#otherwise I’ll assume that’s far too long as it is!

[rebelwriter99]

Force help us all.

And here goes nothing. This one will need a TLDR.

Well Crosshair appeared. And I did cry. A lot. So that stayed true the whole season. Yaaaay. *Sobs quietly* My poor assistance dog has been so confused about why I keep crying today, he’s been very worried bless him and keeps climbing on me and licking my face. I love him very much and felt he deserved a sentence for his kindly helping paw.

I will be treating the finale as a single episode because anyone who didn’t go immediately from episode 15 into 16 you are lying.

So. Deep Breaths. Tech.

I will be assuming he is gone. I have read a lot of convincing arguments that he is not-but I will leave those to others. I will be writing as though he has died in the permanent sense.

I knew someone was going to die. It’s season 2 and Filoni is writing it. Hunter played Kanan and got captured and then they all escaped in S1. Big goal in mind in S2 (defeat Inquisitors vs Reunite Batch), someone is going to end up in dire straits to save the others. I thought it might be Cross, more likely Cody. And then it was Tech. I did not see any of that plot line coming. Saw Garrera and a plot inconvenient explosion were the smallest surprise. I was expecting them to make it to Mount Tantiss. Apparently not yet.

But the way Tech died is important to me. It sounds silly when I write it, but I’m autistic (and so is Tech I will die on that particular hill) and most autistic characters in stories of this genre (fantasy or sci-fi) get infantilised. They then tend to get killed in front of the proper heroes by the villain to show that the villain is evil. They’ll look rather sweet and innocent and meek and say something haunting and that’ll be that. If they do something brave it’s always played off that they don’t fully understand how dangerous what they’re doing is, or how heroic they really are. Not Tech. Tech fully understands what he’s risking. He knew the second he climbed out of that cable car he might not make it back. He nearly fell at least twice before he chose to fall. Not one moment in the whole show do we ever doubt that Tech is an adult, who is fully capable of understanding risk (and often advises caution) even if he computes it a bit differently, and mature enough to know completely what that sacrifice means. He, as an autistic character, demonstrated what it was to him to adjust to not having someone around, to having to cope with change. His knows this will hurt his family-but he has to do everything he can to save them. He, as an autistic character, got something akin to a romantic subplot-which you never really see. The way Tech is-it’s never painted as being ‘in the way’ of anything. He’s different-and that just is. Everyone completely accepts that about him. And until I looked back I didn’t realise quite how rare and refreshing it was to see that-because it’s written so well. And wether we get any more of Tech or not-I will always be grateful for what we did get to see of him. His character will always be special to me for what he represents-that people like me can exist in Star Wars, and in the galaxy far far away-we are simply ourselves and nobody really bats an eye.

And most importantly-it was his choice. You could write that scene nearly identically and have it just be an accident-but it was his choice. Clones don’t get many of those in life. And Tech, over the course of two seasons, has increasingly been learning to make his own. He’s stopped quite noticeably looking to Hunter for a nod before he does things. For a Clone, death is an occupational hazard. They view sacrifice through the lens of the war dominated life they lead and to them laying down your life to save your squad-I think that’s what many of them would choose if they had to. And the rest of the batch would definitely have died without Tech’s choice. Perhaps even, indirectly, Crosshair, who may have been tortured until he lost his life before the Empire found Omega. Tech’s last words I also thought were a lovely parallel to ‘good soldiers follow orders’. Tech chose defiance to save his family-he’s undeniably one of the best soldiers of the republic and yet ‘since when do we follow orders?’. Again-the emphasis on choice. It makes it feel like the end of the ‘Order 66 Era’ to me. We’ve gone from Clones forced en mass to kill those they loved and protected, to one Clone freely deciding to die to save the family they love and would do anything to protect. From the first moments the Republic became the Empire, right the way through to Stormtroopers almost completely replacing clones, and the first sign of major projects of the Empire starting to take shape. What happens next feels less like it’s going to be dictated by the galaxy-though the Empire will certainly be more oppressive than ever, what happens next is up to them now.

And Speaking of the Empire-the villain I now hate more than I ever hated Umbridge and Mrs Coulter as a child combined (which is saying something). Dr Hemlock.

He needs to die. In a way that Thrawn really didn’t-uncharted space was fine, he just needed a comeuppance. However, this particular foul being needs to cease to exist.

He is also the perfect villain. An incredibly creepy, secretive genetics researcher who doesn’t see his ‘test subjects’ as fully human is the villain in a story about Clones who are thinly veiled disability representation, currently exploring their own individual humanity, and were introduced to show the power of difference? Hell yes someone thought that through. And then said-hmmm yes Dr deadly poison. Then everyone will definitely know he’s an evil scientist! (It’s not like it wasn’t obvious as soon as he’d talked for longer than 5mins!). I await being immensely satisfied when everything he’s ever worked for burns to a crisp. Along with him.

For forces sake when he threw Tech’s goggles at Hunter’s feet. I was screaming. Hunter’s face. And when he puts down his blaster to pick them up. Hunter has chosen his squad. He’s not a soldier anymore, not really, he’s going to do whatever he has to do to get his family safe and keep them that way. I expect he’s going to go from being a bit more ‘go with the flow’ this season, to rather more ‘completely feral’ next season. And he will have Wrecker with him-who looks like he’s got some complex emotional development of his own to do. Gods it’s heartbreaking watching anyone grieve but poor Wrecker-I think he’ll blame himself. While oddly Hunter will be doing the same thing. Echo is going to have to be sensible I think-nobody else is going to be.

I am so excited for season 3. Really hoping we don’t have to wait a similar what felt like an age as last time. I love these characters. I’m yet to watch anything Filoni has written that didn’t have an immensely satisfying (if bittersweet) ending that made all the heartbreak worth it so I hope that’s where we’re going. Until then.

Vode An. Always. 🌟

TLDR: Force that hurt. Tech will always be an immensely important part of why I love Star Wars and The Bad Batch so much for so many reasons. Next season is going to be crazy. And if the Star Wars of equivalent of a creepy ableist medical researcher working for an authoritarian government imprisoning everyone doesn’t die horribly and have all his work destroyed I may riot.

#star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #well that was a long ramble but I think the grief is processed now at least #if anyone wants me to write any more please do just ask #otherwise I’ll assume that’s far too long as it is!

[firein-thesky]

Why is it that dc such as r@pe, sa, and incest is totally okay to write about and romanticize but y’all draw the line at racism, fat phobia, and homophobia *talking about the writings creators make, not personal beliefs*? Whats the difference between these things? All of them are hurtful and affect people in real life, so why is everybody on here choosing and picking one and not the other? Do writers on here think that they are not comparable or that one is okay to romanticize and the other is going way too far?

Im just genuinely curious as I have seen this topic be brought up again and again, which has made me realize this and Id like to see it from someone else's pov.

hi! there is a lot to answer and unpack here and i have every intention of doing so underneath the cut. forgive me if this gets long, but you’ve asked me 4 very massive questions that i think warrant detail, nuance, and thought. there is a lot i’d like to say here.

that being said, mind the content warnings and protect yourself.

cw: mentions of rape, incest, racism, homophobia, fat phobia, discourse in general

firstly, i am going to choose to give you the benefit of the doubt in assuming you are actually curious in hearing another side and you are not simply looking to stir a pot or pick a fight with beliefs you have no intention of changing or having an open discussion on. your accusatory tone in the first half indicates otherwise and kindly, i am not an idiot. but i want to earnestly talk to you about this and again, will think better of you than you perhaps have indicated you think of me.

secondly, you do not have to censor words like rape in my inbox. that sort of censorship has become wildly popular because of tik tok and other money-hungry social media that also desperately want to silence people. do you know why you have to censor words like that on tik tok? or words like genocide? suicide? racism? 1. so that they can make money and market and push their squeaky clean algorithms but 2. and perhaps worse, so they can silence victims. if social media platforms and capitalism and the systems of powers had it their way, you would never utter these words again—whether to call someone out for justice or to have an open discussion like this one. i encourage you greatly to think critically about this and how you choose to use censorship and why.

now, to your questions.

to preface, i am interpreting this ask as being anti-dark content in fiction as you state that ALL these subjects harm people in real life. or at least, you are being critical of all dark content in fiction and the way writers engage with them, effectively ‘picking and choosing’ which are deemed acceptable and which aren’t, when they are all hurtful. i apologize if that wasn’t your intention/what you believe, but regardless, i’ll endeavor to answer you.

i personally have drawn no lines about dark content nor spoken about any of these topics specifically really, which indicates to me you have a different narrative and/or are coming from more inflammatory arguments that are always circling fandom lately. in the post i most recently reblogged, i spoke mostly of violence. which, of course, all of those things can be. but i didn’t name one of those topics in particular.

regardless, i don’t believe in the censorship of any dark content in art, but rather advocate strongly for critical analysis on a case-by-case basis. in general, i encourage thinking critically about every aspect of the world around you.

i do not believe that rape, incest, and sa are okay to write about or create art about but racism, homophobia, and fat phobia are not. i believe all of those topics are ones that can, should, and will be explored in the safety of art. all to varying degrees of success, earnestness, impact, and intent. you’re right that these are real things, that can hurt people, and the fictional work about them can have impact on our society that is tangible but the actual art or fiction created is not real. and again, this is all to varying degrees on a case-by-case basis.

art and fiction also historically and massively do discuss these dark content topics and have actively swayed the public’s opinion on matters, whether for better or for worse. throwing away all dark content in art and fiction because it is ‘harmful’ is deeply, deeply dangerous and reductive. a lot of art that engages with dark content actually makes very succinct points about it—i think of vladimir nabokov’s lolita or octavia butler’s bloodchild or speak by laurie halse anderson.

this is where we must exorcise critical thinking. some pieces of work will handle dark content poorly—white saviors making art on racism. men making art about a woman’s experiences that (as you are so interested in) romanticize her pain. etc. etc. and some art will handle it’s dark content incredibly and be transformative, perhaps even revolutionary in how we talk, perceive, or acknowledge systems of oppression, violence, and dark content in this world. some dark content in fiction will have damaging beliefs and effects on society, some will not—we must also look at scope for this, at the writer perhaps, the historical moment, their audience etc.

(for example, there is a significant difference in a main stream male writer, writing of a woman’s experience with rape in a published book in a way that makes it sound romanticized, sold to thousands and thousands of general public vs. a woman using fanfic to explore rape, take control of it, or whatever in a fanfic for a small online community where there are warnings on it. indicating she is aware of its potential damage in a way her male counterpart is not…)

but i still believe in dark contents’ existence in art. of course there is differences between all of these topics you brought up, but i don’t think their differences matter in this answer. i believe in their right to be explored in art. i am talking broadly of media/art here, which i think is the more relevant conversation, but i think you are actually more interested in a much smaller scale of people. ie. fandom. ie. mostly marginalized people in small communities online writing and creating dark content.

people will choose and pick which ones they’d like to create art over and which ones they don’t, which ones they read and which ones they don’t. there’s no ‘hard line’ drawn anywhere. and i can’t control it and neither can you. perhaps you think violence is okay to be explored in fanfic, but racism isn’t. someone else will have different preferences. i do not believe in its censorship.

now, let’s move onto your interest in romanticization and what i think you are more pointing to, which is fandom. you are specifically referring to people in fandom who write about rape, incest, etc. and ‘romanticize’ it—ie. they write about it in a way that is a fantasy. it is perhaps supposed to be horny or sexy. so let’s talk about it.

i must remind you that these topics you’ve brought up (rape, incest, sa) being written are fiction and it is (most often) done by someone marginalized who has either experienced this or is in threat of experiencing this under a patriarchy. i assure you, they are aware of its harm. hence the copious warnings in fandom spaces.

if i can be candid, sometimes i think that people forget how systems of oppression work when discussing fandom and whether dark content being created should be allowed or not.

for example, i sometimes think people who are anti-dark content in fandom believe that a woman or afab person writing a fictional fanfic about rape or sexual violence then influences people to go out and rape people or that women actually like it. when the reality, in fandom spaces, is that rape and sexual violence happen frequently under the patriarchy and then these women in fandom write fictional fanfic in response to cope, explore, take control of, etc. etc.

to insinuate that women or afab people (which fandom mostly is) exploring dark content safely in fiction then causes their own oppression and harm or trauma is rather victim-blame-y to me. fandom exploring dark content does not cause these things to happen in our society….these actions (rape, incest, sa) happen in our society or systems of power and fandom reacts to them in their art by exploring it in dark content. do you understand what i’m trying to say?

it’s not a matter of what is ‘okay’ to romanticize and what isn’t. i do not think the romanticization that fandom does with dark content (ie. my kidnapper actually loves me! or this sexual act that i did not consent to…maybe feels good) is not actually romanticizing but coping because of the systems of power that i described above. and this can be coping with anything—shame of sexuality, shame of fantasies, trauma, fear, etc. etc.

as i said in my tags in that post i reblogged and as plato said, dark content in art is a safe place to explore what would otherwise be harmful and dangerous in real life. it is cathartic. potentially even, a purging.

and even if it isn’t all that—maybe it just is trashy fantasy. it is still playing pretend. it is still fiction and in fandom spaces, it is still most likely being created by a marginalized person. and again, even if it isn’t, we don’t get to censor it. we can be critical of it or wary or whatever, but to censor it, is a slippery, slippery slope. do deem some topics as “acceptable” and others as “unacceptable” is dangerous.

just like kids play pretend where they ‘fight’ or ‘kill’ or ‘kidnap’ or ‘shoot’ each other in games of cops and robbers or heroes and villains, they are safely exploring adventure, dark content, fantasy, tragedy, and higher emotions. adults can do the same in fiction and with adult topics like sex.

and at the end of the day, we don’t get to demand the credentials to do so either. we don’t get to censor them or control them and nor should we be allowed to. i cannot stress enough that i encourage you to be critical of censorship or the absolute disgust in dark content and at those (again—often marginalized people) who engage with it in fandom. i believe it is deeply puritanical, conservative, and dangerous.

you don’t have to like dark content or consume it at all and fandom makes it easy not to with all the warnings and tags, but you cannot control others or police them. nor should you want to.

and at the end of the day, i have some questions for you. you don’t have to respond to this, perhaps they’re just things to think about. what is the end goal here? what is the point in harassing, shaming, attacking, criticizing, or interrogating people in fandom spaces who create or support dark content? do you believe that if it is purged from fandom, it will be purged from our society? if you want it purged from society—shouldn’t you start there rather than in the inbox of marginalized writers in fandom? people in fandom did not create rape, incest, and sa nor do they in their exploration of fiction…they are merely reacting to a world that did create it.

i hope at no point i came off as rude to you, as was not my intention. i intended to stand up for myself and respectfully state my opinions and thoughts on this matter. i’m sorry it got long, but also i don’t believe in being brief on such complex matters. i am a writer who engages critically with the world around me and sometimes, things cannot be made into short, snappy answers. sometimes, we must unpack.

genuinely wishing you well.

#i cannot guarantee that i’ll have the time patience or energy to answer every ask like the one above in such detail #going forward #but i do support open discussions and i wanted to be kind to this anon #these are just my 2 cents on all of this #cw: rape #cw: incest #cw: racism #cw: fat phobia #cw: homophobia #discourse

[its-time-to-write]

Final one for today

This one is a little odder but I feel like a single parent story would be great for Jamie

Like maybe reader is a single parent and is out in the park where the child is playing alone with a football (maybe trying to do some tricks) and accidentally kicks it to far and it hits Jamie (Who maybe is jogging by) jamie brings it over and does some tricks and the kid is like omg can you show me how to do that! reader is like embarrassed but Jamie is like sure so they spend a bunch of time playing football. The kid is a fan of Richmond but tickets are expensive so Jamie invites them to a game (Free) and they get to meet the team and it becomes a regular thing

Jamie is trying to work up the nerve to ask out Reader (He has never dated someone with kids before) and he doesn't want to mess up the relationship finally the child is like please ask my parent out!

I can't wait to see what you do with these!!

Here’s another one that I’ve been sitting on forever! Finally got around to it. And in case you couldn’t tell, I freakin love Keeley Jones. I think she’s great. Enjoy!

if only love were true

Thank god that Keeley Jones is your friend and she promised you’d never have to go stag to a work function.

“Keeley,” you say over the phone, “I need you to be my date for this fancy dinner/gala/thing I have for work next Sunday. I absolutely cannot go alone.”

“Next Sunday?” she says. “Let me check my calendar.”

You wait a moment as she presumably scrolls through her phone, checking her availability.

“Sorry babes,” she says after a long moment, “I’ve got a work thing too. Otherwise I’d totally be down to go as your hot trophy date.”

You groan. “Is there any way you can get out of it? Out of all the things I’ve taken you to, this is the one I need you at the most.” 

Keeley’s silent. You can tell she’s thinking. She knows why this one is important.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I can’t go, but what if I sent you with a friend of mine?” She continues loudly over your beginning protests. “He’s really sweet and fit and funny, and he owes me favors pretty much for the rest of his life. You’d have a great time I SWEAR.”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Do you think he can go along with everything? There’s a 50/50 chance it’ll be a shitshow.”

“Absolutely,” Keeley replies without hesitation. “He’s fucking great. Can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but he’s learned how to use those skills for the greater good.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Right. I’m trusting you on this one, Keels. If he’s as good as you say, I’ll take him. But I really, really need this to be good.”

“Trust me,” she says, “You won’t regret it.”

—

Jamie Tartt arrives at your doorstep, fully briefed by Keeley as to his responsibilities. 

Be a gentleman, make her laugh, don’t fucking leave her with Harry.

Keeley showed him pictures of Harry’s instagram so Jamie would know exactly who he is on the lookout for.

It’s funny and it’s weird, but he’s not uncomfortable standing at the door, waiting for some woman he doesn’t even know. He’d do anything for Keeley, well aware that if she’s asking a favor, it’s for a good cause.

This is far out of his usual realm of expertise, but he reminds himself that he’s a person outside of being a footballer. A regular person would be a blind date for a friend of a friend at an awful work function.

Right?

Jamie doesn’t have time to dwell on the normality of this situation because the door is opening and you’re standing in front of him in some long gown that he swears outshines the stars.

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about this.”

You call a goodbye down the hall before shutting the door. Jamie assumes it’s to a flatmate or something, whoever the owner of the other car in the driveway is. He just smiles. 

“I’ve had weirder dates,” he says. “Don’t worry about a thing, love. Tonight’s gonna be fucking mint.” He offers you his arm.

You take it and feel yourself relax. It’ll be fine.

—

It is not fine.

Harry’s there, and god help you if you don’t want to kick him where it hurts. He’s surrounded by girls, shining that far-too dazzling smile and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up. Your grip on Jamie’s arm tightens, and he follows your gaze to your ex-flame.

“He’s fucking old,” Jamie comments.

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of how he gets you,” you reply. “Acts all charming and smart and shit and then next thing you know, you’re in his bed. Soon as that’s over, you’re done.”

“Twat,” Jamie responds with such conviction that you chuckle a little, despite yourself. That is, until Harry sees you and sheds his little entourage as he makes his way over.

“Shit,” you whisper. “How do I look?”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jamie replies without missing a beat.

The words are barely out of his mouth when Harry is upon you, leaning in for a hug that Jamie doesn’t allow. You’re grateful for his block as he pretends he was going for a handshake. You don’t want Harry touching you and the sentiment is reinforced as he gives you a once-over and says, “Didn’t expect to see you here, darling. What, are you neglecting your duties for the evening?”

That sentence must have some hidden meaning, because your teeth are bared and it’s gone over Jamie’s head.

“My duties,” you say through clenched teeth, “include being here at this gala because we both work for the same company.”

Harry tilts his head in mock sympathy. “Yes, but if I recall your priorities have… shifted.”

Jamie might be losing circulation in his arm and he may not know exactly what is happening here, but he knows enough. Keeley told him Harry was a right git without really saying why, but he is in no need of an explanation. In fact, he thinks that “a right git,” is too much of a compliment.

Harry turns his attention toward Jamie. “Has she told you?”

Jamie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’ll be damned if he lets this prick win.

“Yes,” he replies forcefully.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Ah, and that’s not a dealbreaker?”

Jamie shakes his head. 

“How…progressive of you,” Harry replies, meaning the exact opposite. “You see, I wouldn’t want someone who… well, you know.”

Jamie’s about to say, “No, I don’t know,” and also maybe punch Harry when more people come up, demanding your attention. As you both turn away, Harry calls, “Let me know when you get tired of the immaturity and need a real man. My bed is always open to you.”

Your face is bright red and you think you’re going to bolt. Jamie starts like he’s going to fight Harry and for a moment you wonder if Keeley sent him because he’s a little bit feral. 

Unfortunately for Harry and fortunately for you, he spoke a bit too loudly. 

You’ll find out later that he was heard by some higher-ups and removed from the premises. However, since that information is not made available to you until the next day, you spend the rest of the evening looking over your shoulder for Harry’s reappearance.

Jamie, god bless him, is a wonderful date. He goes the whole nine-yards, holding your hand, tucking your hair behind your ear, cracking jokes with you and others at your table. He’s making you look good, and feel relaxed in the process. By the end of the night you’re feeling confident and have made a good impression on several people on the board. 

You have new opportunities at your disposal, as well as a potential promotion. You put a reminder in your phone to send Keeley some daisies as a thank-you. You’ll send something for Jamie as well.

—

He walks you to your door, ever the gentleman. You thank him profusely for the night, and tell him you’ll be rooting for him next time Richmond has a match. He grins. “You a fan?” he asks.

You laugh. “Yeah, I am. Used to go to every match till… well, I just don’t get out much anymore.”

Jamie grins. “We’ll have to change that, darling.”

Darling. 

He says it so differently than Harry. It’s all… bubbly. Not condescending, not designed to make you feel small. 

“Good night, Jamie,” you say. 

—

You don’t really expect to see (or hear from) Jamie again, except you do. Because he’s texting you.

The content varies, from messages passed on from Keeley to gifs to memes to weird little stories from training. You think you’d like his coaches, even Roy. It already felt like you knew them from all their interviews that you’ve seen, but hearing the behind-the-scenes snippets solidifies the feeling even more. Your chatting is regulated to the early morning and your lunch breaks, as you’re not much of an evening person anymore.

Jamie doesn’t seem to mind, he’s up early to do extra training with Roy and you’re up early to prepare for the day. You enjoy hearing from him at 6am on the dot every morning.

Saturdays are nice, because you don’t have work. Keeley comes over sometimes, but today you’re on the Richmond Green. You’re sitting on a bench, watching a boy kick a small football. You’re so completely absorbed in the way he’s running back and forth that you are startled when a shadow casts over your face.

“Fancy seeing you here,” says a distinctly Mancunian voice.

“Jamie!” you exclaim. “What’re you doing here?”

Jamie points to his trainers. “Going for a quick run. Roy’s out of town, but he still makes me take laps. Fucking mental.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to reply when the boy with the tiny football comes flying over. “Are you Jamie Tartt?” he asks.

Jamie crouches to his level. “I am. What’s your name, mate?”

“Liam!” he replies. “I have a football like you!”

Jamie smiles. “Good lad. Keep up with the practice, and you’ll be better than me someday.”

Liam’s bouncing up and down, so excited that he throws his ball in the air. Jamie catches it and does a trick. At this point Liam is completely enamored with Jamie, and you are as well. He’s giving this kid his complete attention, making his whole day. Anyone else would have just shooed him off, but not Jamie.

He’s good with kids, your brain yells. 

You tell your brain to shut up.

Jamie tosses the ball back to Liam. “Where’s your mum?” he asks. “Might have tickets to a match for you.”

Liam points. Jamie turns to look behind the bench where you’re sitting, as that’s where Liam is pointing. There’s no one.

“Which one?” he asks, turning back to Liam.

“Me,” you say. “I’m his mum.”

Liam climbs into your lap and holds your face in his tiny hands. “Mum, Jamie Tartt says we can go to a match!” he says.

You laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up, love, Jamie hasn’t made any promises.”

Liam settles into your lap, facing Jamie. He can’t see your face or the pleading look you’re giving Jamie.

Please don’t mess this up, you try to say with your eyes. Jamie must get the message because he keeps smiling and asks Liam if he wants to kick the ball around for a bit. You watch them go, dreading the imminent conversation.

—

Liam’s asleep in his little Richmond pajamas. He loves football, and you watch every single match the Greyhounds play. Tickets are expensive, and you promised you’d take him to a real game one day. Truth is, you aren’t sure when that will be. It’s not easy being a single mum, but as you watch Liam’s sleeping face, you know you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

You sigh and get out of the rocking chair. Might as well call Jamie and get it over with.

Please pick up, you pray, and he does; you’re in the dim kitchen lights, poking at a cup of tea.

“Hey!” comes Jamie’s surprised voice. “You alright? Need anything?”

You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No, I wanted to talk about today. And Liam. Harry’s his dad.”

“Figured,” Jamie replies. “Made his comments at the gala make more fucking sense.”

“Yeah,” you say. Harry is a fucking prick. “Harry… he doesn’t have any custody. He’s not allowed near Liam. He also doesn’t pay child support. Or want a child. Or anything, really. He just wants to fuck around and do what he wants with no consequences. I should’ve known better honestly, I’m not even one to go around like that. Figures the one time I do it ends up like this. Not that I’m complaining,” you continue, “Liam is the best part of my life. It’s just hard when I keep losing people because they don’t want him too. Keeley’s the only one who stuck around. Did you know she’s a surprisingly great babysitter? Even kicks around a football in the yard with him.” 

Jamie makes a surprised noise. It’s hard to picture Keeley in that exact situation, but not hard to imagine her doing anything that her friends needed.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I get if this makes things weird. You don’t have to get us tickets to the match. Liam’s still pretty little anyway… always taking bathroom breaks and needing snacks.”

“The owner’s box would be perfect,” Jamie blurts.

That isn’t the reply you were expecting, so you’re silent for a moment as he continues, “I mean… It’s easy to get in and out of, Rebecca’s got a fridge and a restroom…People bring their kids all the time. He’d love it. I’d love it,” he finishes.

You’re not sure. This is the longest anyone has ever stuck around when it comes to Liam, and you don’t really want to go to jail for murder if Jamie breaks his heart. All he could talk about for the rest of the day was how Jamie Tartt played football with him. Isaac McAdoo is is number one favorite, but you think Jamie is now a close second. 

“Alright,” you say finally. “We’ll be there.”

—

It’s past Liam’s bedtime, like way past, and he’s asleep with his head on your shoulder. Your arms are tired from holding him and your throat is sore from screaming at the Richmond match. Jamie was right, Liam loved it. He wore his McAdoo jersey and got to meet the whole team before the game. You have a picture of him on Isaac’s shoulders, smiling so big. It’s weird to think that he probably won’t remember any of this when he’s older. 

You’re waiting in a lobby of some kind for Jamie to come out. You’re leaning against a wall, feeling Liam’s steady breathing as he dreams. 

Meanwhile, Jamie’s in the locker room, freaking out. 

“Coach,” he says, wearing a hole in the floor, “how do you ask out a girl who’s got a kid?” 

“Well Jamie-” Ted says. 

“Are there some kind of rules I’m supposed to follow?” Jamie continues, oblivious. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say?”

“I think-” Ted tries again. 

“Nah fuck it, I’m just going to ask,” Jamie says.

Ted grins. “That sounds like a good plan, son.”

Jamie smiles back. “Thanks, coach. You always have the best advice.”

Ted shakes his head, still smiling as Jamie leaves the locker room.

—

Jamie rounds the corner to find you half-asleep against a wall near some trophy case, with Liam breathing out tiny snores. He swears that he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and it freaks him out for a moment. It’s…domestic in a way he didn’t ever expect his life to be. 

He shakes off the weirdness and walks over. 

“Hi,” he says, unable to contain a smile. “D’you want me to hold him for you?”

“That would actually be amazing,” you reply. “My arms are killing me.”

The sight of Liam asleep in Jamie’s arms is enough to make your brain go oh shit. Because, oh. Shit. This boy is going to break your heart if you’re not careful.

“How’d you like the game?” Jamie asks as you begin to walk to the car park.

“I loved it,” you reply sincerely. “Haven’t actually been to a match since this one.” You pat Liam’s back affectionately. “Kid had a great time too. Talked about meeting Isaac McAdoo the entire match. He’s like some football aficionado in a four-year-old’s body, swear down.”

Jamie’s still smiling as he helps you get Liam into his car seat. “What’re you doing the rest of the night?”

You laugh. “Oh god, I wish I could say going to sleep. But I have to meal prep for the week while Liam’s asleep. Otherwise he gets his sticky fingers in everything. Gonna take a solid two hours, at least.”

Jamie hesitates. It’s now or never. “Could I come over?” he asks. “Can’t cook for shit, but I could keep you company.”

You pause. “Jamie- I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

But god, you want it so bad.

“I’m being serious,” Jamie says. “Not trying to mess with you. I like you. Think you’re fucking fit. I like being around you and I liked kicking the football around with Liam. He’s a good lad. I think it’s worth giving a try.”

You look at Liam. He’s still fast asleep, oblivious to his mum’s turmoil.

“Alright,” you say, still not looking at Jamie. “Let’s give it a try.”

Jamie grins and ghosts his thumb across your cheek, making you look at him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So now’s your moment to tell me to fuck off.”

You smile. “Can’t say that in front of Liam anyway,” you say as you crash your lips into his.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[ramblingoak]

Napping in the Clouds

This is for @megachaoticstupid who wanted a nap in my Steampunk Verse between little Copia and his big brother Secondo 💙

Huge thanks to @tasty-ribz for the art and to @ghuleh-recs for my steampunk dividers!

This technically takes place after Building A Family but it can be read on its own. There are also two other fics in this universe: Capitano Copia and Clockwork Friends.

Warnings: angst pertaining to Copia's time in an orphanage and Secondo's feelings towards his family otherwise it is very soft and fluffy, sfw, 2,600 words

They were running out of clocks.

Secondo brushed the toe of his boot against some of the debris on the floor.  The delicate metal parts scraped against the polished wood and he winced briefly at the scratch left behind.  Not that it mattered, Emeritus Manor had countless rooms that hadn’t seen a soul in years.  No one would care about the condition of the floor in some dusty study.  Secondo couldn’t even remember if he’d been in this room before.  Copia however had clearly been busy exploring.

Busy doing other things too.

“He’s up to three rats now.”  Alpha’s voice preceded him as he appeared out of the shadow in the doorway.  “And some toys.”

“Aren’t the rats toys?”

“No.”  Secondo turned with a raised eyebrow at the sharp quality of the ghoul’s voice.  To his credit, Alpha lowered his head briefly in apology before looking back up with a smirk on his face.  The red eyes of the demon glowed with mischief as he answered.  “They’re not toys at all.”

Copia was singing when he finally tracked him down.

He had a strong voice for his age.  Strong and bright Italian words drifted down the hallway and Secondo felt such an intense moment of something that he had to pause before he turned the corner to confront the boy.  Music hadn’t traveled the corridors of the manor for a long time.  Not since Terzo had decided he’d rather spend his time in the sky.

Or, as was the case lately, in prison.

Secondo turned the corner to find Copia hunched over something in the middle of the hall.  Parts and tools were spread out around him as well as what he assumed were the little clockwork rats Alpha had watched him build.  He was content to stay back and listen to his song but one of the rats twitched and turned his way.  Copia instantly quieted down, his head snapping back and his eyes widening as soon as he saw Secondo.

“I’m sorry!  I’ll put it back together!”

Copia stumbled onto his feet, grabbing an armful of parts and quickly going over to the quiet clock.  The rats were right at his heels save one.  This one went right for Secondo, pausing at his boots and gazing up at him.  There was a blue glow right below its chest, bright enough to illuminate the little creature’s eyes.  It was something that had Secondo holding his breath, memories of his own childhood here springing to his mind.

Memories of what he used to be able to build.

“What’s his name?”  His little brother turned his way, a small screwdriver clamped between his teeth.  Secondo crouched down slowly, not wanting to scare the rat away.  “Your friend, does he have a name?”

“Brizio.”  Copia timidly walked his way, the other two rats never straying far.  Only one of them had the same glow as the one Secondo was studying.  “I named him after a friend.”

“Friends are important, where is this friend now?”

“I-I’m not sure?  He was at the orphanage with me and got adopted…”  He dropped to his knees and reached a finger out to gently touch the rat’s back.  “I miss him.”

Secondo stayed silent as he watched the boy fidget, his little fingers tapping along his knees.  He could see a bit of himself in the boy’s features, the eyes being the most obvious thing.  The Emeritus family having had the white eye for generations at this point.  Nihil always claimed it was a gift but most of his sons at some point had considered it a curse.  Primo had hated it enough to replace it with one of his “enhancements”.

A tiny hand on his knee pulled Secondo from his thoughts.  Copia was looking up at him, his eyes wide and his face unsure.  

“It’s ok to miss friends and loved ones.”  He bit his lip for a moment, a memory from his own life here as a child coming forward in his mind.  “I used to have a pet rabbit, she was a gift from my mother.”

“What was her name?”

“Snowbell.  Because of her fur.  All white, beautiful and soft.”  He couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking of that first day he met Snowbell.  When his mother brought her into his room in her arms.  It was one of the last times he saw his mother healthy, before everything in his life changed.  He was so lost in his memories that he missed Copia saying something.  “What was that fratellino?” 

“Fratellino?”  Secondo found himself staring into a familiar set of eyes.  They shimmered in the gas lamps in the hallway, unshed tears threatening to drop.  “Are you…you’re one of my brothers?”

“Si, I am Secondo.”  He smiled when Copia reached a small hand up and Secondo gamely shook it.  “Primo is here as well, although he is rarely seen.  He likes to spend his time in his lab.”

“Do you have a lab?”

Secondo placed a hand on the floor to brace himself and then moved to sit cross legged.  Copia stayed close, his hand never leaving Secondo’s leg, almost like he was afraid that if he let go he’d lose the older brother he just found.

“I do, although I don’t use it as much anymore.  My study is where I spend most of my time, usually reading or designing things.”  Copia cocked his head and guessing the question he was about to ask Secondo continued,  “Designing things for my airship.”

“You have an airship?!”

The sheer joy on Copia’s face was infectious and he couldn’t help but match it,  “I do!  Secular Haze is her name.  She’s the fastest ship in the skies.”  Secondo made a show of looking around to see if they were alone,  “But don’t tell your brother Terzo that, ok?”

“Is Terzo here too?”

Secondo winced and gave a slight shake of his head,  “Unfortunately Terzo has landed himself in prison.”  Copia’s eyes widened comically, but he moved his head closer when Secondo leaned in.  “Piracy.”

“Wow!”

Of course to a child that was exciting and Secondo tried not to let his face fall and ruin the mood.  But Copia didn’t know what it was like dealing with the worry of how long Terzo would be gone this time.  About what sort of damage his ship Mummy Dust had taken.  Mostly though he was worried about what the city would find in the airship.

And what that would mean for the whole family.

He cleared his throat, taking a quick look around the hallway before leaning in close to Copia once more,  “I have an idea.”

“We ride around in your airship!”

“We will fratellino, I promise you that.”  Copia beamed up at him, following Secondo and standing up as well.  “But first we should clean this up, find something to eat and then maybe have a little tour of the manor, yeah?”

“Oh, yes!  Per favore!  Alpha showed me around a little but Papa Nihil caught us and made him take me back to my room.”

“Nihil is a dickhead.”  Copia’s little gasp had Secondo chuckling and he knelt down before the boy, his hands resting on his tiny shoulders.  “I will show you all the secret passageways, all the hiding spots.  I will show you how your brothers and I avoided him when we were your age.”  He stood up again, winking when he held out a hand for Copia.  “We still use them even now.”

He squeezed Copia’s hand when the boy reached out and then led him over to the silent grandfather clock.  Without direction Copia knelt down and began to put the old thing back together, his fingers quick and precise.  The little rats whirred at his feet, Brizio even picking up small gears and bringing them over to the boy right as he needed them.  Secondo chimed in whenever Copia held up something with a questioning look, helping the boy find where the part belonged.

When Secondo saw Copia’s triumphant grin as the clock came to life and a series of chimes rang out in the hallway he knew then and there that the boy was where he belonged as well.

From that day on Copia, and his rats, were rarely away from Secondo’s side.

Alpha and a few of the other ghouls had cleared out a space in Secondo’s study for the boy.  An area where he could work on whatever he desired, where he could build whatever he wanted, and Secondo was there to watch.  To lend a hand whenever Copia needed it.  It was amazing to witness the ease in which his fratellino could create things.  Amazing to see the familiar blue glow in each creation.  It was a special kind of magic the world didn’t see much of these days.

Secondo took a sip of his drink and continued to stare into the fireplace.  His study was quiet today save the crackling of the fire.  It was strange how fast he had gotten used to Copia’s chattering, to the sounds of the boy working as well as the sounds of his rats running about.  Copia loved to sing as well and Secondo found it hard not to join in when he did.  They made him ache for a home he had barely known but one he hoped to build here for himself and Copia.

Perhaps for Primo and Terzo as well if they wanted.

His ghouls had taken Copia out to see Secular Haze, something that the boy had been begging to do ever since he found out she existed.  He had also begged Secondo to come with but he couldn’t bring himself to go.  It had been so long since he had seen her, since he had last sailed through the skies on her, that the guilt for leaving her dormant was too heavy.  

He wasn’t even sure he could sail her again.  Wasn’t even sure if she’d let him.

“Papa?”  Secondo startled at the old honorific from Alpha, a title no one had bothered to use for years.  “We’re back.  Copia is in his room, he wanted to see you but he was asleep on his feet.”

“What did he think of her?”

“He was amazed, running around to study every part of her.  Asked a million questions.”

“I’m sure he did, I’ll have to dig out her plans so he can look at those.”  

Alpha stepped into his line of sight, the tall ghoul moving close to the fire and staring right into it.  He was far too close to the fire than most could handle but each ghoul had a specific element they called their own and fire was as natural to Alpha as breathing.  There was a tenseness to the ghoul’s shoulders, like he was debating whether or not to say something.  When he finally turned around Secondo set his glass down and crossed his arms.

“Is there something else?”

“Some of those questions were about you.”  Secondo shrugged, not really surprised at that.  The boy always had lots of questions for him.  Recently he had been mostly focused on the story Secondo told him of his rabbit, Snowbell.  “About what you were like at his age.”

“Too smart for my own good and desperate for someone to notice.”  

He froze after the words left his mouth, surprised he had said something so personal.  Although it didn’t really matter, Alpha had been there when he was young and angry at everyone.  Lost in the Emeritus Manor without another Emeritus in sight.  Nihil annoyed that Secondo even existed and Primo gone all the time for whatever reason.  

“I told him you were lonely.”

Secondo couldn’t shake Alpha’s comment.

The old ghoul was right, he was lonely.  It was just an odd thing to think about considering he’d felt that way most of his life.  While Primo had eventually warmed up to him, and Terzo had moved into the manor not long after Secondo did, they never truly felt like brothers.  Each was different enough in their attitudes and abilities that it had been hard to bond. 

It didn’t help that Nihil always tried to make things a contest between the three of them.  Who could develop something better, who could build something faster, who could propel the family further?  Those were the things Nihil cared about and if one of them failed at any of those aspects, or anything else, he was quick to lose interest and ignore them.  That in turn made the brothers quick to ignore each other, something that was easy to do in such a big house.

He got up to throw a few more logs into the fire, easing back into his chair as the loud popping sounds from the wood filled the room.  It was funny how quickly he had gotten used to Copia being in here because it already felt strange not to hear him tinkering away at something.  Ever since he had visited the airship he had been spending more time in his room.  Alpha said he was fine, just busy working on something.  The ghoul wouldn’t elaborate any further and when Secondo had finally decided to go to the boy himself Copia refused to even open the door.

Perhaps Copia had already grown tired of him.  The thought hurt and Secondo quickly took a swig of his whisky, wanting to bury that idea as deep as he could before it started to hurt worse.

“Fratello?”  Copia’s little voice had Secondo coughing mid swallow, the whisky burning his throat when it went down the wrong way.  He leaned forward with his arms on his legs, trying to catch his breath.  A small hand started to pat his back, the boy’s voice frantic when Secondo continued to cough.  “Are you ok?  Should I get Alpha?  Please don–”

“I’m ok, I’m ok.”  Secondo turned and placed a hand on top of Copia’s head, lightly ruffling his light brown hair.  “You just startled me, that's all.”  

He turned and set his glass down on the nearby table before looking at Copia again.  The boy had something in his arms, an object made of gold metal with a familiar blue glow shining bright in its chest.  At first Secondo thought it was Brizio but when he looked closer he realized the ears were much longer than what he was used to.  The body shape was different too.  Secondo straightened up in his chair abruptly, his eyes widening when he realized what it looked like.

“I made you something.”

It felt good to be in the sky again.

It felt good to have his ship under his feet, his ghouls at his side and the Secular Haze racing through the clouds.  This is where he belonged, the sky had always felt more like home than the ground.  The hum of his ship resonated through his bones and he didn’t realize how much he had missed it until now.  This partnership between him and the machine he had built.

The body next to him shifted and he looked down at a familiar mop of brown hair, his fratellino fast asleep at his side.  A small fist was latched onto his shirt, machine grease tucked under his nails like always.  Nearby Secondo could hear the familiar sound of small metal feet running about, the gentle whir of Copia’s creations ever present.  

When he looked over he met the gaze of one such creation Copia had made for him.  A gift that Secondo would cherish always, just like he planned to always cherish the small boy who made it.  Snowbell’s ears clicked as they moved around, the mechanical rabbit rearing up onto its hind legs when two of Copia’s rats ran by.  It soon dropped back down onto its feet, chasing after them around Secondo’s cabin. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds of his ship around him.  Soaking in the warmth of being with his family, both old and new, as he began to drift off to sleep.

He didn’t feel lonely anymore.   

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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#copia fanfiction #secondo fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #steampunk copia

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, check out part 2 part 3 part 4 and epilogue!

Warnings: Nothing too serious, Steve/Eddie went to high school together but don't know each other, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray, and my fav tag of all - gay scheming!

A/N: I'm a counselor in training currently but I don't specialize in couple's counseling so this may or may not be accurate? Idk man it's just fun and silly I love our stupid boys sm. Original post by @hxneyfarms

It’s a match!

“Robin, it worked!” Steve shouted from the couch. She ran from the kitchen and joined him, peering over to stare at his screen.

“I told you it would! It’s funny!” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and anxiously pulled up the profile of his new match. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “I remember swiping right on this guy. Didn’t think I had a shot.” He looked through the pictures. They were all candids, slightly blurry, or shots of him with his friends, but due to his distinguished look it was easy to pick him out even in a crowd. 

“Show me his bio,” Robin ordered. Steve closed out the pictures and scrolled until the bio was in full view.

Eddie, 25. Shit at bios.

“Well that’s kind of boring,” Steve said. 

“Yeah. You think he’s a bot?” Robin asked.

 “Or a catfish, maybe,” Steve mused. “Either way, I still think I should take your joke down. I don’t talk like that in real life, and people might get confused.”

Robin had convinced him earlier to change his bio and replace it with - let’s go to couple’s counseling and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other. Steve had been a little tipsy when he agreed, and he assumed nothing would come of it. But then, Eddie matched with him. 

“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Dingus,” Robin replied. “People write weird shit in their Tinder bios all the time.” 

“Eddie didn’t,” Steve countered. 

“Yeah, but look at him,” Robin responded. “He’s distinctive. It’s attention-grabbing in itself.”

“And I’m not?” Steve asked. Robin chuckled.

“You’re the kind of pretty where if you don’t have something witty in the bio, people will think you’re just some ignorant surface-level airhead who’s never worked a day in his life, and that’s not cute.”

“Okay, ouch,” Steve said. 

“It’s a compliment!” she insisted. “Like, you need to show that you’re witty and funny and able to poke fun at yourself, otherwise you’re going to attract the wrong kind of people.”

“And this guy’s the right kind, huh?” Steve opened one of the pictures back up - one where Eddie was passed out on the couch with a beer still in his hand. As they looked at the screen, a notification popped up. Eddie sent you a message.

“Let’s find out,” Robin said. 

-

Eddie: If your bio is serious, I’m in

Steve: Wait, really?

Eddie: Yeah xD sounds fun

Eddie: You got a therapist in mind?

Steve: Honestly didn’t think I’d get this far

Eddie: Boo. 

Eddie: You’re lucky I know just the guy

Steve: Okay…

Steve: So how do we do this?

Eddie: Dude, it was YOUR idea

Steve: Ok but I’ve never done it before!

Eddie: Steve! I’m your first? <3

Steve: Yeah, yeah. I’ve never pranked a therapist before. 

Eddie: I hope you’re either rich or have really good insurance. Otherwise this is gonna be an expensive first date.

Steve: I got it covered. 

Eddie: I figured you did. I’ll call the guy in the morning and get back to you with the appointment time. 

Steve: Okay. How’s your night going by the way?

Eddie: Nope!

Eddie: That’s not part of the deal, Steve. We go into this blind or not at all.

Steve: This is insane.

Eddie: Once again, your idea. I’m excited. Are you excited?

Steve: Thrilled.

Steve: I’m still concerned about how you know the perfect guy for this.

Eddie: 😛

Eddie: Don’t worry about it.

-

“I don’t even think he’s serious,” Steve said after he recounted the entire interaction to Robin.

“I don’t know, Steve. Sounds serious to me.” 

“What if he’s like - not right in the head?” Steve wondered, reading the interaction over and over again. “Like, who is this therapist and why does he know him? Is he actually going to make an appointment? What if this whole thing crashes and burns?”

“I honestly think he plans on it crashing and burning,” Robin replied. “And then after, the both of you either hit it off and laugh about it forever, or you have an amazing failed date story to tell your friends until the end of time.”

“That’s…actually genius.” 

“I know.” 

Steve read the messages one last time, focusing on the bits where Eddie was mildly flirtatious. Steve! I’m your first? He could tell if Eddie was being condescending, or what vibe he was going to bring to this absolute insane first date. But, as Robin said, it would be a story no matter what. 

He tried to focus on that and not the anxiety that started brewing in his veins.

-

The appointment was set for two weeks later. Eddie still refused to talk to Steve other than for details on where to go and at what time, so for the whole fourteen days, Steve assumed he was being pranked right back. Eddie was messing with him, or he’d cancel, or Dr. Bauman didn’t actually exist, or he’d be murdered, or, or, or -

None of that happened. Instead, on a Tuesday afternoon, Steve pulled up to an office building about fifteen minutes from his apartment. He’d passed by it several times and never once wondered what went on inside. 

Apparently, really weird first dates.

They had decided to meet up in the parking lot and walk in together. The whole thing was crazy, but having one of them pick the other up so they could drive in together was way over what was needed to commit to the bit. 

Steve got there first. They needed to be fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork. It was twenty minutes prior to their appointment time. 

This was weird. It felt a lot different than all the times he’d met someone for coffee. In another world, that’s how he and Eddie would have met. But no. He had to agree to this stupid thing, and now he was too far into it to back out. Jesus Christ. 

Eddie’s car pulled in a few spaces down. Steve knew it was him from the hair alone - unmistakable. He got out of his car and walked towards his date, his palms sweaty. Eddie got out of his car a moment later, eyeing Steve as he approached him and smirking. 

“What gave me away?” Eddie asked. 

“You think I wouldn’t recognize my boyfriend?” Steve snapped back, pleased at the way he was able to take Eddie off guard. 

“Touche. Well, come on, then. Let’s do this.” 

-

Before they knew it, they were sitting in a cramped waiting room, alone, filling out paperwork. It consisted of insurance information first, followed by names and some quick background questions about the “couple.” Steve began filling it out, thankful that he was still on his dad’s fancy rich-person insurance. It covered basically everything, even fucked-up couples fraud with Dr. Bauman.

“Are you not worried I’m gonna, like, steal your information or something?” Eddie asked as Steve wrote down his policy number.

“I mean…should I be?” Steve responded. 

“No,” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I gotta say, though, you’re way more trusting than I am. It’s ballsy. I like it.” 

“Uhh…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the paperwork, but the compliment was throwing him off. “Thank you, I think.” He continued filling out the paperwork.

“You’re from Hawkins?” he asked. Steve nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m from Hawkins.” This caught Steve’s attention. 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Small world,” Steve replied before turning his attention back to the form.

“You have a cute middle name,” Eddie teased. 

“Shut up,” Steve responded. He wanted to find Eddie’s pestering annoying, but instead he found himself smirking, even giggling a little bit. This whole thing was so ridiculous. He shoved the clipboard onto Eddie’s lap. “Your turn, lover.”

“Euch,” Eddie groaned. “That is not one of our pet names, no way.” 

“Noted,” Steve chuckled. He was…kind of enjoying this way more than he expected, as weird as it was. He’d grown accustomed to a lot of even stranger things in his life, so this didn’t feel as shocking as he’d initially thought. 

“Don’t look,” Eddie said as he covered the paper.

“What? Why not?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Because not all of us are as blindly trusting, Steven,” Eddie responded. Steve shook his head and looked away. 

“Good thing we’re in therapy to work that shit out, Edward Munson.”

“You looked!” Eddie exclaimed. 

“It was right in front of me!” Steve pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie sighed. “Okay, now we gotta put down a reason for doing this.”

-

Fast forward ten minutes, Eddie and Steve were seated next to each other on a relatively small but cozy burnt orange couch. The color was ugly, but the seats were comfortable. Steve noticed the cushions had a natural dip that kept inching him closer to the person sitting on the opposite side. He figured this was certainly intentional. 

The doctor sat in front of them, reviewing the papers the pair had just filled out.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Bauman, and one day I may let you call me Murray,” he began, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. “I see here on your sheet that you’ve been feeling distant from each other, and that you’re looking to feel more connected, right? Can you tell me more about that?”

“We’re just launching right into it, huh?” Eddie asked. 

“Well, we are on a time crunch here. Your decision how you spend it,” Dr. Bauman answered. 

The man was immediately intimidating.

“Ooookay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it just feels like - like he and I don’t even know each other anymore.” Eddie stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to make it seem like he was maybe getting emotional or perhaps trying not to sneeze. 

“I see,” Dr. Bauman said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Let’s begin with how you two met and we’ll go from there, okay?”

“We were high school sweethearts,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Wow,” Dr. Bauman commented. “Well, it’s common for a lot of development to happen from then to now. How did you two get together?” Eddie looked to Steve, as if to say, you’re up.

“It just kinda…happened, I guess,” Steve began. “We were assigned as partners for a project and really clicked.”

“Yeah, and then we snuck around for a while. Sneaking kisses in janitor's closets and empty classrooms, you know the drill.” Steve tried not to blush at the thought of sneaking around with high school Eddie. If they were both from Hawkins, did they actually go to high school together?

“Snuck around for the thrill?” Dr. Bauman asked.

“No,” Steve responded. “I wasn’t out yet.” Eddie looked at him curiously, as if he wasn’t expecting Steve to say something so serious. He wondered if it was actually true. 

“Well, that and -” Eddie added. “- he was a popular jock and I was kind of a freak.” This time, Steve looked at Eddie curiously. Steve was a popular jock. Eddie could have assumed that, or made a lucky guess, but something told him that wasn’t the case. 

Eddie Munson. Munson. 

Oh.

Oh!

It took Steve a minute to recover from that information. They did in fact go to school together, they just had never interacted. Eddie obviously remembered, and he obviously knew that Steve didn’t. So what was the goal here? Was Steve being punked or something just so Eddie could get free therapy?

“Steve, you look a little pale there,” Dr. Bauman noticed. “Did that trigger something?”

“Yeah -” Steve croaked, now unable to look at Eddie. If he had, he would have noticed Eddie didn’t look as smug as Steve assumed he was. “Yeah, I just don’t think about high school that much anymore.”

“Why not?” the doctor asked. 

“Because, I - I’ve changed so much since then. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to be that guy.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed. “So, Eddie fell for someone who no longer exists. I think I’m understanding the problem here. Eddie, do you feel that you’ve changed?”

Damn. This guy’s kinda good.

“Uhhh -” Eddie began. Neither of them expected this to get so serious so quickly. It didn’t even feel like it was about their imagined relationship anymore. “N-no, I don’t think I have.”

“And Steve, do you think Eddie has changed?”

Steve thought about the limited memories he had of Eddie in high school. Cocky, slightly unhinged, just as he was now. But there was something different, he just couldn’t really pinpoint what. Maybe if he’d talked to Eddie for longer than like ten minutes total in his life, he’d have a better idea. 

Then, he realized the point of this wasn’t to be serious. It was to make shit up. Steve pivoted back to the original plan. 

“Yeah, I mean -” He shifted in his seat, finding himself now thigh to thigh with Eddie, despite not meaning to be. “He’s, uh - it just feels like we don’t have anything in common anymore?” It was something he’d heard lots of couples say.

“Do you want to make this work?” Dr. Bauman asked. 

“Why else would we be here?” Eddie answered. Dr. Bauman narrowed his eyes. 

“You tell me.”

Eddie and Steve were kind of not good at this. Their story was based in truth and not very exciting. They both seemed to realize this at the same time.

“Steve slept with the dogwalker,” Eddie proclaimed. Steve scoffed, half-amused, half-offended. 

“Yeah, well you sold drugs to my mom!” he shot back. The two guys looked at each other, pretending to look angry while simultaneously wanting to laugh. 

“Woooah, there,” Dr. Bauman responded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Do we want to begin with Steve’s infidelity or Eddie’s illegal activity?”

“That’s not gonna, like, go on record or anything, right?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. “Like, the cops aren’t gonna show up at Eddie’s door?”

“Our door, babe,” Eddie clarified, not the least bit nervous. 

“Depends on how long ago this happened, I suppose,” Dr. Bauman answered.

“Long time ago,” Eddie said. 

“Are you still currently dealing?”

“No, I don’t even do drugs anymore. Well, like, except pot - but that’s legal now so it doesn’t really count, I think.”

“Dude,” Steve whispered. 

“You brought it up,” Eddie replied just as softly. 

“Right,” Dr. Bauman responded, taking it all in. “No report needed, then. Let’s move onto the dogwalker.” 

They continued to add to their lore as the appointment went on. At one point, Eddie even faked tears. His acting was…decent enough to avoid suspicion, thankfully. When the clock hit 1:45, their time was up, and they’d successfully managed to fool Dr. Bauman. Mission accomplished, date over. Right?

“Well, thank you so much, Dr. Bauman,” Eddie said. “I think you’ve really helped us out today.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Steve said, smiling. “We feel so much better.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Dr. Bauman said with his hands up. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, in my professional opinion.”

“There is?” Eddie asked, confused. 

“Oh, definitely. Most couples go to a minimum of four sessions, and that’s still a low average. Plus, this was only intake. I mean, unless you guys weren’t happy with the counseling I gave you today…”

It felt like a challenge, and Eddie loved challenges. Meanwhile, Steve was too awkward to come clean or tell the doctor they weren’t interested. 

They made another appointment.

-

“Well, that went pretty well, I think,” Eddie said as they left the building. 

“You knew me already?” Steve asked once they were a safe enough distance from the office and Dr. Bauman. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just knew your name and face, man. And, like, your vibe,” Eddie answered. “Back in high school, anyway.” 

“You should have told me,” Steve said. 

“You should have remembered,” Eddie shot back. “Whatever, it was fun. Right?”

“Eddie, I have no idea what that was,” Steve replied. “We have to cancel that appointment.”

“Why? You don’t want to see me again?” Eddie grinned. Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, I - I mean, I don’t want to waste his time. That spot should go to other couples who need it. Meanwhile, we could go get coffee like normal adults.” 

“I dunno,” Eddie said, kicking a pebble in the road as they walked. “I kinda liked it. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

It was true. Steve couldn’t say that he didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve unlocked his car and made his way to the door. “We’re canceling.”

“He’s the one that wanted to see us again, Steve,” Eddie reminded him. 

“Yeah, because he thought we were an actual couple.” Steve was getting frustrated at Eddie’s antics, and the way he refused to back down. “I don’t know if this is gonna work, man. This has been, uh - well, it’s been weird, but I think -”

“We have to go, otherwise you’ll be charged a cancellation fee,” Eddie blurted out. It was a lie, a bold-faced lie, and yet -

“So, I’ll pay the fee. Can’t be more than the cost of a full session,” Steve figured. 

“Ugh!” Eddie groaned in frustration. “Okay, fine. Look - I’m annoying as hell, I’m a mess, I’m broke, and I could never afford someone like Dr. Bauman. I don’t know about you, but some of the things he said actually made me think and I kind of want to ask him about, like, real shit.” 

Steve stared at him blankly for a minute. 

“You - you want me to keep going to fake couple’s counseling with you so you can get actual therapy?” Steve asked, stunned. 

“I mean, you could work your shit out, too,” Eddie suggested.

“What shit? I don’t have shit,” Steve insisted. 

“Of course you do! Everyone does!” Eddie yelled. 

“You’re insane,” Steve muttered. The thing was, he wasn’t saying it out of anger. He was saying it in understanding. 

Because the thing was, Eddie had a point. Dr. Bauman was good at what he did, and Steve knew he’d never sign up for individual counseling. He already had the appointment. Eddie smirked. 

“You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Fuck.

“Fine,” Steve agreed. 

-

Notes from Dr. Bauman - 3/18

Eddie and Steve

Together since high school

Feelings of disconnect

Steve/dogwalker

Eddie/mom/drugs

Clearly lying

Clients are faking their relationship for me, for some reason. Will continue to work with them to figure out why. 

They aren’t dating…but they should be

(next chapter)

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

@ofherscarlettwitchways @livvyshmiv @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @Dang_Dirty_Demons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @bagofgreentea

#steddie #this is honestly so wild haha #nobody do this irl #but it's fun to read and write about! #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfic #stranger things au #writing #st fanfic

[yuikomorii]

Happy Birthday to the BEST BOY!!🥳🏀❤️

// You have the ability to accomplish everything you set your mind to, and we all know you’re the apple of Yui’s eye. Thank you for never giving up on others and for making Yui the happiest girl alive while letting her feel like a normal teenager! (*＾ワ＾*)

Love you, Ayato! 🫶🏻

Since you guys asked for a new scenario, I decided to deliver it uwu. I’m still not very confident in my writing skills and I’m aware some parts sound really cheesy but I truly hope you will enjoy it! 💖

~Ayato’s Birthday short story~

Yui: Phew… it’s finally done!

( It took me three fails to make his cake but thankfully I finished it on time! )

Uuh… It was supposed to look better though but maybe the good result lays in the taste?

— Yui tries it —

Just like I thought, the taste didn’t deceive me! I tried my best not to make it too sweet, therefore I truly hope Ayato-kun will like it.

Speaking of Ayato-kun, I wonder if he woke up. It might sound a bit childish but I really want to be the first to congratulate him~!

— Place shifts to Ayato’s room —

Yui: Eh? The door is open…? Could it be that he’s awak—…! He left?

???: Nfu, what’s with the long face? Did you and Ayato-kun have a fight~?

Yui: L-Laito-kun! Gosh, don’t just whisper in my ear like that!

Laito: Why not~? Is it because it arouses you? As expected from you, Bitch-chan, you really grow into that nick—

Yui: E-Enough…!

Look, Laito-kun… do you happen to know where exactly Ayato-kun went?

Laito: And what if I do?

Yui: Well… in that case, where is he?

Laito: Bold of you to assume I’d tell you. You’re always so naive~

Yui: Eh? That’s…—

( Of course this guy wouldn’t help me! I can’t believe I really thought asking him would be a good idea… )

Laito: Nfu, I know that face, Bitch-chan, you were judging me in your thoughts, weren’t you? How rude~

Yui: W-Wait, you got the wrong idea! I just—

Laito: And I was merely trying to do you a favor, but I suppose you don’t appreciate such things from any man, am I right?

Yui: I don’t really get what you mean…

Laito: Well…~ all I’m going to say is that if you tried using your head a little, then maybe you would be able to guess where Ayato-kun is.

Yui: Hmm…

( Now that I think about it, the weather is beautiful today, neither too hot nor too cold. As far as I recall, this is Ayato-kun’s ideal type of weather for playing basketball. In that case… could he really be outdoors? )

Ah, I might actually know the place!

Laito: See? Making use of those brain cells once in a blue moon wasn't all that difficult, was it? Now hurry up or else you won’t be the first one to wish your precious boyfriend a “happy birthday” ~

Yui: …!

( Did he eavesdrop on me today!? )

( G-Geez… It’s a bit embarrassing knowing that he listened to such things. Despite this, he truly managed to be helpful in some way. )

Y-Yeah, I’ll leave right now. By the way… thank you, Laito-kun.

— Yui walks away —

Laito: ( Nfu, I wonder if she really guessed that place right. Too bad that desperate face didn’t last any longer, otherwise I might have truly taken advantage of it.~ )

— Place shifts outside the mansion —

Yui: Hoh— that’s a bit heavy!

( I tried to fit everything for his birthday in this basket but it weighs more than I expected! )

( Uuh… I really hope Ayato-kun is around here. )

???: Tsk, damn it!

Yui: That voice—! Ayato-kun!

Ayato: Huh? Yui?

— Yui jumps into his arms —

Yui: Happy Birthday, Ayato-kun…!

Ayato: Hah? Ah… Yeah…

So you remembered it, huh?

Yui: Obviously, there’s no way I would forget such an important day!

Ayato: It wouldn't have made a difference anyway. Birthdays have never been a reason to celebrate for vampires; they are just like any other day. Basically, we couldn’t care less.

Yui: Well… that might be so, however I do care about it. It’s true that humans and vampires have distinct points of view and mindsets, but this still won’t stop me from considering this day special. After all, that’s when Ayato-kun was born and I’m grateful for that, as a result I want to celebrate your birth.

Ayato: …

Yui: ( He suddenly went silent… Ah, did I really exaggerate with that confession? )

Ayato: Yui…

Yui: …!

( He’s smiling so brightly! )

( I would have never thought those words to make Ayato-kun so happy but seeing him like that… my heart can’t help but fill up with so much joy too…! )

Ayato: Geez, I’m supposed to be indifferent about my birthday but look at me grinning like a fool due to a Chichinashi such as yourself. Now you better take responsibility or else—

Yui: ( He says it in such a threatening way but that blushy face proves exactly the opposite, fufu. )

Ayato: Oi, what’s up with that basket?

Yui: ( Oh, right! )

I got something for you!

Ayato: Heh, only for me?

Yui: Yup!

( Although, I truly hope nothing got crushed. )

— Yui opens the basket and serves cake —

Yui: I know it doesn’t look perfect but I’m confident the taste is on your liking. I remembered that you aren’t too fond of very sweet food, therefore I tried avoiding adding marzipan and focus more on the fruits instead. Do you… like it?

Ayato: Haa… there’s no need for those useless explanations. You made that whole cake for me, so yeah, isn’t it obvious that I’d like it?

Yui: Ayato-kun…

— Ayato tastes it —

Ayato: Mm… as expected, it’s good! To be honest, Takoyaki would have been a far superior choice, but I can't deny that the cake Chichinashi made is also quite tasty.

Yui: Fufu, I knew exactly that you were going to say that, so I prepared this for you!

— Yui serves him Takoyaki —

Ayato: Hah!? Are you a magician or somethin’?

Yui: N-not at all! I just know Ayato-kun loves Takoyaki so much that he would eat them everyday, hence they couldn’t miss out on his birthday, right?

Ayato: You…

— Ayato pins her down —

Yui: Eh—?

Ayato: Bet you weren’t prepared for this, were you?

Yui: ( Is he going to suck my blood? )

— Ayato kisses her —

Yui: Nn…!

Ayato: Now I am the one catching you off guard. How does that feel, eh?

Yui: Good…

Ayato: Oh? What happened to “Ayato-kun, that’s so embarrassing!” ?

Yui: I-I mean… it is a bit yet I can’t deny that Ayato-kun’s gentle kisses are the best.

Ayato: Tsk… Why not so cute and honest all the time? Is it ‘cause of my birthday or what now?

Yui: I just felt like it…

( He’s just getting cuter and cuter! )

By the way… there’s one more thing I have to give you.

— Yui starts searching —

Ayato: A photo frame?

Yui: That’s so. I asked the school photographer to take this photo exactly when you scored and brought victory to your team. The happiness you felt in that moment… that’s something I always wish for you to experience.

— Ayato slightly blushes —

Yui: I also tried to decorate the frame myself based on what you like the most b-but if it’s too childish, then I will try to——

( He’s hugging me! )

Ayato: “What you like the most” she said, but how come I don’t see her there too then?

Yui: T-That’s—!

( Was that an indirect confession!? )

Ayato: Pfft… haha, that’s exactly the reaction I expected!

Love you, idiot. You really are the best~!

— Ayato stands up and starts walking away —

Yui: W-Wah—! Hey, d-don’t make fun of me like that!

Ayato: Can’t hear you~! If you wanna tell me something, catch me then!

Yui: You meanie!

— Yui stands up and starts running after him—

Yui: ( I can’t help but feel like a child once again when playing with him like that. It’s such a nostalgic feeling that somehow feels so distant... )

( As we run around the mansion, Ayato-kun is showing me his genuine smile… that’s the face that makes me fall more and more for him each and every day. )

( I love you Ayato-kun, thank you for being born. )

#diabolik lovers #ayato sakamaki #yui komori #dialovers #ayato x yui #ayayui #admin #(the edit is so simple but their smiles are so PRECIOUS) #(I love seeing them happyyyyy) #my edit

[turbulentscrawl]

The State of the Manor

Just some headcanons and explanations for the manor setting, both for me and y'all. Any requests for IDV, unless specified otherwise, will be based in this environment. For easier writing, I’ll be calling our realm “Reality” and the other two dimensional manors “Factions.”

★☆★☆★☆★☆

-We’ve got Eldrich time-space shenanigans, folks! The manor is a real place in Reality…but it is also connected to two overlapping pocket dimensions, serving as a gateway to them. When someone arrives at the manor with an invitation, it appears well-kept and pristine, and walking through the door links them to one of the two Factions. The next morning when they awaken, they have been moved from Reality and to their Faction manor. If someone were to come to the manor without an invitation on their person, it appears as it really is, abandoned and decrepit. In some Hunters’ cases, they are drawn to their Faction after death without any choice in the matter.

-Time works differently at the manor too. The days appear to be just as long as they were in Reality, but the moon cycle only takes one week. No one seems to be aging, even those who have been in the manor for 'years.' Whenever someone is injured or killed in the game, they awake the next morning in their bed, totally unharmed. There are no servants in the Factions, but amble food and clean water are mysteriously always available in the pantry. It's anyone's guess how much time as passed in Reality.

-The two dimensions are mirrors of one another, and they serve to divide the Hunters and Survivors. The manors appear similar to the Reality manor on the outside, but are far, far larger on the inside and always expand to accommodate new members. No one knows how it’s chosen who goes where, or how some people exist simultaneously in both “factions.” On full moons, the maps between the two dimensions blur together. Hunters and Survivors can cross paths outside of Matches on these nights, and how that goes depends entirely on the people who meet; the rules of next-day healing apply outside of Matches as well. Survivors and Hunters can not enter one another’s manors, but otherwise there are no rules regarding how they interact outside of matches. If someone tries to leave, they simply wind up back at the manor; the space inside the dimensions loops back together so there is no ”exit.” Letters can be sent between Factions members at any time, sent and delivered by unseen messengers.

-Matches always occur at night, but are otherwise unpredictable in their scheduling. Weeks could go by without any, or there may be several in one night. Mysterious invitations for matches are provided the night before it is schedules, arriving either at the person’s bedroom door or with their dinner in the dining hall. The invitations list the Survivors, the Hunter(s), and the map. When it’s time for the match, everyone simply appears on the map. A blink, and they’re gone from the manor. They have no say in the matter, so wise Survivors will make a game plan before start time.

-The pain felt in the dimensions, in match and out, is very real. Death is death, just one you wake up from. Bleeding out is therefore considered the worst way to go out in a Match, and even those who don’t like teamwork typically have sympathy enough to try to save someone left in that condition. (The rocket chair is scary, but all together painless. Like a bad thrill ride.)

-No one from either Faction knows what the point of the Matches is, or if there really is some prize waiting for them at an unseeable end. There do not appear to be any prizes or punishments for winning or failing respectively, but most people assume there is an unspoken tally being kept. Nonparticipation for either Faction is met with cruel (usually psychological) punishments including inescapable night terrors and non-healing. Inspired by the dwindling hope of a prize, and the manor’s otherwise comfortable conditions, most people aren’t willing to try defying the rules.

-The Feaster seems to have a greater knowledge and connection to the Factions than anyone else, but he will not speak of why or how.

#identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv headcanons #turbulentscrawl

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Destress

Nanami Kento x Reader

You were ready to cry and scream. Your stress level was reaching at its peak and every question that was marked wrong was starting to give you rage or tears. The sound of your cell phone ringing frustrated you more. You could’ve sworn it was on Do Not Disturb.

“Hello?” you answered, trying to mask the anger but it was very evident in your voice.

“Should I just leave you alone, my love?” Your anger quickly dissipated, your stress lowered, and you wanted to cry.

“I-I’m sorry Kento-kun,” you quietly said. Nanami chucked on the other line.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to check up on you.” You smiled at your boyfriend’s gesture.

“How’s your day so far, honey?” you asked curiously.

“It’s been good. I’ll be meeting Gojo-san’s student. Remember the incident at the cinema?”

“It has something to do with cursed spirits?”

“It would seem so. Hopefully it won’t take too long. Do you have time later?”

“I can take a break later this evening. I’m at the café right now, so I’ll take the bus going home around 6.”

“Perfect.”

Every now and then, you contemplated on throwing your laptop against the wall from frustration. You ordered about three cups of coffee throughout your stay there and a snack. Your stomach was grumbling. You wanted to go home and wait for Nanami to come back. But you knew you needed to pass this final. You had to study your ass off. You wanted that well paying job that way you could take care of Nanami, too.

It was getting dark out when you left the café and the sun disappeared when you arrived home. Your apartment with Nanami was dark so you assumed he couldn’t make it back on time, but the noises in the kitchen says otherwise.

“Kento-kun!” you yelled.

“In here!” he replied. You smiled widely and quickly kicked your shoes off. You skidded to a stop when you saw the kitchen. Candles were lit up on the counter. Your favorite food was plated beautifully on the table. A glass of whiskey sat next to one plate while a glass of red wine sat on the other. Nanami was pleased with your reaction. He walked up to you and took your backpack and placed it on the floor before leaning in to kiss you.

“Hello, beautiful,” he softly said.

“You did this?” He nodded and responded with a hum. “You came home early?”

“I did.” Now the tears came out. You haven’t been able to spend a lot of quality time with him for a while. You hugged him so tightly while you let your tears out. Nanami smiled and hugged you back tightly.

“Now, take a couple of hours off and focus on our wonderful dinner and me,” he said.

“I’ll do anything to get my mind off of school. You’re too good to me.”

“I just love you that’s all.” And after one last kiss, he pulled out your chair and the two of you enjoyed your dinner while happily talking to each other about your lives.

#cute #fluff #jjk #jjk kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami #nanami fluff #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento #nanamin #kento nanami

[makeste]

BnHA Volume 35 - A Brief Reaction Journey

hello! so as mentioned in my last post, I’ve started catching up with the BnHA manga again FINALLY after almost two years, and have made it through a fair number of chapters so far! and since I’m not sure how long it will take me to actually post the corresponding liveblogs, I figured I’d make a couple of posts in the meantime to sort of preview my reaction journey thus far with some good old-fashioned OUT-OF-CONTEXT BULLET POINTS taken from my ramblings. originally I was going to make a single post for all 25 chapters I’ve read so far (up to 367), but I quickly realized that was waaaaay too ambitious lol. so for now it’s just this one, and I’ll put up the vol. 36 post probably tomorrow afternoon.

spoiler warning: just fyi, this post will obviously feature spoilers for chapters 342-350*, BUT it will also include some stray spoilers from chapters 362 and 403 as well, so just a heads up for that if you aren’t fully caught up!

*chapters 340 and 341 are not included because I've already posted full reaction posts for each one here and here, respectively.

Chapter 342

Endeavor being taller than Jeanist just feels so WRONG to me regardless of whether or not it is factually accurate. does this mean All Might is also taller than Jeanist?? I don’t want to live in a world where Best Jeanist has secretly been a perfectly normal sized person this entire time. someone please lie to me and tell me that he is tall

many thanks to Kacchan for inserting this small bit of levity into this scene which was otherwise well on its way to sending me into a SPIRAL OF FEELINGS, and in fact still is whenever I look at that panel of Deku with Eri and Kouta, and also that GODDAMN HUG WHERE HE AND INKO ARE BOTH CLEARLY AND PAINFULLY AWARE THAT THEY MIGHT NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN, AND IN THAT MOMENT THEY’RE JUST TRYING TO HOLD THE OTHER AS TIGHTLY AS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE, AND SHE’S PRAYING TO WHATEVER DEITY IS OUT THERE THAT HE’LL COME BACK SAFE AND WHOLE, AND HE’S PRAYING THAT HIS MOM WILL BE ALL RIGHT EVEN IF HE DOESN’T COME BACK, AND NOT ALLOWING HIMSELF TO THINK ABOUT HOW MUCH HE ALREADY MISSES HER, BECAUSE HE CAN’T THINK LIKE THAT ANY MORE, BECAUSE THIS BOY IS FULLY GROWN NOW BECAUSE HE HAD TO BE, BECAUSE HE HAD NO CHOICE, AND I’M BOTH SO PROUD AND SO FUCKING SAD ABOUT IT AND I JUST NEED A MINUTE HERE ACTUALLY, OKAY!! OR FIVE MINUTES!!

LMAO WHAT AN AUSPICIOUS AND NOT-AT-ALL OMINOUSLY FOREBODING NAME. “hmmm what should we name our new class 1-A fortress?” “hmm well I was thinking maybe Troy, after the legendary city with the famously impenetrable walls, which to the best of my knowledge were never breached, or at least that’s what I assume since I never finished reading The Iliad! :) :) :) ...wait, why are you all looking at me like that. they didn’t actually breach them, right? guys? what happened to Troy? GUYS?”

I’m actually so proud of Deku because he’s come such a long way from the days when the mere CONCEPT of even TALKING to a girl was enough to floor him lol. but also I’m legit cracking up at he way he tried to segue into random small talk in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. gotta be smooth about it!! casual!! you can tell how casual they are because both of them are suddenly struck by the inexplicable urge to fuss with their hair!!

Horikoshi really said “FUCK YOUR SQUADS!! ...but if we had a Todosquad this is who would be in it I guess”

my god. between this and the OchaDeku conversation the villains truly do not stand a chance do they? and they don’t even know how screwed they are yet. REDEMPTION IS COMING!! IT’S KNOCKING ON THE DOOR, TRICK OR TREAT, Y’ALL READY FOR THIS

Chapter 343

so we’re opening with everyone’s favorite Guy With An Old Wad Of Chewing Gum For A Face, AFO!

did this son of a bitch kill Nao’s dad and steal his sexy lie-detector quirk??

sob AFO is all “can I have your son’s cell phone number please” and they’re all “SURE”

bonsoir little Yuuga

do. ...do you not actually know. was this meeting not prearranged. “why are you here Aoyama?” “why are you here, Deku?” truly, why are any of us here??

I’m sitting here trying to play the “guess which parts of this dialogue are real vs fake” game and coming up completely stumped on every single sentence

so Yuuga’s all “can you believe that even though the city of Musutafu is basically down to just U.A., a Dollar Tree, a couple of crumbling park benches, and one very determined Starbucks, we somehow still have functioning courts and lawyers?” I actually can’t believe that at all tbh. you’re telling me “it’s the fucking apocalypse” is still not a good enough excuse to get out of jury duty

damn, Aoyama out here with the trash talk and the ON YOUR LEFT?!

MONOMA??!?!?!?!

Chapter 344

“Eraser’s” plan, indeed. you dare say that right to Kaminari’s face

SHINSOU!!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?

HEYA YOURSELF YOU HANDSOME KNAVE!! LOOK AT YOU!! fucking loving the costume my dude! pretty please tell us your hero name to go along with it. is it MindCraft. I think your hero name should be MindCraft. don’t look at me like that Shinsou we need more punny hero names in the world

“yes well you see, I couldn’t do it, so I learned how to do it.” great story Shinsou

the way he’s rubbing the back of his neck there. are we gonna get some real Monoma character development at long last. feels like it’s long overdue and I am thrilled. he’s such a great character and I feel like we’ve only barely scratched the surface of who he actually is as a person and as a hero

THE UNEXPECTED VLAD KING MENTORSHIP WITH THE ARM AROUND THE SHOULDERS?? he really needed that support. outwardly he’s always made a big show of wanting his turn in the spotlight and begrudging class A for stealing the scene at every turn. but how much of that is really just an act. some of it? most of it? maybe even close to all of it? because right now he suddenly seems so small and young here and really wishing he wasn’t in this unenviable position of being one of the many World’s Last Hopes who are all way too fucking young

did Mirko’s giant robot hand just grow into an EVEN GIANTER giant robot hand??

long beautiful flowing mermaid hair. sorry what was I saying I kind of spaced out there for a sec

YES, AFO, ALL OF THIS TO SPLIT YOU UP YOU STUPID MUSH HEAD. MAYBE IF YOU EVER ACTUALLY FINISHED A MANGA IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE YOU’D KNOW HOW A FINAL BATTLE IS SUPPOSED TO BE CONSTRUCTED. YOU MOLDY AVOCADO

Chapter 345

“no you don’t understand, we have so many sixteen-year-olds whose coattails we’re all hanging onto. we have sixteen-year-olds who can take over people’s minds. sixteen-year-olds who can create portals to warp you halfway around the world in an instant. and let’s not forget the sixteen-year-olds who can act their damn asses off. we have the best sixteen-year-olds in the world. our sixteen-year-olds are so much better than yours you fucking losers”

Deku I swear. if I’m about to discover that the reason you weren’t there to stop Kacchan from being literally, actually, canonically murdered is because your distracted ass got yoinked into the void by some no-name villain chucklefuck, I’m gonna...

don’t listen to him Aoyama you were magnificent. you were my favorite in all of the stage plays

BUT IS PHASE TWO SUPPOSED TO INVOLVE DEKU IN ANY WAY THOUGH??? HELLO??? IS ANYONE LISTENING TO ME??? I’M FROM THE FUTURE AND THIS IS URGENT, PLEASE

“I fucked up Ochako, I fucked up so bad” omfg Deku

she doesn’t want to hurt you Deku she just wants to shower you in love. in her own special way. by stabbing you a lot

anyway have fun on this... tropical island??? I guess?? Kacchan will just have to hold down the fort in the meantime. which I’m sure will go absolutely fine

Chapter 346

“th-th-this is really bad, right?” yes Tamaki, yes it is. you’re stuck here on the Super Mega Ultra Radical Gnarly Cracked-Out Wonder Stage with Shigaraki Fucking Tomura and at least two of you are about to die and I’M NOT OKAY

so now we’re also getting this hilarious insight into the inner workings of the Mega Ultra Tremendous Stupendous Incredible Sky Coffin and it is truly, truly phenomenal

Horikoshi stop taking my sarcastic jibes and owning them completely challenge!! all the best sixteen-year-olds. all the finest greatest Hyper Ultra Sparkle Glimmer Wonder Battle Stages

this is genuinely one of the boldest lampshading efforts I have ever seen in fiction you guys

“yes, we acknowledge that this does indeed seem impossible to have pulled off, BUT have you considered that, fucking quirks though???? AND THAT THEY ARE, AS THE KIDS SAY, WILD??”

Chapter 347

lmao they’re shouting at Monoma accusingly and he’s all “I’M HAVEN’T BLINKED AT ALL YOU GUYS I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU”

don’t mind him, he’s just out here growing out his hideously malformed hands and fingers endlessly from every part of his body, normally, as one does. nothing quirk-related about it. anyone could do this if they simply exercise and maintain a balanced diet. this 100% is not a quirk y’all it’s just essential oils

SUDDEN MONOMA FEELS DELIVERED TO MY DOORSTEP???

awwww. the way he’s almost panicked, frantically wondering if he somehow fucked the quirk up and desperate for Aizawa to believe him that he’s trying his best. and Aizawa quick to reassure him. this kid is so desperate for approval. and unapologetically careening his way onto my top ten character list, welcome dear boy

so that’s that. see you in two years Deku. his last words spoken out loud to Kacchan were, and I quote, “wha --”

Aizawa is so hopelessly impossibly hot at all times and I don’t know how the universe can handle his existence. he’s even doing it without activating his quirk now. no ponytails or anything. just an eyepatch and a dream

don’t mind me, I’m just out here doing literal algebra to figure out how long it would take Deku to get back here if he traveled at the same speed as All Might did in chapter 90 (30 seconds per 5km, apparently). about 20 minutes, give or take. well shit. hopefully he’s a little faster than Kamino-era All Might was, especially since he can fly and has that Fa Jin shit too. or maybe Rody can fly him lmao. or S&S’s hot fighter pilot boyfriend

“what’d Sensei say, Deku?” “he said no, looks like I gotta uber. can I borrow your credit card, I promise I will venmo you back”

unfortunately for Deku he does not realize he’s accidentally gotten himself caught up in what will undoubtedly end up being the most erotic and bisexual of the various final battles

can’t believe Deku has like 6 love interests and out of all of them, Toga is the first one who actually asks him out. good for you girl. gotta shoot your shot

Chapter 348

FELLAS IS IT GAY TO BREAK OUT INTO TERRIFIED BEN DAY DOTS BECAUSE A GIRL EXPRESSED HER CARNAL INTEREST IN YOU????

anyway so since Deku apparently doesn’t understand how romance works either, he’s trying his best to give an actual response by recontextualizing all of this in terms of the one big thing he does understand: All Might

you’re telling me you never wanted to stab All Might to death and then turn into him?? wow I just can’t believe it

but also... okay lol. so I was thinking about this sarcastically, but was then struck by the very unironic thought that there sorta kinda is someone whom Deku does, both consciously and subconsciously, try to be like, and who he also kinda does apparently share the same heart and mind as. at least if chapter 403 is anything to go by lol. soooooooo. huh

god damn it Toga. absolutely none of what you’ve said or done here has been even the SLIGHTEST BIT reasonable. you can’t just tell someone you want to stab them and be their girlfriend. and if and when they try to let you down easy by responding with the MOST THOUGHTFUL AND GENTLE REJECTION ANYONE COULD EVER POSSIBLY MAKE UNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES, because they’re actually the WORLD’S NICEST MAN, you can’t just respond by doing whatever it is you’re presumably about to do, which I’m guessing is gonna be really violent and unhinged

so Ochako is all “ever since we fought last time I’ve been thinking about you a lot!” and Toga is all “are you serious, YOU broke up with ME bitch” and now she’s standing behind her with a knife

“she’s the least predictable of our opponents” YEAH NO KIDDING LOL

“everyone knows that Toga is actually Ochako’s villain, like ffs Deku you haven’t even interacted with her since the Provisional Exam arc.” Deku they’re 100% right and you’re looking more and more the fool with each passing second

well all right lol. twenty minutes to get back to Musutafu. let’s just hope he doesn’t run into any traffic on the way

Chapter 349

what the fuck is OFA Dos’s quirk exactly and are we ever gonna get to it before I literally die of old age. at this point there’s gotta be a reason why he’s not using it, right?? so what’s the deal there? does he still somehow not know how? is it too dangerous? and I really need to know why II has the Bakugou gauntlets. tell me this isn’t one of the things we’re still waiting on answers for two years down the line because I swear to god I will cry

anyway so Deku’s saying he’s doing his best but he’s still “too slow”. WELL THEN MAYBE IT’S THAT TIME?? DEKU?? WHAT DO YOU SAY

NO FUCKING WAY LOL, CAN IT REALLY BE THAT EASY??!

OH WHAT THE FUCK, FUCK YOU NOT!CCHAN LOL YOU’RE JUST HERE TO COCKBLOCK HIM?

fuck. so has he used it since then?? is he gonna use it finally now that Kacchan’s alive and well again?? oh my god I need to shut up and stop asking questions and just keep reading. fuck

wow so Dabi’s literally just burning the All Might statue while he stalls for time trying to figure out how to beat his OP little brother who was literally engineered to be better than him sob. out of all the villains he’s probably the most screwed right now isn’t he

starting to get an inkling Dabi’s not happy that he doesn’t actually get to fight Endeavor. getting some subtle hints here and there that he might actually be upset about that

apparently wanting to fight Dabi and stop him from helping to destroy the world makes Shouto a pawn. wake up Shouto. stop being such a sheep, Shouto. can’t you see that saving the world is exactly what Endeavor wants you to do???!

this is just going to be seventeen chapters of Dabi talking about nonsense while they both stand around progressively getting hotter both literally and metaphorically isn’t it

Chapter 350

OH SNAP. [SLAMS HAND ON TABLE] HERE WE GO. IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME

well, well, well. to the surprise of absolutely no one. the real one who was responsible for everything this whole time

but I just have to pause real quick before we continue. because it absolutely cannot be a coincidence that AFO just happened to be there once again. just waiting in the shadows to magically swoop in the minute disaster strikes. and so, just like with baby Tenko, this immediately makes me suspect that Touya burning himself alive was not in fact a training accident at all. which is something I did not expect, and which, just. fuck, fuck, FUCK AFO. fuck this guy.

looks like the children's ward of a hospital?? wait, what??

how the fuck is he still so adorable. when exactly did the transition take place between adorable and sexily unhinged. right now Todoroki Touya still looks to be the absolute most adorable child on the planet

I miscalculated. I was not emotionally prepared to handle this chapter right now. I should not have clicked

really love to see that Touya didn’t just cave right away. wouldn’t have felt right, ngl. just doesn’t fit in with what we know about his character

oh shit wait we’re cutting back to Dabi talking to Shouto and he says he did come back home??

fucking why. goddammit what the hell. why is this the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever read. LOVE HIM!! SOMEONE!! ANYONE!! just love him, please. literally all he has ever wanted!!

JESUS. I HATE THIS. I am so upset right now. out of all of the horrific and traumatic and terrible, awful things that have happened to BnHA characters in their flashbacks, the thing that hits me the most out of all of them is this one image of a sixteen-year-old boy standing before an altar, with his family very much alive and standing RIGHT FUCKING THERE IN THE NEXT ROOM, and yet somehow feeling more alone than he’s ever been. so alone he literally gives up all hope in this one moment. my god I feel all of it and it’s so fucking devastating I keep having to stop typing so I don’t completely break down sobbing

well damn. after a rush of 15 and 13-page chapters, which were all admittedly appreciated by me in my race to catch up to Light Fades to Rain before this coming Friday, Horikoshi finishes up the volume with one hell of a 17 page finale. once again the Tododrama delivers. this was fucking phenomenal

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha vol. 35 #way too many characters to tag so I am not gonna bother! #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #lotta 'calm before the storm' chapters in this one #also I was kinda disappointed by the cover of this volume ngl #but at least monoma and shinsou got their little moment on the back #vol. 36 post should be up tomorrow #vol. 37 post to follow once I finish the rest of those chapters #and then I'll start posting the actual recaps again probably in a couple of weeks or so #once I finish catching up

[lumienyx]

bloodless much?

I see @spacebarbarianweird's excellent point on Tav being unable to give Astarion blood that often since it would deteriorate their health.

But also listen.

One thing I love about DND sorcery is metamagic. At its most basic, it's ' twisting and adapting your spells to suit your needs.' Sure there are the canonical effects, but thinking outside game mechanics—technically as a sorcerer you can tinker with spells however you damn well please.

Which is what my Tav does when he makes a scroll that replenishes his blood faster than is humanly (or, well, half-elvenly) possible.

Astarion ends up drinking the extra blood, leaving Tav with just enough for him to function normally and go about his day as usual (something to be definitely included in touch too much ehehe)

Which means:

A totally valid canonical reason for Tav letting Astarion drink from him daily, sometimes several times a day, i.e. Astarion never has to go without a sentient creature's blood ever again and is always well fed

I'd assume the first times Tav attempts this don't go over that well and that makes his blood cells multiply a bit too fast. He ends up going over to Shadowheart, thoroughly embarrassed and asking for a complex healing session for the Serious Condition he really could not have ended up with that quickly, having to painstakingly explain to her what the hells even happened (spoiler: she is Not Impressed. “You’re seriously making me waste a day’s worth of energy fixing you up because you wanted to become an infinite blood bank for your thirsty vampire lover?”)

Alternatively, and this fits EVEN BETTER (thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for pointing it out), the excess number of red blood cells is called erythrocytosis, which is what Tav would accidentally end up with as he experiments. And one of the primary treatments for this is LITERALLY phlebotomy, i.e. removing blood. So Tav explaining the whole situation to Astarion would probably go somewhat like this...

“Uh, Astarion?” “Yes, my sweet—” Astarion frowns after taking one glance at Tav’s face. “What is it? You look a bit feverish. Is something the matter?” Tav bites his lip, feeling his cheeks grow warm as he speaks, “Well. Yes. And no? Kind of.” “Eloquent.” Tav heaves a deep sigh. “Anyway. Shadowheart sent me. She can’t heal this… disease I have—or, well, she can, but she actually said the best treatment is something you can do for me. And we need to get to it fast, otherwise I’ll die, so. Here.” Tav extends his wrist, bared and ready to be drunk from. Astarion only blinks at him, zero understanding in his eyes and now quite a bit more concern. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, love," he says. "Why exactly did our resident healer send you to get healed by me? Especially since this is serious? My talents lie in stealth, trickery, and necromancy as of late—and you still look very much alive.” “Blood,” Tav grits through his teeth, looking anywhere but Astarion’s face. “You need to drink my blood. A lot of it. I completely fucked up the strength of a spell.” “What spell,” Astarion demands, “would lead to you needing to lose blood?” “I wanted to create one that would increase the amount of blood I have by speeding up the body’s natural blood replenishment speed,” Tav explains to the clouds he’s distinctly observing. Anywhere but Astarion’s face. “And well. I ended up with far more of it than I need. It’s my first attempt, all right?” He forces his head to turn to look Astarion at last, who’s still staring at him blankly, with slightly parted lips. Probably thinking Tav is a massive idiot. “You can drink just about a quarter of my blood at this point," Tav offers weakly. "With no consequence.” Astarion doesn’t react at first. At all. Simply stands there before Tav, looking at him long and hard as if waiting for more words that never come, as the weight of embarrassment blocks all of Tav’s attempts at further explaining himself. “Well, darling,” Astarion finally says, taking the couple of steps that separate them—and suddenly, Tav feels Astarion’s hands on him, locking him in an embrace he’s happy to be captive in. Tav melts into it, mesmerized by the hungry look in those red eyes, as always comforted by the coolness of Astarion’s skin as he leans in to place a kiss on Tav’s neck. “How could I say no to such a delicious treat?”

Astarion gets his treat every day from now on. He is very happy with the arrangement

The result of Tav’s experiments is a Scroll of Blood Replenishment that I imagine Tav would stylize to look quite cool, red parchment and all. But since he would be making those scrolls on the daily, I guess the red would be a bit overkill to do that often and it ends up looking like any other scroll, much to Tav's dismay, but he needs to keep things efficient for his lover

In time, Tav learns to cast the spell sans scroll (does Gale help him out with it? sorcerer-wizard buddies ftw??) So, Astarion can just slide up to him, pull a Puss in Boots look, and Tav would just have to whisper a few words, his body instantly providing a filling meal for Astarion whenever and wherever they are

And I just think that’s neat, thanks for coming to my BloodTed Talk.

~~~

requests open

tag list (comment or dm to be added)

@spacebarbarianweird @satanicspinosaurus, @tallymonster, @tragedybunny

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanon #i just thought SO WHAT IF i'm bloodless after every long rest #Astarion is thirsty for Tav's blood and Tav is thirsty for his happiness #that's it that's the hc #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3

[webslingingslasher]

Build it better

Part 3 of Something in the orange

part 2

the long awaited final piece, i cannot thank everyone who rooted for this the entire time enough, you made me happier in the last months i've been in a long long time.

Warnings: Ned and Betty are the true heros in this story.

Summary: Peter is stupid, but he always wins.

You talked Peter into going out, you fought him tooth and nail for the bill, finally settling on “I won’t be your girlfriend if I can’t buy you dinner.” He immediately slid the check towards you. 

He walked with your hand laced in his down the street, it was slower now. Most action was done for the day, only a handful of couples or college kids were sharing the space, Peter walked slowly with you and enjoyed conversations about nothing. Like, who would win in a fight, a room full of feral kittens or a room full of preschool kids. You take cats, Peter questions how easy it is for you to count out kids. 

“Little kids are terrible with pets, they would be pulling them by the tails and swinging them around by their necks.” 

You counter react, “Sure, but it would only take one kid to get fucked up by a kitten and then the rest of them would be terrified.” 

Peter nods, “I choose cats.”  

The conversation dies down, both of you enjoying being together in silence. That was important to have with someone, don’t get it wrong, you and Peter spend endless amounts of time talking and laughing and theorizing, but there was never a need or push for it. You talked because you wanted to, not because the space would be full of awkward silence. 

You should be able to be silent with your person and still know what they’re thinking. 

Peter sniffed in the cold air, he was the runny nose when cold type and you were the frozen boogers type, a match made in heaven. 

He broke the silence first, he must have known what you wanted the whole day. He also knew you didn’t want to bring it up. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

You look over at him, you know instantly what he’s talking about. 

You nod, “Yes, please.” 

He nods then looks around, “Can I take you somewhere?” 

“Of course.” 

“You’ll have to ride.” 

“I don’t mind a taxi, especially when I’m in it with you.” You winked. 

“I appreciate it baby, but I mean a swing ride.” 

“Oh.” 

Say what you will but swinging around the city with Peter isn’t all that fun for you. It’s all the thrill of a rollercoaster with none of the safety, you know Peter would never intentionally hurt you but accidents happen and he may be alright with a bad spill but you wouldn’t be. He’s taken you around before but it was always your idea that you then regretted so you stopped asking, it always seemed fun until you were in the air with just an arm wrapped around you. 

“I know, baby. It’ll be quick.” 

You pout and stomp a foot, a little toddler tantrum. 

“A taxi can’t take us there, otherwise we’d already be in one. I’ll make it fast, promise.” 

You frown.

“I’m not even in the suit, I can’t go far.” 

You groan, “Okay, fine. But I’m closing my eyes the whole time.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“And don’t talk to me, I want no distractions while you're swinging me around all willy nilly.” 

“Got it.” 

“And I want a tight hold, Peter. Bruise me if you have too, I’ll freak out if you’re too gentle.” 

He salutes, “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Ready?” 

You sigh, “No, but yes.” 

“Great!” 

Peter steps forward and holds out his hands, you step forward and wrap your hands around his neck. 

“Leg up.” He taps on your thigh, you holster it to his hip where he grabs under your thighs to hold you against him, you look down as he holds you. 

“Wrap ‘em around me,” You cross your ankles behind his back. 

He pats your butt, “Good girl.” 

You assume the position and hunker your forehead to his shoulder and close your eyes tight, you hear a thwip and you start to leave the ground. 

A powerful shriek is ripped from you, “Arm, Peter! Arm, arm, Peter! Peter!” 

His right arm is wrapped around you tight, so tightly it’s nearly uncomfortable and pinchy. It feels extremely secure, you feel brave and peek one eye open to the city cutting by you. 

“Are you looking?” 

“Don’t talk to me, Peter! Hold tighter!” He squeezes you, you think a little air left your lungs. You welcome it. 

The second his feet touch the ground you latch on tighter, squinting one eye open to make sure it was a safe landing and not sudden death territory. You stayed wrapped around him for a second to catch your breath before dropping down. 

“Welcome back.” 

“Can I still get that ‘I Survived’ metal?” 

“Already have it on backorder.” 

You look around, you’re on a building. You’re not too sure where though, it had to be close but Peter could also go in the distance in just a few minutes. If you had to take a guess it was somewhere in the business district, tall skyscrapers full of the same office over and over. If you look closely at the buildings across from you, you could see a few offices light up, a couple of guys putting in extra work hours. You wonder if they’re trying to stay away from home because it’s too empty and cold, or maybe they were trying to escape their families. 

“Where are we?” 

He’s taken you to essentially, the middle of nowhere. 

There were things around but nothing of importance to either one of you. 

“Where I decided to end things.”  

You purse your lips, “Oh.” 

It must have been a place of importance to Peter. 

“C’mere.” 

You follow him towards the back of the roof, a small overhang from the bigger building behind it. You catch the puddle of stained blood on the cement near Peter’s feet. You have an achy feeling it wasn’t his. 

Peter notices you looking at it, you realize he wanted you to see it. 

“I was sitting here,” He turns to point at the overhang, you can imagine his feet kicking and dangling as he watches over the city. 

“And this guy I’d been back and forth with for a minute comes right in, I mean out of the middle of nowhere. And we’re fighting, it’s normal.” 

You nod, choosing not to speak, it was his turn to talk, yours to listen. 

“And uh,” He pauses to think, he knows there is no easy way to drop this bomb. But he’s come to terms with it, he’s forgiven himself and he’s able to talk about it now. But only with you, only you can get the whole truth. 

Peter runs his hands through his hair, you watch as he shakes out his hand after. He’s getting annoyed at the length, you step in to fix it. Reminding him why he’s let it grow. 

“I gotta be honest here, honey. I was getting my ass kicked, I hadn’t been getting sleep, you were sick and I was helping you catch up on schoolwork and I wasn't thinking about him. I was busy with other things and I didn’t think he was that serious.” 

He notices you frown, he didn’t mean to make it sound like you took the fight out of him. 

“I don’t like how that sounds. It wasn’t you at all, I just had my mind on other things and when he showed up I was unprepared. I just wasn’t expecting anything like it that night.” 

“I know you don’t blame me.” You shook your head, where was this going? 

Peter nods, “Good, where was I?” 

“You were getting your ass kicked.” 

“Oh, right. Okay, so this guy is just wailing into me.” 

You shudder, you never loved hearing about him getting beat up. Doesn’t matter how strong Spider-Man is, that’s your Peter. 

He noticed the recoil but continued, “And I was losing, badly. Then,” He lets out a dry laugh.

“Then, he asks me, ‘I wonder if Y/N was here you’d be trying harder?’ and I uh, I totally fucking lost it, Y/N.” 

Your breath caught, you always knew that was a fear in Peter’s mind. He always tried to tread carefully with you and Spider-Man so these things wouldn’t happen, he did his best to keep you separated from his alter ego but he guesses he didn’t do it good enough.  

This was the first time someone knew who you were in a fight, this was the first time Peter ever lost his temper. 

“Is that why you were nervous when I came by to see you as Spidey?” 

He nods, if he’s honest he never wants to see you again when he’s in the suit. 

“I hurt him really, really badly. After that I just, panicked. I had never done that to someone and I know it wasn’t, but it was because of you. I didn’t do a good enough job at protecting you, and you got looped into something that you have no place being a part of, and then you became a risk. Losing you became a risk.” 

“So you broke up with me because even if I hated you, you would still have me in your life.” 

It wasn’t a question, the pieces clicked. 

“I did.” 

“How bad is bad?” 

You know in your heart Peter could never kill anyone, right? 

“He was throwing me a mean right hook and as soon as he said it I grabbed his fist, and threw him off me. Then I just started punching, I just kept going. It wasn’t even a fight anymore, he stopped fighting back. He couldn’t. And I was so fucking angry he talked about you, that he knew your name and what you are to me. And I kept, fucking, going. He started to gargle on his blood and it sounded so good to me, to know he wasn't able to say your name again.” 

You had no words, how could your Peter do something like that? But he wasn’t your Peter in that moment, he wasn’t the delicate touches and tender words. 

In that moment he wasn’t Spider-Man, he was Peter using Spider-Man. 

“And then he stopped moving. Stopped breathing, stopped choking on his blood. Just, stopped.” 

He stared at the blood stain, you hated you were right when you guessed it wasn’t his blood. 

“And uh,” 

His voice cracked, you try to remember when he stopped making eye contact with you. 

He was ashamed. He thought you were ashamed. 

“It felt good, it felt really good for a second.” He said the words shakily, sniffling and turning his head to the sky. You knew he was trying his hardest not to cry. 

“Then I panicked, all that anger was washed away in a second and I felt disgusted and upset and dirty. And I did a scan on him, he was alive. But barely.” 

You couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief, not even for you, but for Peter. You don’t think Peter could ever fully bounce back if he had killed him. 

“He’s okay now, right?” 

Peter thinks it’s cute how optimistic you are. 

“He’s in a coma, still is. But, they expect a recovery. It’s medically induced, his brain is swollen.” 

“But he’s okay, right?” 

Peter pinched his face, “He’s in a coma, baby.” 

“I know, but he’s safe. He’s breathing, he’s getting help. He’s in a medical setting, and he’s alive because of you. You may not think you showed mercy but him laying in a hospital bed is proof that you’re not a bad person, right?” 

He ignored the last part, “Okay, he’s okay then. He’s okay.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“It wasn’t just about keeping you safe.” 

You tilt your head, “The breakup?” 

“I also never wanted to do that to another person, and I felt like you had a little too much power over that part of my brain. I just felt like I needed a break from you to heal that part of me, and that’s probably selfish but I just couldn’t pretend everything was fine and love you like nothing happened when something did happen.” 

“Looking back I think the breakup was a good thing,” He shared a look with you. “Honestly! I realized a lot of that hurt and pain I had was because I put too much on you. I let you give me every bit of my self confidence and worth and when it ended I realized I had nothing to give myself.” 

“And when you broke up with me I found that. I found my beauty, and my worth and I grew my confidence and I realized why you loved me. Losing you made me love myself, and that’s a lesson I’ll be thanking you for my entire life.” 

“Do you mean to tell me you hated me for nothing and breaking up saved our relationship?” 

“I think so.” 

Peter hummed, he actually agrees with you. 

“Well, do you think I’m a monster?” 

“Oogly boogly, I’m terrified of you.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Serious, come on now.” 

“No. No, I don’t think you’re a monster. I think it may even be a little off putting by how okay I am with that. Not that I think you should do that again, especially with me involved. But, I dunno, Peter.” 

You sighed, “I know that hurt you, and it scared you and it freaked you out. I get it, and you show regret and remorse and you changed by yourself, with no one in on the secret you realized what you did was wrong and you vowed to yourself you would never do it again.” 

You stepped forward to grab his arms, “You’ve punished yourself enough for the both of us. You broke up with me to make sure you would never do anything like that again. That’s growth.” 

“I love you, Peter. And trust me, nothing’s ever gonna change that.” 

“You’re a freak for loving a menace.” 

You smacked Peter on the chest and pushed him away, “Way to ruin a cute moment!” 

“You already told me you loved me, it lost the punch.” 

“No I didn’t! I’ve been saving that one.” 

“When you saw me earlier, I said ‘love you, bye.’ Then you said ‘love you too.’” 

“God damn it, you should’ve pretended you never heard that.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

Then he jumped up and down with a squeal, he threw his arms around your middle and lifted you up spinning. “She loves me, she really, really loves me. Never a doubt in my mind, cause she loves me!” You laugh pushing at his hands to set you down, “If it makes it better that's exactly what went through my mind earlier.” 

You grin, “It makes it better.” 

“You make everything better,” He pressed a fat kiss to your cheek. 

“You know what this means?” 

“Hm?” 

“You can be my boyfriend again.” 

“Fuck yes!” It was rare to hear Peter curse. 

“Not yet though.” 

“Oh.” 

“I still have to ask!” 

“Ugh, well. Can you do it soon?” 

“You can do it right now, tiger.” 

He narrows his eyes, “No, I don’t think I will.” 

“Then you can’t complain.” 

“Like hell I can’t.” 

—-------------------------------------------------

You needed the right way to ask, you were full of ideas but you chose to go big with it. 

Not public, you know that would freak him out. 

But exciting and sentimental for both of you. 

You had been having fun though, the past few days you’ve teased him relentlessly watching him squirm. 

Last night you told him, “If you say this one thing to me I’ll make you my boyfriend right now,” His head whipped to yours, “Anything, what?” You try to hide your laugh but fail, “I want to fuck you right now.” His nose scrunched, “Not worth it.” Which ended with a gasp and, “Peter!” 

You don’t want to admit it but you’ve been losing sleep over this a little bit. 

At first you were thinking of a scavenger hunt, maybe around the apartment that would end in asking him, but then it would feel a little out of place, the prize at the end was you. 

Then you thought about taking him out to dinner and asking and while it was a nice idea, knowing how you and Peter are and the history you had, it felt a little formal. 

After the third day you had to ask someone who had been through this before, him. He asked you to be his girlfriend in such a cute way too. You both passed notes back and forth all class and they were usually filled with doodles, interesting facts, confessions of want like, ‘I can’t wait to kiss you after class,’ or ‘I miss your warm touch,’ until one day, Sandra, who sat between you two had gotten the note from the opposite table where Peter sat. 

You opened the folded paper, biting your lip to hold in the smile. Peering up you looked towards Peter who had a similar grin who then nodded at the paper in your hands, you carefully unfolded it to see a message, ‘Check yes or no: Will you be my girlfriend?’ Except the no wasn’t an option, the options were ‘yes, of course I want unlimited access to you’, and ‘no, I am choosing to deny Peter any more kisses’. 

Looking up at him you narrowed your eyes, then held your hand in front of the note so he couldn’t try and make out your scribbles, then rolled your lips in your mouth as you passed it back through Sandra, you didn’t miss the subtle shake of his hands. He was nervous to ask you despite how much he knew he made you feel. 

Peter held his breath opening it, you had crossed out his no option, and checked his yes so many times he couldn't see the blank behind the box. Under his no you wrote out, ‘as if there were any other option,’ he scrunched the note up and held it to his chest before stuffing it in the bottom zipper of his backpack, he looked your way and mouthed ‘Thank you,’ you turned your head at him, confusion clouding you, ‘For what?’ 

Peter just shook his head like you didn’t understand, ‘For being mine.’ 

You’ll never forget that. 

Now you looked at Peter tinkering with the DVD player that had suddenly stopped working, cross legged in front of the TV his shirt bunched as he moved forward straining the fabric. 

“Help.” 

His head turned around, “Help with what, baby?” 

“Me.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You pout and feel tears pricking, it was so dumb but Peter made you feel so special when he asked and nothing felt right to you, nothing felt like it made sense, was it supposed to? It was just a question, one you already had the answer to. But he made you feel wanted and important and you wanted to deliver the same back. 

“I don’t know how to ask you, I’m failing.” You rub at your eye to stop the tears. 

“No you’re not, baby. It took me a minute to ask you too, I just went with my gut, do the same.” 

You pouted and despite fighting, tears fell, “No tears, c’mon now. No tears, it’s just a question.” 

“But, but,” You start to breathe harshly, Peter comes to sit next to you and tugs you to him. 

“Slow it down, we’ve got all night. Think about what you want to say, no tears, okay?” 

“I just,” You sniffle, “You made me feel so special and important and I want to do the same but nothing sounds or feels right and I can’t copy you.” 

Peter presses a kiss to your head, “I promise I’m simple back, I don’t want this to stress you out even more but I don’t care how you ask at all. I just want you to ask.” 

“It can be simple and you won’t be upset?” 

“Psh, you make me the happiest guy alive. I don’t need anything else.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry it’s taking so long.” 

He rubs his cheek on the top of your head, “We have nothing but time, I’m not going anywhere and I’m hoping you aren’t either.” 

“Never, never ever again.” You lean into his chest and let him hold you for a moment. 

“Good. Now, I’m going to leave you so I can fix this thing and then we can cuddle on the couch okay?” 

“I love you.” 

Peter looks a bit confused because, of course he loves you too but he wasn’t even leaving your sight. In fact if you stretched your foot out you could probably kick his back. 

He realizes it wasn’t about a declaration of love, it was you telling him you were trying, and please don’t give up. 

“I loved you first and I always will,” He winked, and even though he didn’t need help and it would actually be harder with two people he still asked, because he wants you to feel important to him. 

“Actually, baby, can you come over here? I need you to get a cord for me.” He pointed behind the TV, he didn’t need the cord, but pretended he did just to watch your eyes light up and skip to the wall. 

“This one, Petey?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You handed him the power cord, nothing would work now. 

Peter pretended to move things around then handed it back, “Plug it back in for me?” 

With your back turned he actually did what was needed to fix it, “Turn it on for me, please?” 

A click, then the DVD menu came to life, a loud cheer and hands jumped around his back. 

“We did it, Petey! Go team us!” 

“Go us!” He tapped your bottom and pushed you to the couch, “where you want me, champ?” 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

You needed outside help, you had a plan and needed someone to help pull it off and normally it would be Peter but that would be like asking him to wrap his own birthday present. 

So, you went to the man in the chair, his best friend in the whole world (you were an extremely close second), Ned. 

“I need your help asking Peter to be my boyfriend.” 

Betty squealed and bounced up and down on Ned’s bed, sometimes you wish you had a mini Betty Brant on your shoulder to be your own personal cheerleader. When you questioned yourself or felt unsure Betty was always there to double down on confidence. 

Ned rubbed his chin and nodded slowly, “I see, I see.” If he had a cat in his lap he would be playing ‘The Grandfather,’ before he could even get another word in, his blonde girlfriend piped in, her smile swallowed her face, you couldn’t help but match it. Her joy was contagious. 

“So what are we thinking? A carriage ride in central park? Oo! Maybe some roses and a bottle of champagne? No, no, I know! An aquarium date, he loves the aquarium!” 

You grinned and tilted your head as you thought over her options, yours was better. 

“I was actually thinking of a virus.” 

“Like the flu?” Betty was confused. 

“Or like Monkeypox?” Ned was also confused. 

“Babe! That’s insensitive, that’s like a thing right now.” 

“Would Ebola be better?” 

“No! That’s deadly!” 

“So is the flu!” 

“Oh my god, I cancel myself. Take me off the air, I don’t deserve it.” 

You cross your arms in the air calling for a break, “I meant a computer virus.” 

Ned seemed taken aback, like giving Peter the flu would actually be the better option. 

“A computer virus?” He shared a look with Betty, “Your great idea is giving him a computer virus?” 

You rolled your eyes and tugged your laptop from your backpack, “Not him, me.” 

Ned looked at Betty again. 

“Stop doing that!” 

He turned his head back to you, “Sorry! I just thought when you said you needed my help you needed me to get Peter out of the house or distract him with something, not infect your computer.” 

Betty nodded in agreement. 

“A fake virus!” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but how the hell will that make Peter be your boyfriend again?” 

You tapped your laptop against your forehead and breathed in deeply, “Well, Ned, if you would just let me explain!” 

He made a gesture of zipping his mouth and handing Betty the key, which she stuck in her pocket. 

“Okay, I have this idea. You put a fake virus on my computer, and I bring it to him and I’m all like, ‘Babe please help me I clicked on something I shouldn’t and now I’m hacked,’ and he’s gonna be like, ‘oh my god, I told you to stop clicking on the side ads’ and then when he tries to reverse it a pop up blocker appears and it says ‘Will you be my boyfriend?’” 

You blink at the couple and shake your shoulders, “Well?” 

“I think that is absolutely adorable! And so Peter, he’s gonna love it!” Betty beamed with confidence in the plan.

Ned looks to Betty, she pulls the imaginary key from her pocket and hands it back. Ned unzips his mouth, “Oh yeah, he would love that for sure. It’s gonna take me a minute though, if we’re trying to trick him it’s gotta be believable. If not, he's gonna have it figured out in a minute.” 

You pushed your computer at him, “What can we do?” 

Ned grabbed it and turned in his desk chair, he opened the screen and started to click around. 

“We can do nothing, I will do everything.” 

You pout, “I can help, Peter says I’m great at helping him.” 

Ned raises his brow, “Oh, is that what Peter said?” 

You gasp, “Why? Does he say I’m bad at helping?” 

Ned questions how he’s going to answer, “Uh, I mean, no?” 

You look at Betty and panic, “Am I bad at helping?” 

“No, not at all! You’re a great help, I’m glad I have you to support me when I need it!” 

Ah, that Betty Brant positivity. 

“Do you have any plans tonight, Y/N?” Ned shot over his shoulder, he was curious about his deadline, he also didn’t want to throw Peter under the bus. 

“Sleepover at Peter’s, nothing else, why?” 

“When do you need this done?” 

“Uh, when you can have it done, I guess. There really isn’t a time limit, just sometime this millennium.” 

Ned hissed through his teeth, “You drive a hard bargain.” 

You squint your eyes at him, he was being sarcastic and said you were a bad helper. You turn to Betty, she looks pleasant and waiting for your question. 

“Wanna get pizza? I’ll text MJ?” 

Betty hops up and wraps her scarf around her neck, she wraps her hands around Ned’s neck as he whines in protest and presses a fat kiss to his cheek, “Bye babe! Love you, I’ll bring you home a slice of hawaiian!” 

“And garlic knots!” His voice was muffled as you shut the door. 

—----------------------------------

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Get down, get down!” You whisper screamed at your friends, pulling a hand from MJ and Betty to get them to squat behind a concrete planter outside the pizza place. 

Betty freaks out immediately, ducking and covering her head with her hands, she starts whispering a prayer while MJ blinks at her hand in yours and shakes it out. She stands, sees Spider-Man looking at her from a building, then is pulled back down by your vice grip. 

“I said get down!” 

“Oh my god!” Betty cries.

“You’re safe Betty! Peter is across the street!” 

“Oh, okay!” She untucks herself, then circles back, “Wait, what?” 

“I told him I was in the district with my parents! He can’t see me here, he’s gonna know I lied!” 

Peter knows you lied, he doesn’t know why but he can literally see you behind the planter screaming at your friends. 

“I’m pretty sure he’s looking right at you,” MJ blinks at you then peers at Peter through a crack in the planters, he is. 

“Oh god, if he can see me, he can hear me.” You groan and look at Betty for help, she shrugs her shoulders. 

“Peter?” You whisper out, too scared to actually look at him. 

“You’re not him, you dolt. If he’s talking back you won’t hear him.” MJ was always the brain. 

“Oh shit. Uh, Peter, if you can hear me do something.” 

“It’s like you're trying to prove God exists.” Betty giggles. 

You hear the bell of a church across the street chime, double whammy. He hears and sees you. 

“Fuck, do I just get up? Pretend this didn’t happen?” You look at your friends for help then let out a scream when a hand touches your back. A guy your age is squatting behind you. 

“What are we hiding from?” He’s blonde and has a crooked front tooth, it fits him. 

“Who the fuck are you?” MJ was scared of no one. You commend her balls. 

“Jake, what’s up?” He reaches out a hand, MJ raises a lip at it and Betty and shakes it enthusiastically, “Betty Brant! That’s MJ and this is Y/N.” 

“Let’s maybe not tell strangers our name.” 

“Oh. Sorry, MJ.” 

“Y/N, you seem like the ringleader here, why are we hiding again?” 

You start to get nervous, it was obvious he was hitting on you and he was still touching you. 

“We’re hiding from my boyfriend, we’re playing a game and we can’t see each other.” 

Jake’s hand rises higher on your body, you notice MJ’s unwavering stare, ready to bite if you call for it. 

“Oh cool! Is it one of those race to win scavenger hunts?” 

“It’s uh, Betty is he still there?” Betty peaks her head around, “I don’t see him.” 

“Awesome!” You raise to stand, his hand floating down your back, brushing against your ass. 

“Hey!” You reach back and slap his hand, “The fuck? Did you just touch her ass?” MJ made sure to get the outside patio customers to look over. 

“It was an accident,” He raises his hands, Betty humphs at him. “That’s not very gentlemanly,” 

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s the ‘boyfriend’?” He used air quotes, you suddenly felt cornered. You don’t know where he went, probably got pissed you lied and swung away. 

“Right here,” Peter had appeared from nowhere, his collar buttoned all the way up, sleeves tucked into his thumbs, you knew the suit was underneath. 

“This guy?” Jake chuckled a little bit. 

“The last guy that said that was struggling to breathe,” You narrowed your eyes at the blonde and Peter rested a careful grip on your shoulder. 

“Okay! Let’s go.” Peter started to pull you down the street, you tucked under his arm closer and watched to the side to make sure MJ and Betty followed closely. 

Peter pulled all three of you into an alley, he looked at every face and gauged that everyone was okay. 

“Next time, we don’t worry about Peter seeing. We get away, okay?” 

MJ raised a hand, “I don’t care about you either way, I wasn’t the one that panicked.” 

Betty nods, “I’m sorry Y/N lied.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry I lie- wait, what the fuck Betty!” 

She jumped, MJ muffled a laugh. 

“Oh what? You think he’s not gonna find out you lied to him, as you are literally getting caught in a lie?” 

Peter high fives Betty, “What she said.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell him?” 

You huffed, “Tell him what, Betty?” 

She tightened her scarf, “that you came over to, oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“Yeah, she couldn’t exactly tell him that, Bets.” MJ came to your defense. 

“Tell me what?” Peter looked between everyone. 

“Nothing!” All three of you rang out at once and refused to look at him, it screamed guilty. 

“Uh huh, right. I’m gonna go back to city watching, get home safe and you,” He pointed at you and made a come here motion, you looked at the ground and pouted, you felt like a scolded puppy. 

“Don’t worry about me, okay, just keep yourself safe. I’m glad you had your friends with you and I’m glad I was right there, but next time think for yourself, capisce?” 

You nod, “Capisce.” 

“Good, c’mere.” Peter leans in for a kiss, both of your friends make a puke sound. 

You pull away to leave with your friends and Peter pulls you back in, “Love you,” your face matched his grin, “liar.” You drop your grin and grumble, “Love you too.”

—-----------------------------

“Did it die?” You press the keys harder, they clack but the screen stays blank. 

“It has a virus.” Ned shrugs, you tap the keyboard sporadically, finally a small figure appears, it jumps up and down on the black screen then makes a laughing sound, ‘Files lost, loser!’ blinks at you. 

“It’s inoperable, Ned.” You whine at him and try to bypass it, it’s impossible. You begin to think he actually infected the technology. 

He rolls his eyes and bites into his pizza, “I told you it had to be hard, cause Peter would be able to crack it in a minute.” 

“Okay well, I need to actually use it in the meantime, any chance that can happen?” 

Ned holds his finger in the air working on chewing and swallowing his bite, he breaths in, lifts the pizza to his mouth, “No,” then takes another bite. 

You drop your mouth, “No?” 

“Nuh uh. Not until he cracks it.” 

Betty smiles and taps his shoulder, “So smart, Neddy!” 

“No, not ‘so smart, Neddy,’ I can’t do any school work, I need to write my history essay!” You groan and tuck your head into your hand. 

“Sorry,” Ned doesn’t seem sorry with his careless shrug. 

“Use Peter’s, or if you want I’m going into school early Monday so you can come with me.” Betty shines a smile at you and picks a piece of pineapple off Ned’s pizza, she dropped it in her mouth forgoing Ned’s open jaw, he was saving that piece for last, it had the perfect crust, ham and pineapple ratio. 

“It’s due Monday, Bets. I’m gonna have to ask Peter.” 

Ned swallows his last bite and begs for Betty’s water bottle, then smiles. 

“Good. That was the plan, wasn’t it?” 

“I mean, yeah. But also, like, now?” 

“No time like the present.” 

You huffed and stuffed the computer in your bag before zipping it, “Fine then, I’m going to Peter’s to use his.” 

“Or you can ask him to fix yours?” Betty suggested calmly. 

“I don’t even know how it looks! I’m not sure this is the best idea.” 

Ned raised his hand in the air, it was weird how easily it settled you. 

“He’s gonna crack in, then try and find the “corrupted file”,” He used air quotes, “Then a big pop up blocker is gonna take over the screen and it’s gonna say “Will you be my boyfriend?”” 

You stayed silent, it was adorable and you know Peter will love it. 

“And it won’t be instant, right?” 

“He’ll have to dig around for a minute or two, just enough to get him in the zone.” 

“You’re sure I can’t see it first?” 

Ned shakes his head slowly, “Sorry, if I go in now it will ruin it. It will take hours to reset it.” 

You nod, Betty notices you stalling. 

“You’re not nervous, right?” 

You shuffle your feet, “I dunno, maybe.” 

Ned guffaws, “What? Why the hell are you nervous?” 

You shug and look at Betty, “What if he says no?” 

Ned stands from his chair so quickly it spins, “Okay, look. I kept my mouth shut, I learned early that you never stand in between in a couple so I’ve been a good friend to both sides. And, Y/N, I say this with only love, but you are so so dumb. I mean, what kind of a question is that? ‘What if he says no?’ Do you understand what he’s been working towards this entire time? There is only one god damn reason he’s been doing everything he’s done these past months, you. You are the only thing that is keeping him going, he is living on the bare hope of you accepting his apology. I know Peter, if, and I mean if, it didn’t work out he would act fine to you but he would break inside, there would be nothing left to him. You’re all he has, Y/N.” 

Ned breathes in and out, “I have never seen love like you two, I have been trying to match up with Betty, to have what you have. And I get it now, I get how Peter can feel so helpless because I feel like that everytime I’m not around her.” 

Betty wraps her hands around his neck and snuggles into him, “Neddy, I love you so much! I don’t feel the same when you’re not around, it’s like I have a gaping hole in my chest.” 

You shudder, “Is this what it’s like when Peter and I are in the same room?” 

“Worse.” They both respond at the same time. 

You suck in a deep breath, “You’re right, Ned. I have nothing to worry about, he loves me and he’s gonna say yes.” 

Ned nods like you finally understood him, Betty smiles brightly, “You got this, Y/N!” 

You smile back at her, it’s impossible not to. 

“I love you guys, you know? If you ever repeat this I’ll deny it, but I felt lonely without you guys. After the break up, I mean.” 

“Hear that, Bets? She needs us.” 

“I did hear that, honey.” 

You raise a finger, “I did not say that.” 

Ned hums, “I think you did.” 

“I really didn’t.” 

“Close enough.” 

You sigh, “Yeah, yeah. I needed you for computer help, guy in the chair. Nothing more.” 

Betty gasps, “She admits it! She needs us!” 

A groan rips from you, “I’m going to my boyfriend's house.” 

“That’s right, girl! Manifest that shit!” 

You sling your bag over your shoulder, “I’ll see you later,” You head for the door and turn back one more to the couple, somehow cuddling closer. “Thanks again guys, I mean it.” 

Ned stage whispers to Betty, “She’s acting like she thanked us in the first place.” 

“Okay, that’s it. I’m only talking to MJ here on out.” 

—-------------

Peter’s door never seemed scarier, despite Ned, you were nervous. 

And, fair to him, you didn’t really know why. It was in the bag, you were basically dating already, just without the label. It just felt real now, all the emotions of the three month split ran through you at once. The pain, the hate, the dispare, the confusion, the hurt, the loss. It sucked and you never wanted to go through it again, ever. Not with Peter, not with anyone. 

You shake out your shoulders and suddenly a knock pierces the hallway. You don’t remember knocking, then a hand on your shoulder. You jump away and yelp, you turn to see Peter wide eyed. 

“You good?” 

Your heart races, “What are you doing out here?” 

His eyebrows furrow, “I live here, remember? I’m going inside, what about you? You’ve just been staring at the door for three minutes.” 

“I uh, you know.” 

Yet again, Peter doesn’t know. He pretends he does. 

“Right, right. You’re here to spill the beans on your lies.” 

“What lie? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Peter marks a finger against his palm, he’s tallying up a score. 

“One more to the list.” 

He’s joking, he’s not mad. He’s not even curious, you don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. You assume it’s good, it means he trusts you, even if you bent the truth. 

You push his hand down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie.” 

Peter bounces the words in his head, “You just didn’t mean to get caught.” 

“Okay, maybe so. Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.” 

The door opens in both your faces, May’s hair pushes back from the breeze, “Are you coming in or what?” 

You pull Peter by the fabric of his jacket through the door. 

“Are you fighting? No more fighting allowed in this house, you understand? I just restocked the strawberry ice cream.” 

You salute, “No arguing here, just light banter.” 

Peter giggles, “She’s lying, May. She’s been lying all day.” 

“Oh my god, shut up Peter! She’s gonna think you’re being serious.” 

Peter tilts his head, “Am I not?” 

“Okay, that’s it. Bedroom, now.” You start to stomp towards his room, May looks over at him and hisses through her teeth, “Looks like you’re in trouble.” 

“Why am I in trouble? She’s the liar.” He raised his voice at the end, making sure you heard him. 

You did. 

“Peter!” You yell out his name in warning, May wide eyes him. “Better get over there, it’s gonna get worse by the second.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Boyfriend duties, she lies and it’s my fault.” 

“Peter, I swear to god I’m gonna kick your ass.” 

Your voice comes out muffled, ripping off your shirt you changed into one of his; pajama pants slipping on next. 

At last Peter comes in and shuts the door behind him, he raises his eyebrows at your shirt. He hasn’t seen you in his clothes in awhile, you said that was relationship stuff. He can’t help but imagine that means you’re in a relationship. 

“What’s going on with you?” 

You sigh, “How do I know it won’t happen again?” 

Peter’s confused, “What won’t happen again?” 

“Breaking up with me. How do I know that you won’t freak and end it if someone finds out who I am, or maybe five years from now things get tough with Spidey and you have to call it?” 

He blinks, “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s a shit reason but, I just know I won’t. I can’t promise you more than that, and I’m sorry. You’re gonna have to trust me, you have to trust me when I say I will never do that to you again.” 

“Okay.” You whisper out the words looking at his shoes. 

“Okay?” He cups your face, you look at him and smile. 

“Okay.” You nod in his hand and lean up for a kiss, “I trust you to never break my heart again.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure on a guy, you know?” 

“Mmm, I think you can handle it.” 

“I sure can.” 

He leans closer and looks in your eyes, “Is that it? That’s what’s got you worked up?” 

You lean away and groan, Ned’s words rang in your head. ‘No time like the present.’ You figure, ‘what’s one more lie?’ especially if it’s for the greater good. 

“No. I did something bad, you’re gonna be mad.” 

Pause, Peter is never mad. At least at you, he’s never gotten loud or stormy. He’s gotten annoyed and pissed but not mad. 

“Uh oh.” 

“Like super pissed.” 

“Wait, how pissed?” 

“Mega. Bar bathroom in Hell's Kitchen pissed.” 

“Oh geez. Lay it on me.” 

You look at your backpack, “It may be better if I show you.” You pulled it up by the handle, “Oh god, please don’t show me a dead animal.” 

“Is that your first thought? Really?” 

You unzip and pull your computer out, he groans, “did you put our sex tape on pornhub?” 

You whip your head to him fast, “We have a sex tape?” 

He shrugs, “We could.” 

You reach out your computer and turn your head away, “I can’t bear to look at it.” Peter looks at you unsure and grabs it, he sits on his bed and you follow him, you bounce down and he presses down on the side to steady it, his voice warning, “Y/N.” 

Peter opens your laptop and waits for the screen to wake up, when it doesn't he taps the trackpad. It stays black, “Baby, I promise I’m not being funny, but did you forget to charge it?” 

“Oh no, keep pressing around.” 

He looks at you and taps, it takes a minute or two but the preloaded screen pops up. The figure jumps up and down, the threat of corrupted files and name calling had Peter drop his jaw. He blinks at the screen, looks at your sheepish face then back at the screen, once more at you, then the judgment. 

“God damn it, Y/N. What the fuck did you do?” 

“I uh, you know.” 

Peter does know this time.

“I told you not to click on side ads! You’re worse than a ten year old with unsupervised internet access. I mean, seriously baby. I cannot believe I have to tell you this, but if an ad has a phone number attached or if doctors hate her, then for the love of god do not click it.” 

“I-” 

He kept going, “I told you I was going to install an adblocker but no, you swore you learned your lesson. And here we are, with a worse virus than before! I mean, this is gonna take all night! I may even have to get Ned in on it.” 

“No! Not Ned!” 

Peter looks at you with a side eye, “I mean it’s embarrassing. Like, I should know better, right?” 

“Yes. You should. But, here we are. Staring at the screen of death.” 

“Don’t say that, I have a history paper to write.” 

“The one I told you to start three days ago?” 

“Possibly.” 

“Alright, get your cute butt to my desk and start writing on mine.” 

“No!” 

He side eyes you again, “I mean, I want to see you do this. Because next time, I mean not next time because I won’t ever do that again, but maybe I can figure it out myself.” 

“You really need to start that paper, sweetheart.” 

You huff, “Ned said you think I’m bad at helping. Is that true?” 

His eyes widened, “When did he say that?” 

“Well, I said you thought I was a great help and he went, ‘Oh, is that what Peter said?’” 

“Oh, is that what Ned said?” 

“You’re deflecting!” 

“Ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about, baby. You’re an excellent help, you helped me with the DVD player, remember? And you helped me with my web shooters that one time.” 

He’s talking about you handing him tools when he asked, maybe you really weren't a great help. 

You feel upset. 

“You know what, maybe Ned can help me instead. Apparently I’m no good to you.” You reach for the computer and he leans to the left so you can’t grab it. 

“C’mon, no hostility. You’re a great help, even if you don’t think you are. I need you for moral support.” 

Now you were really upset, he admitted you were of no actual use. 

“Okay, you know what? I’m gonna go to the library and do this, I don’t need your help like you don’t need mine.” 

“Stop.” His tone made you actually stop, it made you pause and think that he actually does think you’re a great helper. 

“No, cause Ned is right. You do think I suck at helping you.” 

“I said stop.” He shakes his head and starts to press at what you believe are random keys, he’s actually just breaking back into the computer. 

“Peter!” 

“I’m not entertaining this any further, Y/N.” He sighs when his attempts are futile, he starts again. 

“Okay, deflecter.” You mumble under your breath, you know he hears you. He hears everything. 

“Don’t make me shut you up,” He mumbles back while tapping, he huffs this time, he tries once more. Ned wasn’t lying when he said he made this difficult. 

“No really, It’s fine. I’m just literally never gonna help you with anything ever again because you only ask to make me feel better.” 

Peter deflects once more, “See what I’m pressing? I’m holding these at the same time and when I let up you hit this one. It should be an entire system override, no matter the virus you should be able to get back into your screen. That way you can see how affected it got.” 

It worked, “This one?” 

“Yeah, hold these two and stop when I tell you to.” 

“Okay!” 

Peter is glad you can switch your attention on a dime flip, “Stop! Now hit this one, and if you’re luckier than me you should be able to break in.” 

You press it, and it works. You are met with your homescreen, you cheer. 

“See? I needed your help, you got the magic touch. Without you I’d still be nowhere.” 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Parker.” 

“Is that the saying?” 

You shrug, “Close enough.” 

Peter holds control and R for a while, a popup block hits the screen. He then selects system preferences and enters into the computer bio. All you see is binary code, repeating zeros and ones in no clear order, at least to you. Peter is scanning through each code, his eyes running over every number. 

“You can read binary code?” 

He nods and keeps searching. 

“That is so hot.” 

“Thanks, baby.” 

You chew your lip, “Last time you used a scanner.” 

“That was a regular bug, this one is too deep in the system. It wouldn’t register with a malware scan.” 

Peter's eyes race through the screen, it would be deemed impossible to most human eyes but similar to reading text, you can spot the typo. Peter could spot the binary typo, it was just a matter of identifying it. The hardest part is that he doesn’t know what he’s looking for until he finds it. 

“Aha! Get out of here!” 

You watch with a held breath as he selects it then deletes. It is immediately returned to the system, Peter draws his head back and looks at you. 

“Where did you say you got this from?” 

“Uh, I’m not sure.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned closer at the screen, he’s making sure that what he’s seeing is correct. It was an extremely powerful virus, not a simple bug or keyboard hack but an entire system overhaul. He would be lucky to actually remove it, he’s never had a virus come back after being deleted. 

“Baby, this is a pretty hardcore virus. You’re not just going to pick it up off a google ad. What were you on?” 

“Maybe I was watching porn or something?” 

He looks at you, “Those are mostly penis enhancer pills, got anything to tell me about?” 

You push his arm, “No! I don’t know, maybe it was when I was exploring the dark web.” 

He scoffs, “You don’t know how to get to the dark web.” 

Peter is telling the truth, you have no idea how to get there. 

“Yes I do!” 

“Oh really? How?” 

You sputter, “Well, I can’t tell you because I don’t want you to get on there.” 

“Baby, I cracked into there when I was ten. Don’t try me.” 

“And I got there the same way.” 

“Through Google?” 

You nod, “Yup! Just googled it, Petey. It’s not hard.” 

“Oh see, now I know you’re lying. You can’t get on it from google, you need to download a VPN and TOR, then hack in or get invited through a link.” 

“And you did that at ten?” You were slightly doubting him. 

He stares at you blankly, “I can read binary code, Y/N.” 

You purse your lips, “Okay, true.” 

“Seriously, how did you get this thing?” 

Peter once again attempted to delete, it swung right back in. It was getting harder, it wasn’t going back to the same spot. It moved all around, he had to keep fighting to search for it. 

“And don’t lie, you’ve done that enough today.” He was teasing but warning. 

“I really don’t know, honest. I gave it to Ned to borrow, when I got it back I tried to do my paper, and I saw that.” It was slightly true, you did let Ned borrow it. 

“Ned put this on here? Why was he borrowing your laptop?” 

Fuck, he’s got you there. 

“Well, I gave it to Betty, actually. Then I guess Ned used it, and when he gave it back, bam! Virus.” 

“Ah, while you were out with her and MJ?” 

“Yes! Exactly!” Peter just helped you with a lie he didn’t know he was part of. 

Peter let out some soft swears, he was getting pissed. 

“Fuck off,” he whispered at the screen, the visual character popping up laughing calmed no anger. 

“What are you doing now?” You tried to peer at the screen, you were half watching him and the screen. You weren’t sure when the message would come through, you didn’t want to miss his reaction. 

“Trying and failing with my girl watching, not a great feeling.” Peter sat up straighter again and searched over and over for the code. Little did he know Ned thought this over extremely carefully, he implemented it in the system for it to change patterns and virus’ after three attempts. 

Peter is racing his eyes over each line over and over, he knows it’s not gone, but it’s gone from his eyesight, and that is worrisome. He genuinely doesn’t know how you, or Ned got it. Peter’s actually never seen something like this, heard of it but it’s rare. This is a deep, deep hack. 

He wants the pressure off him, he can feel your eyes burning into his back and it’s starting to make him anxious. He’s failing at helping, he hates that. 

“So, liar, any reason why you were spitting them out today?” He tossed the words over his shoulder, you pulled your back from the wall the bed’s pressed against, you tug at his elbow and whine, “Don’t call me that!” 

“Why? The guilt is too hard to handle?” He breathes heavily out his nose from his own joke. 

You push your cheek into his shoulder, words coming out muffled because one half of your face was squished into Peter’s body; your entire weight was leaned on him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not a liar.” 

“But you did today.” 

You nod against him, “I did today.” 

“Why’s that? You don’t have to hide your friends from me, I know you have ‘em.” 

You move your head to bite lightly at his bicep, he shakes you off, “menace.” He actually doesn’t mind it this time, it’s been a while since you did that. It used to annoy him at times but similar to your favorite nickname to use on him, he missed the things he used to think were a nuisance. He missed you doing those things. 

“I love you.” You kiss his arm and move back to leaning into him. 

“Looks like both of us are deflecting tonight,” He tsks and your cheek hardens when he flexes his bicep, he’s got his fist clenched in anger, he nearly slammed it down on the computer, he’s glad he restrained, you would probably never speak to him again if he broke it. 

“Break it and you die.” You warn him.

“Your heart, or the laptop?” He chides back. 

Your eyes narrow, “Yes.” 

He hits delete on the file for the fifth time, he holds his breath steady. It’s deleted, his air deflates from his lungs slowly, “Fuckin got it.” Peter cracks his knuckles and smiles proudly, you sit up quickly, Peter feels the cold air seep into the cotton of his shirt where you rested. Panic was smeared across your face, you were glad he couldn’t see your face. 

“Wait, what?” Your reaction had Peter throwing his head at yours, “Is that not what you wanted me to do?” You sound upset, you grab at the screen in his lap and shake it slightly, then slap your palm on the empty space next to the trackpad. “Woah!” Peter pulls it away from your hands, “What’s up with that?” You shake your head and try to pull at it again, “It shouldn’t of been that easy, it was supposed-” 

You were cut off. 

The screen flashed red, an angry face appeared on the screen, big bold black text followed.

‘TRY ONE MORE TIME, I DARE YOU.’ 

“What the fuck?” You both spoke and stared at the screen. 

It kept flashing, you had no idea what was going on. You were starting to believe you were actually hacked. 

“Peter, I don’t…” You trailed off and watched the flashing red. He thinks of what to say, he can get this figured out, he’s sure of it. 

“I think I know why this is happening,” He nods his head, he’s sure of it.

“Wait, you do?” You were excited but let down, you wanted him to see the surprise, not guess it.

“I think I do,” He draws out the words and looks at you. 

“Why is it happening, Peter?” You whisper the words. 

“Because,” He pauses and lowers his voice, a secret between you both. “Because, you lied.” 

You groan and throw yourself flat on your back, “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re joking but you’re also serious. I just,” 

“No fighting, right? Cookies? Good time for cookies?” May pushed through the door, a steaming plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies was held in front of your face. She also pushed a glass of strawberry milk in your hand, and you accepted it with a smile. You couldn’t help yourself and took a gulp, you were nervous. You didn’t want to lie about the lie, it was getting harder to cover. 

May was a third party, you could tell May. 

You handed the glass to Peter to set it on his nightstand, thinking about the condoms in the drawer made you smile, it was so innocent and dirty in one picture. 

“May, can we talk? Please?” She tilts her head at Peter, he shrugs. He doesn’t know either. 

“Of course, darling! Peter, take the cookies.” She handed them to Peter, he sat the plate down and then grabbed one to munch on. You stand and speak clearly for Peter, “Don’t listen in, seriously. Don’t.” 

“Got it,” The words muffled, he gave you a thumbs up. 

You nod and walk out with May, you turn back quickly. Peter’s hands working on the screen, “And don’t touch that until I come back.” 

“It’s no biggie, I’m sure I’m close.” 

“No! Don’t touch it, I’m serious Peter!” 

He looked confused but promised he wouldn’t. 

May had you backed into the hallway, you were hoping Peter was staying true to his word and not listening in. “What’s that about?” 

“I lied to Peter today.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“It’s for a good reason, but I can’t tell him that.” 

“Why not?” 

“It will ruin it.” You shake your head. 

“Ruin what?” 

“The surprise,” you whisper but know it’s useless if he’s actually listening. 

“What surprise?” 

“I had Ned put a fake virus on my laptop, and I said I was going to the district with my parents but then he saw me at lunch with MJ and Betty, and I can’t tell him why I lied cause it will ruin it all, and I don’t want to lie about lying.” You breathe it out in one go, May still looks lost. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But, what will you ruin? I’m lost, dear. You said Ned put a fake virus on your computer?” 

You smile at her, she’s going to be more excited than Peter.

“I’m asking Peter to be my boyfriend tonight.” 

May’s scream was automatic, she hurried to put her hand over her mouth but Peter’s head popped out from the doorway anyways. “You okay?” 

“So okay! Oh my god, congratulations!” May wraps you in a tight hug and sways you back and forth, you giggle and squeeze her back. 

“Oh god, did you get a promotion?” Peter groans. 

“No, but you’re about to,” You wink at him and head back to his room, pushing him back in by a hand on his chest. 

“You swear you didn’t listen?” You look him over, he wouldn’t be able to contain the excitement if he did. 

He holds up three fingers, “Scouts honor.” 

“But, I did touch the computer.” 

“No!” 

“Don’t worry, I found it but I'll give you the honors of doing the final delete.” He grins and taps the seat next to him, you ready yourself and reach your arm over. 

You delete it.

A big pop up box appears. 

‘WILL YOU BE MY BOYFRIEND?’ 

You hold your breath and blink at the screen, you wait for Peter to notice. 

“Huh?” Peter furrows his brow then closes out of it. 

He presses again, the same message. 

Peter humphs and closes it out again. 

‘WILL YOU BE MY BOYFRIEND?’ 

It’s spelled out boldly, you know he sees it. 

He shakes his head and closes one more time. 

Your heart sinks, it didn’t work. You tried so hard to make it special, make it just right, something he would love, something he would understand immediately, and he’s not. He’s breezing right past it, something that’s literally in his face. You can’t help the tears that cloud your eyes, you watch as he closes it one, two, three more times. More and more frustrated with each time. 

You feel one tear fall, then two, then they start to stream. Peter doesn’t notice until you sniffle, he knows your cry sniffle. 

“Hey, no crying. It’ll be okay, I’ve almost got it figured out.” 

Peter reaches out a hand but you smack it away, “No, you don’t almost have it figured out.” 

“Baby, I promise I will. I’ve just never seen anything like it before, I mean, what kind of message is that?” 

You sob at his words, it was a total fail, you feel sick. 

“I’m just gonna take it back to Ned’s, he put it on there in the first place.” You were defeated and terribly sad, this is exactly why you didn’t want to do this. You rubbed your nose and reached for the tech, Peter raised his shoulder to block you. 

“What? No, you’re already here, just let me do it.” 

“You’re not doing it right!” You feel your chin wobble when the words tumble out, more tears running. 

“Baby, I’m trying, okay? I’ll get it back and it will be just like brand new. It’s just a dumb message, don’t freak.” 

Peter’s trying to be sweet and supportive, and it would work literally any other time. 

“It’s your message!” You almost shouted the words, your breathing became harsh. He thought it was dumb. 

“What do you mean it’s my-” He looked back at the screen and re read the words, he checked again. ‘WILL YOU BE MY BOYFRIEND?’ He dropped his jaw, that's why you wanted to look over his shoulder so bad, and wanted him to wait before he kept digging. He assumes that’s why you lied, you were busy putting this together and he just shit all over it. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Peter’s never sounded more delicate.

You shake your head, it makes you cry worse. 

“C’mere,” He reaches for your hand but you shake your head again, he can’t take it back. It felt entirely ruined. 

“Baby, look at me.” His words were gentle but demanding, you look at him and pout. 

“You ruined it.” 

He nods solemnly, “I did. I know I did.” 

“This is why I didn’t want to do this, it was a stupid idea.” You sniffed and wiped away your tears. 

“Hey,” His tone was offended, it wasn’t stupid at all. He was.

“It’s not stupid, I was stupid. It went over my head, I wasn’t even thinking about it like that.” 

“First you think I’m bad at helping and now you think the way I asked you out was stupid. Maybe we shouldn’t get back together.” You didn’t mean it at all, you were hurt. 

Peter knows you’re acting like this because you're hurt, he’s learned that much from the split. 

“Come on now, you don’t mean that. You’re just upset I didn’t catch on, now c’mere.” 

You slowly waddle to stand in between his knees. Peter pulls at your hands and makes you look at him, “You are an excellent helper, I’m sorry I made you think you aren’t. You never complain, even when I get cranky things aren’t going my way. You do whatever I need you to do and you do it happily, even when you just sit next to me, it makes me work better, because you’re watching me and I want to impress you. I need you as my little helper, I always will.” 

You nod and grab one hand in both of yours, you slowly turn it, playing with his fingers and tracing his watch. He’s made you shy, it’s a good thing. 

“Second, it wasn’t stupid. It’s a really smart, sweet way of asking me. I just wasn’t thinking of it like that, Ned played it off so good I really thought it was a wonky virus. That’s why I said it was stupid, not because I don’t like it. I love it, I really do. It’s a geeky way to ask me, and that’s why it’s perfect.” 

You mumbled back to him, you pressed the button on the side of his watch and watched it transform into a webshooter. You lightly pressed at the circular tab, a web hit his ceiling. He acted like it never happened, “You still ruined it.” 

Peter nods, he agrees to the fullest extent, “I did.” 

You press again, another web shoots out. 

“I tried really hard.” 

Peter smiles sadly, “I know you did, I’m sorry I didn’t react how I should’ve.” 

You press the button on the side, it retracts back to a watch. You press and watch it transform again, you do it one more. 

Peter grabs your hand when you try again, “Look at me?” 

You oblige. 

“I would really, really love to be your boyfriend, if you’ll still let me.” 

You shrug nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. You untuck the corner of your bottom lip you were chewing on, “If you wanna.” He pulled you on his lap, pushing the computer off to his side. 

“Of course I wanna, I've only been begging for months.” He pushes you in to hold you tightly against him, you feel your chests move in unison, one breath in, one breath out. You keep yourself pressed to him for a minute, no words were needed. 

You huff into his shoulder and think about it, you push yourself away from him by your arms on his shoulders. 

“Petey?” 

“Yes?” 

You breathe in deep, “Will you be my boyfriend?” 

“What are the terms and conditions?” 

“Love me forever and ever, and never break up with me again. Cause if you do, you'll have to pay for my therapy.” 

Peter throws his head back in a laugh, “Deal.” 

“Deal?” 

“Yes, I would love to be yours, again. And forever and ever.” 

You both look at eachother with a smile, until he pulls you in closely. 

“I wanna ask you something,” You look impressed. 

“Me? Little old me?” You make a motion of flipping your hair back. 

“Can I kiss my girlfriend?” 

You nod quickly, and fuck what you’ve said before. No kiss has ever felt this good between you two, it was home. You finally felt at total peace, he was yours and you were his. It was the way it was supposed to be. 

Breathless you open your eyes, “You’ve been waiting on that one, huh?” 

He can’t help himself, he pulls back in, “You have no idea.” 

—------------------

THREE MONTHS LATER,

“Peter I swear to god if you’re not here in the next five minutes I’m sending out a bolo on Spider-Man.” Your words were threatening on the phone, Peter winces on the other line and dodges a fist. 

“Baby, I promise I’m on the way.” 

You hear grunting and silence, you start to steam. 

“Please tell me you’re not fighting someone right now.” 

Peter stays silent, you hear a whizzing sound. 

“If you tell me that you were late because you had to stop and fight crime I am gonna be so pissed.” 

“I’m not fighting anyone, I’m almost there.” 

“Lies!” 

“I’m not! I was fighting with someone but I’m not anymore, I’ll see you in like thirty seconds.” 

“They’re about to call you up, I’m not kidding.” 

You hear him swing faster, “I know, I know, did you leave the gown where I told you?” 

“What you should’ve done, is gone with me, like we planned, remember?” Your tone was clipped.

“I remember, did you leave it there?” 

“But no, you had to go on your own. I knew this would happen, but no, don’t listen to me. It’s fine, I only told you that you would do this, and what did you say?” You were barking orders from behind a tree, you had to resituate the cap on your head, it started to slant down. 

“I said I wouldn’t stop, but I’m about to be there. Did you leave it?” He was running out of breath, he can’t remember the last time he swung this fast. 

“And this wouldn’t be an issue if you let me around Spidey, but nope, lost that privilege. So now I can’t even make sure you’re on time, I just have to trust you and now you’re late.” 

A grunt on the line, he landed. 

“Baby, where did you put it? It’s not here.” Panic, he was going to be late. He didn’t know who would chew him out more, you or May. You, he could win back over with a date night and a few kisses, May would just shake her head every time he would try to explain it to her. 

Peter knows your right, he shouldn’t have stopped for that guy. It was supposed to be a quick in and out, he didn’t expect you to be on his ass but he should’ve. 

“Are you even dressed right? You have your slacks and button down on, right? Please tell me you brought shoes, I swear to god if I see those red boots under your gown I’ll scream.” 

“Yes! Yes! I’m dressed right, where the fuck did you put it, Y/N!” 

“No cause you wouldn’t be talking to me if you did, I know you’re talking through Karen!” 

He sighs, he sees you tucked it behind an exhaust pipe. 

“I’m talking to you through Karen so you can tell me where my gown is, but I found it.” He pulls it over his long sleeve and zips it up. He’s about to jump down when he pulls his mask off and drops it on the roof. 

“And another thing! If I’m doing you a favor and going out of my way to make sure you’re taken care of, the least you could do is show up on time! I mean I-” The buzz of the phone makes you notice he ended the call before you could give him the last piece of your mind. 

You stare at your phone, insulted he would hang up on you. You huff and shove it in your pocket, “fucking prick!” You mumble insults under your breath, “Hey, no need for hostility. I’m on time, see?” 

“Late to your own graduation, Parker! Who does that?” 

You spin to face Peter who shugs sheepishly, “I said I was sorry, I’m here and my name hasn’t been called yet. It’s all good, now where’s my cap?” 

You huff and pull it from under your arm, Peter leans down so you can secure it tightly. You fix the tassel in a straight line and smile at him, he looks down right adorable in his graduation blue. 

“You look cute, I need to see more of you in ambiguously shaped clothing.” He winked and you scoffed, “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Mr. Parker.” 

“You said it gets me everywhere.” 

“Yeah, well, not today!” 

You both follow the line, due to alphabetical order you won’t be sitting next to each other. 

He pulls your arm and you step out of line, you flash an apology smile to the guy behind you. He nods his head, your spot is saved. 

“Hey, one more kiss? While we're both in high school?” 

“I guess so,” You sigh and lean up for one. 

“You know, you’re my highschool sweetheart.” 

“I guess that means you’re mine too, Parker.” 

“You made it the best four years, I mean it.” 

You squirm, “Don’t get all mushy, you’ll make me cry.” 

Peter’s name is announced as Valedictorian, he has to go to the stage. He presses one more kiss, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest when your name is called, I love you.” 

“I love you too, handsome.” 

After the graduation you both took pictures, some with parents, alone, friends such as MJ, Betty and Ned, even flash made an appearance in a group photo. You then trekked into senior send off dinner, where the entire class got together for one last shared meal, never again would you see those faces in a cafeteria. 

Peter sat by you the whole night with a hand on your thigh, even though it was just hours after your high school career ended it gave you a sense for the future, Peter would always be by your side and he would always be the smartest in the room, you noted and loved the way he would be able to share a conversation with anyone he passes by, he’s perfected the craft of knowing a little of something about everything. 

You ended the night at Peter’s, May had baked a cake with a fat congrats roped across the top, she kissed both of your heads and wiped tears with a “I’m so damn proud of the both of you,” before she left for the night. 

Now, you had both unzipped from the gowns and you watched them lay puddled on the ground, there was no need to hang them anymore, their purpose fulfilled. You sat your diploma next to his on his desk, Peter undid the buttons on his sleeves and rolled them up carefully. You watched with heavy eyes. 

“I’ve been working on something,” He drawls, he tugs at his button down and you melt inside. 

“What?” 

“Lay back,” He points at his pillows, you make a confused face. 

“What for?” You listen and lay back, Peter comes to stand over you. 

“I’m gonna fuck you.” The words came thick from his throat, something tells you you won’t be hearing that often. 

“Oh my god, this is the best graduation gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Is it really?” He’s on the bed hovering over you, he’s looking at you like he’s about to fucking devour you. 

You nod, “Tell me one more time?” 

He leans in, he kisses you for a minute. He trails his marks down your neck and collarbone, he kisses back up into your ear and whispers, “I said, I’m gonna fuck you.” 

“I am so glad you dumped me, you have no idea.” 

He looks puzzled for a moment, “Me too. We’re gonna build it better this time around.” 

You nod and tuck your bottom teeth into your lip, “Yeah, we’re gonna build it better.”

#peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #peter parker drabble #peter parker imagine #peter parker mcu #peter parker #my writing

[happy-beeeps]

A Promise Kept

A Tech x reader one shot where everything is fine! We're all fine!

WC: 5.2k

CW: Canon typical violence, descriptions of injuries, drug usage, blissful ignorance of physics and canon deviation. Angst, hurt comfort, fluff, all the good stuff

Summary: What am I if not a clone lover. A fix-it fic made for my irl bestie @scoobydoobydaisy, consider this your late birthday present. Thinking of all my fellow Tech girls who want to live in the world where he’s ok. Welcome! You’ve made it! This is my first time writing for tbb and for Tech, so I’m still working out the kinks, but I’m happy with it. Also if anyone tries to say anything about the survivability of that fall I’m ignoring it let me live in delusion.

(also i live in the reality where this fanart by papanowo is how Tech’s hair looks always because I swear to god I saw this and it changed my life.)

((also I prommy I'm working on the new chapter of BCS, I accidentally got inspired to write chapter 14 so I did that instead oopsie, but if it's any consolation, we've got like 9 more chapters at least of that to go!))

The quiet was what consumed you at first, the lack of chatter and softer clinking of glasses. Then it was the smells, in a broad sense the defining scent of Mantell Mix but, in a more intimate way it was the smell of the grease after he would repair the Marauder, or the fresh, clean scent of his skin in the rare moments you would lean past him when collecting the Batch’s glassware at the bar. No, when the Batch left Cid’s it was him being gone that consumed you, that Tech, your Tech in every way but reality, had left with his team in pursuit of something better and left you behind. You wondered often if they thought of you, if he thought of you, if he regretted leaving you here to clean up their mess. I would never leave him, you thought to yourself in those weeks, sweeping up glass or dealing with one of Cid’s moods. You couldn’t really blame them, you’d been at this bar long before the Batch showed up, and evidently you’d be here long after.

It’s why you’re surprised by a ping on your personal comm, tucked dutifully in the pocket of your apron, while you’re serving a drink to a tired looking Togruta. The bar isn’t packed, it never is, and you pat the pocket of your apron before looking at Cid, “I’m going to smoke, I’ll be back.”

The Trandoshan waved you off immediately, knowing full well about your recent cigarra habit, something you had attributed to the stress of the last few weeks. You slipped out the back entrance, standing in the dimly lit back alley behind the bar, leaning closer to your comm and also fumbling with the carton of cigarras, searching equally hard for your lighter. The familiar sound of the light coaxed your caller out of his silence, breaking the quiet with a long sigh.

“I thought I had adequately warned you about the dangers and symptoms of smoking.” Tech murmurs through the line, and if you squint in your mind you can practically see the disappointment on his face.

“I thought I told you not to go too far.”

“Ah. Yes. To be fair, I had assumed we were speaking in metaphor.”

You flick the ash off the end before bringing it back to your mouth to breathe. “I waited for you, you know.”

“You didn’t have to-”

“No, I know I didn’t. I wanted to. I wanted to believe you wouldn’t leave me without saying goodbye.”

“At the time I didn’t know it was goodbye, otherwise I would’ve left so few things unsaid.” There’s a clatter in the background of his message that makes your heart jump. The sound of things being loaded onto a ship, a ramp being raised. Hunter’s voice yelling, mild panic.

“You’re going somewhere?”

He takes a beat to answer, you can hear Wrecker get Omega settled and the sound of movement. He’s walking, you gather, from the way the sound rustles through the comm. Suddenly it’s clearer, and you only hear his voice and the distant sound of waves crashing. “I am.”

“So that's why you called? To not leave things unsaid?”

“I think, if I have deciphered you correctly, you would like it here. You’d fit in, I think”

“So you think you know me now?”

“I think you and I both know that I do. Just as well as you know me.” There’s that beat again, though this one rings of uncertainty. “Unless I misinterpreted something.”

“You haven’t” your words rush out in a whisper, cigarra nearly finished. “Misinterpreted I mean. You never have.”

“I- I have some things, I want you to know-” Then it's Wrecker, you can tell by the wait of the step over the comm, and he’s calling for Tech and the engines of the Marauder are firing. “We were going to come back for you. I was going to come back for you. That has always been my plan.”

“Tech, why does this sound like goodbye?”

“I was always going to come back for you.”

The line ends with a definitive click, and a moment later the last ash is on the sidewalk and your break is over. You tuck the com and the pack back into your apron, swipe at a few stray tears you hadn’t realized had slipped down your cheek, then head back into the bar, the only remnant of your confession the butt of a cigarra melting in a puddle out back.

* * *

“They’re coming back.” Cid practically spits as she walks by you while you clean glasses. “They walk out on me and now this? They just want to come back? I don’t think so.”

There’s a pit in your stomach now, a feeling of guilt and panic. Cid knows you were close with the team, but does she know how close? Are they actually coming back, and putting themselves in danger over you? “Did they say why?”

“No. It was bandana who called. Sounded down. Someone’s gotta be hurt, no reason they’d be coming back otherwise.”

The pit grows, and you instinctively feel for where your comm is. You hadn’t missed a call, you’re sure of it. Your mind spins with the possibilities. Why was Tech not the one to call? You set the glass down as carefully as you can manage and turn to face Cid. “What are you going to do?”

She looks at the ground before rubbing the back of her neck. “Look, kid, we’ve been in a tight spot these past few months with them being here. You know this, I know this.” She moves to grab your hand, “You don’t do all that well with the empire, I know. Maybe just, go home now. Before it gets worse here, ok?”

Your eyes widen with the implication of her words and you nod before turning to walk out the door, grabbing your bag from the shelf by the bar and careful to be out of the door frame before making a sprint towards the docking bay, hoping to get to them before they land. You’re calling Tech and you’re met with nothing but static, at least reassuring you that that is why he hasn’t called to alert you. “Tech, Tech if you can hear me, it’s a trap, don’t come to Cid’s, I’m going to go to the Marauder. I’m going to see you soon, ok?”

Wrecker is the first to disembark, and he nearly runs you over at the speed he walks off the ship. “Wreck, hey, it's me, you can’t go to Cid’s.” You sputter out as fast as possible before he looks down at you, eyes wide and crazed.

Hunter hears you and bolts out, walking towards you as Wrecker backs away slowly, shaking his head. “I can’t. Hunter I can’t you have to tell her.”

You look at the tattooed clone blinking wildly, “You, you’re not listening to me. You can’t go to Cid’s something is wrong.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Clearly we need to talk Hunter because I still haven’t forgiven you all for abandoning me here, but you have to listen to me, you can’t go-”

“It’s Tech.”

The words have their desired effect of turning everything in your mind into stone as you register Echo quietly shifting to do repairs on the outside of the Marauder and Omega’s tear streaked fast as she all but flies past you to catch up with Wrecker. “What do you mean?”

“He- he’s gone, he,” he runs a hand through his hair before bringing it to the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, “Kriffing Tech said he had it figured out, and he sacrificed himself for us, for the squad.” He looks back at Echo, whose shoulders are tight as he works on Tech’s ship. “He wanted to make sure you were cared for, I know you’ve got a ship and I could’ve sent coordinates but Wrecker insisted we land. And I thought I should tell you in person.” He puts an arm on your shoulder and guides you towards the bay he knows your ship is in, away from Echo and through the winding corridors of the docks. 

You’re moving, but you really aren’t. You’re numb to it all, the situation, the words. The reality of this hasn’t even begun to set in yet. Hunter knows, he always knows, and remains quiet until you get to your ship, a small but fast freighter from your days as a runner off of Corellia. “Why did you let him?”

“He made his choice, and we have to use it to secure our future.”

“Did you… did you find him? Can I say goodbye?”

Hunter runs a hand through his hair, “we didn’t exactly have time to go back for him.”

“So you left him?” You don’t hide the anger, the bitterness in your voice that rises like bile as you look to glare at your friend. “He could be alive.”

“He fell hundreds of feet and was followed by a railcar. I figured I would spare you the image because I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep now having seen it.” He sighs as you tense and your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”

You nod, tears now actively spilling over as you blink and shake your head. “You have to tell me what system you were on.”

“I am not letting you do something stupid, do not make me disrespect his wish like that.”

“Hunter, I have to try.”

“There is nothing you can do.”

“Do not look at me and tell me there is nothing I can do until I am lying dead at your feet,” you nearly spit at him, tears now burning down your cheeks as he groans, “he promised me he would always come back for me, I am not going to deny him the same thing.”

He looks back at Echo working on the ship and chews on his lip, debating in his mind how many deaths he wants on his hands. “If I give you these coordinates, you need to promise to not engage with any of the imperials.”

“Unless they shoot me first.”

“Unless they shoot you first. You need to fly low, and make sure your cloaking is on at all times.” He takes the datapad out of your bag and punches in three sets of numbers. “The first is the system coordinates, the second is the crash site. You cannot stay there long, most of the imperials have probably fled after the attack-”

“Attack?”

“I’ll explain later,” he huffs. “The third is the rendezvous point. Whatever the outcome, meet us there, if you want. He’s right, we shouldn’t have left you. You’re a part of this squad.” He grabs your shoulder and gives it a squeeze before walking towards the direction of Echo. “I get why he loves you, you’re both so stubborn.”

You leave in a hurry, running onto your ship with just your bag and punching in the coordinates. You leave in such a hurry, in fact, that you don’t think until it’s too late that you’ve neglected to remind Hunter of the reason you ran to them in the first place.

* * *

It’s this supposed love that has you speaking into your comm while you travel through hyperspace. You’re greeted by nothing other than static, but you talk. You tell him stories, you tell him about your day. You talk about the regulars at Cid’s, about the first time you smoked. You tell him about your parents, about your home planet, how you got to Corellia. “I want you to know everything about me the way that you know everything about everything. And I think I was afraid to tell you everything because not everything is good. But I think that’s ok. And I promise, when I find you, I’ll give you everything, all of me. The good and the bad,” you sniff, “even if I smell like fumes and my lungs give out because I have a bad habit” you laugh into the comm. “I have more to say, but I think I’d rather tell you when I get there.”

Eriadu is bitterly cold and dotted with peaks of mountains stretching up and above the cloud line. Getting past the security team isn’t difficult, you can tell they’re scrambling to recover from the attack and both expecting support and medic ships, so it doesn’t take much to convince them that you’re a dispatched supplies shuttle. You fly low enough to stay out of their radar, and scour the mountain tops and trees for signs of the wreckage as you get closer to the coordinates Hunter provided. There’s a spot between the trees for you to tuck your ship, and you grab the warmest jacket you have onboard, your blaster, and your vibroblade before setting out on foot.

The air feels still, but when you pause you can hear the sounds of troopers in the distance and shuttles overheard. Nothing entirely threatening, but a bitter reminder of why you’re here in the first place. You’ve taken to talking to Tech again, hoping to hear the buzz of your voice back as you walk through this forest in the vague destination of his demise. “I’ve stopped crying,” you murmur into your comm, twigs crunching between your boots, grateful to past you for opting out of the heeled shoes you normally wear on a busy night at the bar. “I just have decided to believe that you’re here, and I’m going to find you. And I figured you’d say something about the waste of water and the threat of dehydration.” You push past the brush and step over some rocks as you begin to hit a more rocky terrain. “It’s really cold here, you know. I don’t really like the cold. Or rocks. You’re lucky I enjoy your company-”

“Freeze!” The sound of a modulated voice stops you in your tracks, and you turn slowly with your hands in the air, facing a singular trooper with his blaster aimed at your torso. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” He uses his blaster to gesture to the comm in your hand, “Who are you talking to?”

“I’m sorry, I’m lost, our ship wrecked and I’ve been wandering these woods since yesterday, I’m trying to find my husband.” You shake your hand, trying to indicate the comm. The body language of the trooper shifts, you can tell he’s trying to decide if he’s going to believe you, so you bring the tears you’ve been fighting back up. “Please, please I need help, we have a daughter, she’s off-world with her uncle. We need to get home to her, please I can’t find my husband.” 

He shifts again, and moves to lower his blaster and walks towards you, “Okay, ma’am, I don’t know how you crashed here, but this is imperial property, and it’s highly classified, I’ll need to take you in for questioning.” He steps close to you now, too close, and he underestimates you. 

You sigh in mock appreciation while you pull the vibroblade off your hip, pushing it into the exposed portion between the chestplate and pauldron of his shoulder. He yelps and drops the blaster, and you pull your own out from the holster, holding it up to his head. “I’m very appreciative for your help. Now, let’s not make any sudden movements, shall we?” The trooper musters a pained nod as you back away, picking up the dropped blaster and tucking it on your belt. “I need info on a crash site, and I need you to tell me where it is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re the one that crashed here.”

You’re being cruel now and you hate it, but your feelings for Tech outweigh any feeling of pity you have for this trooper as you push the blade further into his arm. This makes you feel gross, there’s a sick feeling in your stomach as you revert back to your old way of being, before the bar, before the squad. “I think you do know, and I can promise you, keeping me from my family is going to hurt you more than the empire can.”

“There’s a site, half a klick away, railcar crash.”

You push the blade in one final time and through gritted teeth ask him, “What. Direction.”

The trooper answers with the direction, and you smile before taking the back of your blaster and tapping him on the side of the head. After a pulse check to be sure you haven’t killed the now slumped man you soldier on, emboldened by the confirmation of the site, eager to get to Tech as soon as possible.

The crash site is genuinely nauseating. The remains of the railcar are smashed and split at the base of the mountain, laying against a tall cedar tree. There’s wires coming out in all directions sending blue sparks out into the orange sky, and the air has the taste of oil and metal, whether it's from the bent and ugly pieces on the ground or the blood that lingers you aren’t sure. The ground around the site is pushed up and bulging from the impact, and there’s small crates from rocks being dislodged and shot as the car hit the ground. It’s ugly, the crash has left no survivors from the car that went down, and you’re not sure you have the gut to wander in further. You lean against a tree nearby and notice the black tether cord jutting out of the bottom of the car. Your heart sinks and you think you’d pass out if you hadn’t been leaning against something sturdy. “Oh, oh Tech.” You whisper, slinking to the ground and letting yourself cry, really cry, for the first time today. You bring your knees up to your chest and drop your head down, tears stinging your cheeks as the cold burns them into your skin. You have to start moving, you aren’t really dressed for this, and as the sky turns magenta you know it isn’t long before it turns to night, not to mention that you know there are troopers nearby. 

You lift your head up, deciding you’re going to go walk back in a moment, and you rest the base of your head back on the tree and your eyes drift shut. “Hey Tech, it’s me again.” You whisper into the comm, still crying as you go on, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I failed you. I just had to try. I have so much I want to say to you, there’s so much-” your ears suddenly focus on something not too far from you. It’s the echo of your voice, reverberating off the nearby trees that has your heart pounding. “Hello? Hello!” you call, hearing the sound of your voice grow louder when suddenly, under the base of a tree, you hear it. It’s faint, but strong, and it’s your name being carried over the wind and down to you, spoken as soft as a prayer. When you look up you can see him, tangled in a mess of grapple line and tarp, armor dented and cracked, goggles missing. It’s your Tech, leaning against the trunk of this tree in a mess of his own creation, battered and bloody but breathing. “Tech!” You climb up to him as best you can, you aren’t an excellent climber by any means but the branches are sturdy and well placed, and suddenly you’ve reached him and he’s real. Your hands are everywhere, gentle and prodding, untangling him from the grapple line and running soothing strokes along the side of his face as he looks at you like you’ve got ten heads. He’s cold, he looks like he’s in pain, and you can tell by the grimace on his face when you brush his torso he’s got cracked ribs.

“Given my blood loss and my pain, this logically must be a hallucination.”

“No no no,” you’re soothing yourself now too, trying not to be hysterical as you untangle him and think of ways to get him down from the tree. “No, Tech I’m here, I’m here.”

“I, I don’t understand.”

“Tech,” you pause, placing a hand on his chest and looking into his eyes. He really is a mess, bloody and tired and his hair is flying in every which way. You’re laughing now, out of hysteria, out of irony, as you finally discard the tarp and shuffle the grapple line away from his body. “Do you remember how we met?”

“Of course,” he strains at the movement of you pulling him off of the trunk, “You were in the process of being mugged if I remember correctly?”

“I was negotiating the return of my wallet”

“And we found you on our walk through Ord Mantell. And then you took us to Cid’s.”

“Do you remember how I looked?”

He looks at you know confused, before slowly reaching up to feel his hair, the dried blood and the cuts still dripping, and despite it all, he cracks a smile. “Don’t tell me I look worse than that.”

You bite your cheek at the joke, happy he’s alive enough to even be making a joke, “Despite it all, I think you’ll live.”

Getting Tech down from the tree is awkward and clunky. He’s hurt, bad, and you’re worried with the movement he’s going to hurt himself beyond repair. You’ve got a solid medkit on your ship, and you just have to get him there. He’s fashioned himself a crutch out of a discarded branch and is using you to hold the majority of his weight, yet the walk still takes over double the time to get back to the ship. He regales you with the tale of his survival, though you admit that around the point he begins discussing “inertia” and the forces of gravity and the quick thinking of his pack, you’re more focused on him than what he’s saying. You get him back onto your ship quietly, careful to avoid the few troopers you see on the ground in order to avoid a firefight. Your ship is small, but it was designed to carry you and cargo, so you lead him to the small bed chamber off the cockpit. You press the button to open the door and lead him to your bed, tucked in the corner near a storage cubby, a mirror, and a small viewport. “Stay here.” You command as you lay him down in the bed, heading towards the cockpit to punch in the rendezvous coordinates. 

“I don’t believe I have much of a choice.”

* * *

“Hold still.”

“I would much prefer just the patches, thank you.”

“And I would much prefer you alive, thanks.” You huff as you inject Tech with one of the loose bacta shots you have in your kit. He grimaces, and you continue working on removing the shattered pieces of his armor and tossing them haphazardly on the floor.

“Why do you even have that, are they not illegal?”

“Lots of good things are illegal,” you mumble out as you rip gauze to lay over the bacta patches you’ve started to apply to his wounds. “Besides, of the two of us, who’s the one wanted by the empire right now?” You go to life up his shirt and squeeze your eyes shut at the dried, bloody mess around his ribs. 

He grimaces in response. “Fair point.”

You work in silence, his voice becoming more tired the more he’s spoken to you, and you don’t want to push him at risk of hurting him more. You’re applying the patches higher and higher before you sigh, breaking the silence. “Tech, I’m going to need to cut this undershirt off. I need to access your chest, and I don’t want you moving your arms more than you have to. He nods as you work on the rest of his body, whispering to both yourself and him, “Oh Tech.” 

He won’t meet your eyes, but in the darkened room he looks at the ceiling, “When you first arrived, I thought I was dead.”

“You have that little faith in my rescuing abilities.”

“I assumed you were an angel.” There’s a silence that fills the room, and you can practically feel the tension as it rolls off of him.

“I knew you were alive, I did.”

“Oh? Explain your logic.”

“I just think I would know if something happened to you.” You say, the end of the sentence trailing off into quiet as you continue to work, stepping back to begin working on his chest.

“I assume my clothing options are limited then,” his eyes land on the pile of clothes in the supply cubby behind you, thrown haphazardly as you searched for any jacket.

“I’ve got something for you, actually,” you murmur as you cut the shirt off, peeling the scraps of fabric off his body and exposing his torso, tanned and marred, you suck in a breath as you see the reality of it. 

He notices and grabs your hand. “If it soothes you, I did hit a very sturdy tree at a very swift impact, but clone armor is resilient. If I had done a proper examination, I would guess I’ve only cracked four ribs on my right side, where I made the most direct impact with the tree.”

“Oh good,” you snort, “only four.”

“I am… very fortunate I have a medic who is capable of helping me.” He looks at you earnestly, like he’s trying to decide what to say, and in reality, so are you. Hunter’s words are still ringing around in your skull, bouncing off your brain and worming themselves comfortably around your heart.

“Oh yeah, full service, you should see the trooper I took out.”

“I’m sorry?” He starts, and you bring a hand to his lips, shushing him quietly as you ease him back down to your bed. You stand up and walk towards the cubby, grabbing a similar black shirt to the one laying in scraps at your feet.

“Will this work?”

He squints at it, as if trying to place why it looks so familiar, when it clicks. “Is that… the undershirt I leant you when you stayed with Omega on our run to Tatooine?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have it here?”

You don’t know what to say, and the way he’s looking at you, brown eyes boring into your soul with equal parts skepticism and hope, you decide the truth is best. “Because, sometimes, when you were gone, it was nice to sleep in. And sometimes I took myself flying because I didn’t like being in Ord Mantell alone, and so I would pack a change of clothes.”

“But you were never alone on Ord Mantell.”

You fold the shirt and place it on the edge of your bed, the confession you were so emboldened by suddenly feeling so small. As you make to walk towards the cockpit you shrug, “It felt like I was when you left.”

His grip is surprisingly strong (a perk of the illegal extra dose of bacta you assume) as he grabs your wrist, keeping you tethered to his side. He looks radiant like this somehow, patched up in your bed, hair mussed up on your pillow, shirt long discarded. He looks like your wildest dream. “Please. Stay. I have not been honest with you.” 

You sit down at the edge of the bed, hand landing on his shin. There’s enough room here that you could recline and lay with him, albeit squished, but not much. Instead, you back up and scoot so your back is flush to the wall of the ship and you’re sitting to his side, your body angled towards him.

“I, I haven’t really had a situation like that. One where I could not think of a suitable solution that had a high probability of success and survival. When I decided to remove myself from the equation so that the rest of the squad could survive, I found myself thinking of one thing.”

“Oh?” you question, your hand pausing in its small rotation of absentminded circles along his leg.

“I could not stop thinking about how much regret I had in not confessing my emotions to you, not allowing you the ability to decipher what you felt about them.”

It’s like the air is knocked out of you then, as he pushes himself up on his forearms to be closer to you and you shift towards him, backing off the wall and sitting closer to his hips now. “Tech I-”

“Please,” he starts, “I am not very good at understanding emotion. I have tried and tried and I haven’t ever felt adequate in it. I had assumed for many months now that you were simply being kind to me, that you felt nothing, and perhaps that is still right, but after Safa Toma, I began to think that you did feel something, something aside from friendship.”

Tears threaten to spill over your eyes as you beam at him, laughing quietly to yourself as you nod, both a quiet reassurance and indicator for him to go on. 

“I heard your messages, all of them. I wish to know you, all of you, as much as you chose to let me. If you would have me that is. It is very common for people to say things they don’t mean when under duress, and I would not hold it against you-”

You cut him off the only way your brain will let you as you lean closer to him, pulling his face up to yours and meeting him for a kiss. It’s everything you need from him, from this, soft and gentle and reassuring and comforting. He sighs against you for just a moment, as if reality is overwhelming him, and pulls you in deeper, shifting to the other side of your bed and allowing you to recline next to him on his left. He tastes metallic and medicinal but past all of the trauma and the medicine there’s still something (caf? chocolate?) that tastes like him, sweet and warm and him. He’s your Tech, he’s always been your Tech, and as you pull away you smile at him, running a finger along his cheek as he plants his hands firmly on the small of your back. 

“You promised me you’d always come back for me, and I want to promise you the same.” He pulls you in closer at that, placing your head on his chest. “And for the record, I fell for you much earlier than Safa Toma, but seeing you win that race really helped.”

He chuckles a bit at that, keeping you tucked in under his arm and with your head on his heart, he starts to slowly drift to sleep. You focus on that, the drum of his heart, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and start to dream too, knowing that no dream can match reality. You will wake up in a world where Tech is still alive and he is still yours, and you already can’t wait to get there.

#tech bad batch #tbb tech #tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech the bad batch #the bad batch #sw the bad batch #sw tbb

[niki-phoria]

AHCKKK WAIT I JUST FOUND OUT YOU DO SONG FICS can you do a sunghoon x male reader based on gidle's song "Change"? 😭

pairing: sunghoon x male!reader (no pronouns used; implied masc reader) genre: fluff/hurt comfort word count: 789

includes: mentions of reader being a trainee, reader cries, the middle part is kinda weird lol, written with male reader in mind

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i didn't want this to be too angsty but i hope you like it :))

likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are always appreciated <33

sunghoon blinks awake far too early in the morning on his rare day off. he squints at the light streaming in from your windows. you must’ve forgotten to close them last night in your lethargic stumble back to bed. he softly sighs, grabbing his phone off of your nightstand. he clicks the device on, watching it spring to life - 08:24.

it clatters against the plywood as he drops it once again before rolling onto his back. your sleeping body lays curled up beside him. the blanket sunghoon had gracefully draped over your body has been pushed down to lay around the middle of your waist. he smiles softly to himself at the sight. in the morning silence, he allows his mind to drift. 

life has ups and downs, it’s alright / (nothing lasts forever)

sunghoon had still been a trainee the first time he saw you. you were wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. sweat soaked through the fabric and dripped from your fringe though you only continued to push yourself harder. you had just barely glanced at him through the mirror reflection - seemingly unbothered by the new presence in the otherwise empty practice room. 

since that first day, he had found himself entranced by you. awkward stares became small talk; became lingering touches; became late night talks that kept you both awake far too late. 

you had confessed during one of those late night conversations. you and sunghoon laid side-by-side on the dirty tile floor in an empty practice room. your shoulders occasionally brushed against each other as you stared up at the ceiling. the other trainees had left long beforehand, leaving you in a comfortable silence that lingered in the darkness.

a long sigh had escaped from your lips. sunghoon shifted slightly to face you; eyebrows furrowed in concern. “hey,” he whispered. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing,” you mumbled. you squeezed your eyes shut as if to escape from your thoughts. “it’s just… i always assumed that i would make it to debut and everything would feel okay, but… it doesn’t.” you paused. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. 

“y/n,” sunghoon whispered. he reached over, brushing a hand against your cheek before pulling you into a hug. you wrapped your arms tightly around him, finally falling apart for the first time in months. he rubbed a hand against your back in an attempt to soothe you. “it’s okay,” he whispered. “i’m here. it’s okay.”

you pulled away after a few minutes. “thank you,” you had whispered through sniffles. your hands swiftly wiped away the remaining stray tears staining against your cheeks as you softly smiled at sunghoon as best as you could. 

“of course,” he nodded. his arms remained gingerly wrapped around your waist, keeping you closely pressed against his chest. he pressed a fleeting kiss against your forehead. “i’ll always be here if you need me.”

one day i will fall, can’t deny / (but i know you won’t leave)

“morning hoon,” you sleepily mumble. he startles slightly at the sound of your voice. you blink the tiredness out of your eyes as you roll over onto your side to face him. 

sunghoon smiles at you. he reaches a hand up to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face. your eyes flutter shut once again as you lean into the warmth of his touch. he rests his hand against your cheek; stroking his thumb against your skin. 

a comfortable silence falls across the room save for the occasional noise of cars driving by your apartment building. you had always thought it was overly cliché - sunlight streaming in through the windows; birds chirping from nearby trees; waking up to an overwhelming feeling of warmth and love - all because of a person. a lover.

“hoon?” your quiet whisper breaks his swarming storm of thoughts. this time it’s you who brushes your hand against his cheek; though your touch is more reassuring than his was. you softly smile at him. “what’s on your mind?”

he blinks once before waving off your concerns with a simple shake of his head. “nothing,” he whispers. “i’m just… so lucky to have you.”

you fall back against the sheets as you laugh. sunghoon chuckles as you playfully swat at his arm. “you can’t flirt with me this early in the morning!” you whine. “it’s not fair.”

he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “okay, okay, i’m sorry,” he snickers. “i love you y/n.”

you lean upwards to press a kiss against his jawline - the closest place you can reach. a soft smile lingers on sunghoon’s lips when you pull away. “i love you too, hoon,” you mumble.

#sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x male reader #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha x male reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon imagine #sunghoon one shot #sunghoon scenario #sunghoon drabble #enha fanfic #enha x you #enha x y/n #enha imagine #enha one shot #enha scenario #enha drabble #enha sunghoon #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen x male reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagine #enhypen one shot

[sherifftillman]

come along, one and all, to the hawkins fair! a special event held in honor of two thousand of you fine people being here. why not have a look around? we’ve got two wonderful parks for you to peruse, writer’s world and gifset grounds, so take your time, pick an attraction or two and be sure to check out the fireworks show at the end!

●・○・●・○・●

-ˏˋ Writer’s World ˊˎ-

🪞 hall of mirrors: you’re here, you’re there, you’re everywhere! which is the real you? who are these doppelgangers? – send me a description of yourself and i’ll write you a short blurb about what i think your role would be within the stranger things timeline! (+ add a 💕 if you also want to be shipped with someone)

💜 tunnel of love: they can’t stay still. your breath is shallow. awkward laughter as you catch each other’s eye, crammed in a boat with a strangely ominously glowing void ahead of you. – send a character or ship (please specify if the ship is standalone or an x reader polycule! i’ll assume all ships are standalone unless stated otherwise) and i’ll write a romantic blurb. (+ add a 🔥if you want smut)

🎠 carousel: the music fills your ears, the cool metal pole pressing against your warm, flushed cheek as you see your best friend next to you, having the time of their life. – send a character or platonic ship (please specify if standalone or x reader) and i'll write a friendship blurb. *this is the only option where i will also accept members of the party as options, but not directly interactive with the reader UNLESS as a side character/sibling of reader. (e.g. i won't accept dustin x reader but i would include dustin (+ other kids) in a henderson!reader x older teen scenario, or dustin with other canon characters)

🎪 big top: sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! this one’s all about celebrating you, dear audience, so we’ll need volunteers! volunteer yourselves, your friends, your idols. everyone deserves a spotlight! – send a fic you’re proud of! send a fic you love! this totally isn’t a thinly-veiled attempt at me trying to farm fic recs since i’ve slipped so much! it could be a reader insert or a ship. i don't mind any ship (as long as it doesn't include b*lly or j*son), especially rarepairs!

🌀 a portal?!: uh-oh, looks like HNL’s been at it, again. this time, it seems as though they’ve opened a portal through the entire multiverse! people are appearing that look strangely like existing hawkins residents. – send another character that a stranger things actor plays and i’ll write a romantic or platonic blurb for them, too! (+ add a 🔥if you want smut)

●・○・●・○・●

-ˏˋ Gifset Grounds ˊˎ-

🤹 the juggler: that’s right, i’m the juggler, baby! i can juggle almost anything you want, anything at all! i might even toss one your way, get ready for it! – make me choose between any number of things! people, ships, scenes, locations, seasons, etc.

🎈 balloon stall: get your balloons here! we got all the colours here, you want one? two? all?! you got it, kid. – send a character/ship and as many colours as you want to be featured.

🐤 hook a duck: feeling lucky, duck? why not take a chance on one of these rubbery fellas? anything could be under it, anything at all. you won't know unless you try! – send this and i'll have a randomiser decide who i make a gifset for.

🎡 ferris wheel: far above the shrieks of an excitable crowd, the blaring lights, the aromatic mix of sickly sweets, sweat and smoke; a moment of peace. just you, the world beneath you, and a simple song to guide you. – name a character and either choose a song/artist yourself or leave that up to me, and i'll make a lyric gifset for them!

👻 ghost train: what is dead may never die. what lurks within the dark depths of the unknown? truly anything can happen, if you dare to take the leap and open yourself to possibility. – give me an au (literally anything non-canon-compliant) and i'll try and make a gifset about it!

●・○・●・○・●

🎆 fireworks! 🎆

i just wanted to take a moment to thank every one of you. it's been insane how i can once again fall in love with writing, be this close to finishing a majorly hefty writing project, and learn a new skillset that i actually enjoy right from the get-go. being a part of fandom again has me getting out of the house again, going to conventions again, making new friends wherever i go, making plans to go to places i've never been before with those people. i thought that part of my life was behind me. i've never been more proud to be wrong.

all of you have encouraged me in ways i couldn't begin to explain, but the mutuals i'm tagging inspire me with their support and creativity every dang day. i'm so lucky to have these people in my life in any capacity, whether we talk every day or we've never spoken (though if the latter's the case, i'd love to fix that!) 💜

@denim-mixtapes @fanatictypist @keerysquinn @userquinn @hellfirehoe @reysorigins @eddieandbird @heroeddiemunson @roykentt @iero @hellfireclubs @corroded-hellfire @munson-blurbs @lunatictardis @loveshotzz @quinnsbower @newlips @wroteclassicaly @usedtobecooler @corrodedbisexual @dindjarins @stargyles @mulderfcx @enidsnclr @elizabethgillies @sebuckyverse @wordscomehither @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @hearsegrrl @mcbeanzontoast @pitifulbaby

#*mygifs #*2kcelebration

[powderblueblood]

PARENTHOOD VERSE MY BELOVED .. the sole idea of Lacey having to show up to a parent teacher conference and having to be convinced that no actually cutting class to go smoke is kind of a bad thing and her realizing that she does not know how to talk to a teen anymore (she never did)

“i’m doing this because i love you.”

“and i love you for doing this!”

“no, i need to say it out loud so it’s believable, otherwise i’ll drive my car into the ditch on the way to that godforsaken school.”

“you won’t do that, lace.”

“give me one good reason.”

“three—because you love me, because you want an open casket funeral, and because… you might be a little fond of that kid. i think.”

this whole thing is fucked.

chair’s too small, first of all—they definitely made the chairs smaller since lacy went here which she can only assume is some kind of tactic of psychological warfare. which leads her to think, okay…

“if i may, can you just level with me, cunningham?”

christine cunningham. ninth grade biology and health teacher. decidedly not the mother of lacy’s kind of-ish stepson, but damn well could’ve been. which freaks her out a little bit.

“he’s doing okay, isn’t he?”

chrissy taps her pen against the report card.

“well… he’s doing more than okay, lacy, he’s doing pretty… great, actually, especially for a new transfer—“

crazy how those munson genes can mutate.

“uh huh. and he did the reading for that class?”

“yeah, as far as i—“

“so what’s the problem?” lacy shrugs.

a look of mild incredulity from chrissy, like, do you seriously not get this.

“no, i’m serious,” lacy presses, “what’s the problem.”

“the problem,” chrissy scoffs, “is he cut the period to go sell loosies to freshmen by the athletic track.”

lacy can’t help but caw a little laugh. and the genes are strong! wait til this gets back to the fathership… that entrepreneurial spirit just won’t be beat out of these boys, will it?

“chrissy, c’mon, who among us hasn’t—“

“that doesn’t really matter, lacy. aren’t we all trying to do a better job than our parents did?”

okay, that’s a little on the nose. lacy’s got to concede, because she can’t compete with chrissy’s big ageless moony eyes and earnest nature. makes her want to drop kick a garden gnome. so she straightens her collar, promises to talk to the kid and gives her a little if that’s everything and good to see you, chris then she’s dismissed.

kid’s waiting in the hallway, legs splayed out from his chair. he’s so goddamned tall and wiry that he takes up half the fucking corridor. those munson magic brown irises swivel up to her, but the charm’s killed by the sneer on his face.

“so?”

“you’re over. they’re making us homeschool you.”

“i’d like to see you give that a crack. what’s first, replacement parent theory 101?”

“aren’t you hardboiled! c’mon. let’s go.”

lacy notices his footsteps get a little more anxious, work a little harder to catch up with her little clip as they cross the parking lot. there’s a friendly heaping of his grandfather in him that way.

“so what are you gonna tell dad?” he asks, nervous edge cracking at his voice as he folds his enormously long legs into the passenger seat of this joke of a hotrod she’s still driving. al’s. she’s trying to give it a good home.

lacy takes a long look at him, with his father’s eyes and nose and nerve and a mop of curly hair to seal the deal. he’s fretting a little, the shitstarter attitude he’d come from the west coast with wearing a little thin in their little pocket of east jesus nowhere.

“depends,” she says, “how much you make with those loosies?”

“i don’t know.” he shrugs, he knows. “fifteen bucks or something.”

“fifteen bu—?! what were you charging? a goddamn dollar a dart?!”

“something like that.”

“how did you not get beat up?”

“rich kids don’t know the difference. i just looked for the richest looking kids.”

lacy blinks. starts the car.

“you’re using that and whatever’s left in your wallet to buy dinner,” she sighs, a grin threatening her. “and i’ll tell e—your dad exactly what i was told.”

a nervous beat. she hears him clench his jaw.

“that franklin munson is a goddamned grade a student.”

“ugh. don’t suck up.”

“do i look like i’m trying to impress you, frankie?”

she is, a little.

#powder room talk #slowdancer #FRANKLIN MUNSON dorky ass name #god my parenthood verse my love my life #edlacy #l. doevski by powder #f. munson by powder #published by powder #lulal

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hi. Sorry this is a bit long, but I could really use the help.

I guess I should start with who I am. I’m a member of the Creature Community, as you probably could have already surmised, but I don’t exactly look the part. You see, my genus looks rather similar to humans. That is, upon death. Our “ghosts” are almost indistinguishable from living sapios, at least for the first few years.

Now, I’ve recently died. Contrary to what many expect, it honestly hasn’t affected me too much. Sure, it takes some getting used to, and I have gone to therapy to work through the event itself, but it’s no more rattling than a particularly violent metamorphosis.

I’m lucky enough to still have some friends from before my death. One such friend, let’s call her “Amy”, has been very kind to me. She’s helped me work through this transformation, and even set up a small altar for me in her house.

The other day, Amy invited me over to her parent’s house for dinner. I was quite excited, after all, Amy had been one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, so it would only make sense her parents would be just as kind, right?

Goodness, was I wrong. Ever since my death, I can’t exactly consume food in the usual way. I was under the impression that this was conveyed to Amy’s parents, but I was mistaken. Upon sitting down at the table, I was served the same as everyone else. I assumed there’d been some kind of misunderstanding, and attempted to explain that I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t on an altar or otherwise spiritually offered to me. Her mother seemed a bit irked, and said something along the lines of “there’s no need to be so picky.”

I tried to explain to them that I wasn’t being picky, but that I physically couldn’t eat it. It was around then I realized that Amy had never told them I wasn’t sapio, least of all that I was dead. Still, I did my best to try to explain it too them without it being seen as offensive. The food they had made did look and smell delicious, but that didn’t make it any more possible for me to eat.

That was when her father chipped in. He said, and I quote, “Well, you don’t look dead.”

I know that technically, to him, he’s right. To most humans who saw me, I did not look dead. But for some reason, what he said really upset me. I mean, what did he want me to look like, Slimer from Ghostbusters? A Haunted Mansion animatronic?!

I left pretty quickly after that, though I’ll admit I said some pretty harsh things before I went. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve already tried to apologize to Amy, but she won’t answer any of my texts or calls. I know that I was wrong for yelling at them, but I can’t help but feel that maybe they’re not all the way in the right either. How can I fix this without letting them hold onto those biases? Or should I just let it go?

I think you're being really rather hard on yourself here, reader. I don't see that this mess is yours to fix at all. First, you were put in a very awkward situation because of your friend's lack of forethought. Then you were apparently left to fend for yourself in that awkwardness, with no support from the friend in question.

You were subjected to casual sapiocentrism in a place where you might have expected to be treated more kindly. You say that, “for some reason”, you were hurt by Amy's father's comments – as if they weren't immediately, obviously insulting comments and dismissive of the variety of forms post-life vitality might take.

Finally, after being subjected to a mounting pile of microaggressions, you removed yourself from the situation. Perhaps this removal was a little less graceful than you might prefer, looking at it in retrospect. But given the givens, I think you did very well to be as polite as you were, for as long as you were.

You have even gone so far as to try to apologise for the unpleasantness of the situation – despite said unpleasantness being almost entirely the fault of other people's rudeness, ignorance, and inconsideration. But those attempts have fallen on ears that as not so much deaf as willingly plugged.

I don't think you need to worry about making amends with Amy's parents. You were their guest and they treated you poorly, with no indication that they have any interest in learning from the experience. Even if they did want to do better, you aren't their guinea pig. You have no responsibility to teach them the error of their ways, and the relationship isn't one you need to maintain.

Your friendship with Amy, however, does need some work. Amy has clearly demonstrated that she loves and cares about you. Her treatment of you following your revitalisation shows this. But sadly, love and care are not always enough to prevent harm.

I recommend offering to meet up in person to talk about the evening in question. You can certainly tell her that you want to make amends, but it's important you also make it clear that this is not a one-sided apology. Tell her you want to talk about some of the ways she could have supported you better as a person of the night in that situation, with a view to strengthening your friendship.

If she agrees to meet, remember to stay calm and be clear about the particular behaviours you want to address. This isn't about making Amy feel punished or blamed. It's about helping her to love you better. You have certain needs as a recently revived individual, and if she is going to invite you to an event, she has to make sure those needs will be met.

She also needs to understand that, while she may not see your post-death vitality as anything to write home about, that doesn't mean other people feel the same. It is unkind of her to put you into a situation where you will be expected to defend your identity or bite your tongue in the face of anti-liminal sentiments.

I sincerely hope Amy proves herself willing and able to listen to you and learn from this. Her previous behaviour suggests its certainly possible. But if she can't, please understand – this is not on you.

Sadly, some people are only interested in being kind so long as they can also be comfortable. You are better off keeping them at arm's length and keeping your more intimate feelings for those who can be trusted with them.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies