shoulder in a circle.
“Aw. Do you want me to kiss it better?” You laughed sarcastically.
“Yeah. Can you?” Peter replied with equal sarcasm and held up his arm. You moved his arm down away from his face and leaned in to kiss him. Once Peter processed what was happening, he was able to kiss you back. He wrapped his now healed arm around your waist to pull you in, feeling the dull ache he got from moving it but deciding it was worth it.
“Any better?” You asked once you pulled away.
“Much.” Peter smiled and went to kiss you again.
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