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#sometimes I forget most cats prefer being held normally
flutteringfable · 7 months
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various bakugou and kirishima headcanons because i love them a normal amount <3
bakugou
ohhh where to begin with this guy. hes so interesting hes got so much goin on
a really common headcanon i see shared around is that he uses hearing aids because of his quirk! i like that one a lot, because it’s also very funny to imagine him grumbling and taking them out when midoriya starts rambling
only 1-A has really picked up on this, but when he’s close with someone, his aggression turns more into passive-aggression and sarcasm. he’s really bad at expressing his feelings, but if he makes a joking snarky little comment at you, that means he likes you!!
bullies midoriya but will murder you if you try to do so. that’s HIS childhood friend, he’s the only one allowed to be mean to him. (this develops a little later in their years at UA; most of the initial bullying was actually just him being intentionally mean and he could not care less if someone else did the same. it also tones down more as time goes on, and turns into mostly snarky remarks and sarcasm.)
literally so bad at apologizing; someone help this man. he eventually makes some semblance of peace with midoriya (there’s still tension, but significantly less), but it takes AGES for him to actually say the words “i’m sorry.”
mellows? kind of? with age. he’s still short tempered and snappish, but he’s a lot more mature by the time he’s graduating. still gets a little too passionate in battle sometimes, but that’s just him.
doesn’t know how to react to physical affection. don’t hug him randomly if you aren’t close, or he might punch you. if you’re close friends or his significant other, though, with some warning he’ll hesitantly let you hug him. his first couple of hugs back are awkward and stiff, but he eventually gets the hang of it.
thinks 10pm is super late at night. doesn’t like staying up, even for parties or studying. gets really tired around 10:30.
cuddle! this! guy!!! he won’t admit it, but he loves being snuggled. prefers to cuddle in private to keep the others from teasing him. he likes having someone leaning on his shoulder or held against his chest. also partial to having someone on top of him like a weighted blanket.
will remind you about self care. “drink water, idiot; you’re gonna pass out otherwise.” “if you’re tired, just go to bed. you can worry about your work tomorrow. no use doing it if it’s gonna turn out bad because you’re half asleep.” stuff like that.
overall, he is truly the guy ever. i have so many thoughts about him he’s so!!!
kirishima
i think he would be really into baking. he sucks at cooking actual meals, but can make the most incredible cakes or brownies you’ve ever tasted.
1-A’s personal heater in the wintertime. bakugou would rather die than have the class huddled around him, but kiri is happy to accept the snuggles!
the type to help others but forget to take care of himself. tends to accidentally overwork himself and pass out on the common room couch.
very big on physical affection. loves hugs and cuddles so so much. give this guy a headpat and its OVER. he is MELTING. has really nice, snug hugs.
also not great at staying up late. he’s not someone that goes to bed super early like bakugou, but he tends to get sleepier the later at night it is.
LOOOVES aquariums. his favorite animals are the giant rays and whale sharks, but he likes all sea creatures! could stand in the tunnels all day and watch all the fish. will make friends with all the aquarium workers and talk about marine life with them.
headbutts as a gesture of affection! will gently bump his head against your shoulder or head like a cat if he’s content or happy.
collects plushies! his favorite is a giant dragon plush he won at an arcade.
really good at rigged games! claw machines you can’t really help, but games like darts and that one ladder climbing game are his jam. will win you all the best prizes.
i think he would be a roller coaster nerd. he likes learning about the mechanics and history of coasters, and also loves riding them.
likes carrying his friends around on his shoulders. what else do you do with all that strength, after all? :D
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rui-ayaki-lower5 · 1 year
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S.M Notes:
So Rui has developed a lot of spider-like habits but some do cross over with more humanoid habits heres a list of his habits and behaviors:
He bites if he feels threatened and decides that biting is necessary, evidently his bite is venomous, but i have a theory that wether it is or isn't is based on how threatened he feels.
Most of the time he doesn't go searching for humans, instead he prefers to wait for them to come to him and then attack if they are either causing a ruckus or if he's hungry, otherwise he will either tell them to go away or have a chat. Although since the mt.natagumo arc he has started assisting the nearby towns with their bandit problems.
If he needs to go somewhere in his territory that will probably involve a lot of jumping up to or down from high places on foot he will instead "balloon/kite" (the thing where spiders shoot a web into the air when there is a strong breeze and let the web carry them) there instead
He has a strong dislike of loud and/or sudden noises (ex.: fireworks, explosions, balloons popping, thunder, ect.) because his ears are very sensitive and his vision is not the best and he will have to restrain himself from running to find somewhere to hide, he still jumps slightly
He likes shiny things (yes there are actual spiders who like shiny things and use them to attract their prey) and occasionally collects them to place them near traps
He is a little snuggle bug and a clingy one at that who desperately wants all the hugs, cuddles and head-pats especially when he's scared
He likes bunnies, cats, bats and most of all spiders (but because spiders are not very cuddly he "logically" instead has bunny plushies)
He is very snarky and sarcastic around people who make him nervous or annoyed but he will not outright insult someone unless they REALLY piss him off
Thanks to certain older moons he knows how to swear and will if he wants to or feels that it is necessary
He has mixed feelings about snow and cold weather in general
He will consciously try to be scary and intimidating but he forgets he's 4'5 and about as scary/intimidating as a kitten.
Because he became a demon as a child he is still very childish; so he does still draw/doodle, mispronounce/misspell new words and inevitably try to sound them out, swing his legs when sitting somewhere high off the ground and occasionally play pretend when he thinks no one is around to see
He is an adorable little brat, and because he is aware that he is both adorable and a little brat he acts accordingly.
He still does want toys and other things that he can play with (even if he does get a little to rough with them sometimes) but the one set of toys he wants the most is the doll house with every member of the family
He is very much aware of the fact that he has adorably squishable cheeks however he only lets certain people squish his cheeks and they are very few in number. Though he does actually like having them squished and it will make him laugh
He trips a lot... like A LOT a lot
If he is able to he will just zone out while staring at the night sky
When he was human he really liked anything either chocolate or strawberry, and really disliked anything watermelon.
(May or may not have a secret crush on a certain specific 113 y.o white and green haired someone but is kind of a tsundere about it) definitely does not have a crush on anyone at all ever
Because he was an only child as a human he tends to get a bit confused about normal sibling behaviors but he is learning
When he was human he really liked pork-buns and after becoming a demon he would "occasionally" "ask for" some of his older sisters cocoons because they are similar (though he is trying to find a better alternative because according to him webbing is neither edible nor easy to get our of your fangs)
He just really likes being held and carried around, especially when he is able to hear the heartbeat of the one holding him and even more so when the one holding him traces the dots on his face. Its a good way to calm him down or even get him to fall asleep especially when you hum a lullaby
Because of how muzan "raised" him he is awkward with apologies and admitting he is in the wrong but he is learning and will try
He gets a bit skittish for a while after a close call but he does get better after a short while
(Even though he denies it to the full extent he does miss the deceased members of his family and is sad they are gone).not at all missing anyone (shuuuush) As much as he doesn't like to admit it he does feel bad about how he treated his adoptive family and is trying his hardest to be better.
Along with the cat-cradle string tricks he also sews, weaves, beads, crochets and knits if he gets bored
If he needs something to fiddle with and cannot use his webs for one reason or another he will instead twist his hair-curls in his fingers
He likes giving and receiving nicknames as a form of affection. He is also very ticklish especially on his hands, sides, tummy and feet.
Because of his sensitive hearing he often gets confused when people "act" like they can't hear him and start "shouting", without realizing that he is actually whispering or speaking at library volume and other people are speaking at a normal volume
One can tell when he is getting scared/startled or nervous when his hair starts standing on end and poofing up or in the case of being startled; puffs up suddenly. No it doesnt... Yes it does... ....Shush. He also squeaks when he gets startled suddenly. No i don't... again yes you do
While he understands swear words he does not always understand more adult terminology that he overhears from the adult moons and may be tempted to ask the moons that are closer to his age to explain.
He can get very jealous and a bit selfish when it comes to the attention of the people he cares about and who receives it. (Its even worse if its who he has a crush on)
Due to being one of Muzan's favorites, Rui is not above being a tattletale for the benefit of himself or someone he likes
(This is based on a theory that i have that I'm turning into a head-cannon) Because of how blood works and it's ties to a demons blood demon art; He is able to use the blood demon arts that he gives to his "relatives" after a certain amount of time.
He paints his nails/claws and he is not ashamed to admit it (mainly because it makes it easier to see the bases of his threads)
I may add to this list later on.
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Fed my neighbour’s cats yesterday while she was out of town. They’re absolute darlings, seeing them always reminds me how weird my cats are.
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husbandohunter · 3 years
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A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~
A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]
♤♡◇♧☆
Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.
Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti
(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.
=======================
[Diluc]
Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.
As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.
So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).
"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"
"Meow." He has alot to learn.
Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.
~xx~
[Kaeya]
If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.
Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.
There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).
Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.
~xx~
[Xiao]
If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.
Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.
As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3
"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."
You stay.
~xx~
[Albedo]
The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.
Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.
He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.
On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.
~xx~
[Zhongli]
Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).
How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.
"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."
Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.
~xx~
[Childe]
Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.
He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.
Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.
Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.
You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.
~xx~
[Venti]
Achoo!
You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.
Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.
"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"
No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.
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sekceesimps · 3 years
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HxH Domestic Fluff Headcannons
these are just some cute and fluffy (kinda spicy?) head cannons for Feitan, Hisoka, and Chrollo with a fem!reader
a/n   please send in requests and feedback. I love doing head cannons and really want to improve my writing for y’all,
sincerely Coffee
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Chrollo Lucilfer
-  Chrollo would have never thought that he’d settle down with someone. In truth, he’s still surprised that he did. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, he would kill for you, but he’s surprised that you managed to stick with him for this long
-  This sexy man loves you so much
- he's never really felt this strongly about anyone in his whole life. He’d usually just fuck someone to get what he needs and then get the hell out of there. Honestly, he didn’t think he needed anyone being the busy leader that he is
- With you he feels so many more unfamiliar and strong emotions. He knew a few months into being in a relationship that he wanted to marry you, he was very sure about you being the one. 
- However, this level of love only comes due to how much trust he has in you. At the beginning of your relationship it was dishonest for him. He had a mask, but that didn’t protect him from the eventual feelings he developed. It took him a bit of time to drop his guard, but once that happens he’s all yours. 
- He doesn’t admit it, but he loves it when you call him your husband. Having a ring on your finger makes him feel more secure that you truly belong to him too. that possessive mf 
- you’d have the be very patient and accepting of him and his line of work. He still goes about his spider business, even after marriage, although he tries to make it less obvious now, for your own peace of mind. 
- He enjoys coming home to you cooking a beautiful meal and waiting for him on the couch. No one in his life has ever put as much thought and effort into things for him as you do. 
- Will still spoil you. Your gaze lingering on that bracelet in the store too long? it’s already wrapped up and on the bed for you. 
- If he thinks he pissed you off even a little bit, he’ll try to give you something as an apology. You don’t really care, preferring to just be with him. 
- morning kisses! You’ll often find yourself waking up to him kissing you on your forehead, neck, and cheeks. He loves seeing you blush and act shy when he does this 
- these morning kisses will have a 50/50 chance of leading to more. it’s usually lazy and sensual, but it’s what both of you need before heading off to the shower together and then taking care of the day’s events. 
- He loves cuddling so much, it’s insane. He might act like he’d be the big spoon, but that’s just not happening. You’ll be watching a movie together at night and he’ll be making himself comfortable with his back against your chest. In truth, Chrollo loves being held by you 
- Don’t get me wrong, he’s still going to be topping you like 80% of the time, but he really loves just taking in your warmth and the comfort you give him. Coming from Meteor City, he’s never felt as safe as when you’re holding him. 
- Likes burying his face into your hair and just inhaling your scent. It’s so intoxicating for him. 
- Sometimes when you two are sitting in bed he’ll read to you or let you read over his shoulder. You two would probably be reading the same literature and talking about it as a nice calm activity together.  
- He’s never really considered a family before, but after marriage he’d go into a slight baby fever. he 100% has a breeding kink 
- He saw you holding a family member’s young child once and something in him definitely changed. You don’t mind though. One kid would definitely not be enough for him. 
- Overall, a married Chrollo continues to pamper you and will always see you as his whole world. The amount of trust and love he has for you will only grow through the years. 
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Hisoka Morow
- Honestly, Hisoka isn’t settling down with anyone seriously anytime soon, but for the right person he would perhaps put in some effort in his own way
- that being said, if he does ever get into a serious relationship he’d be like a house cat. 
- you’ll be doing chores around the house and he’d come behind you for attention until you stop doing the dishes and cuddle with him
- With Hisoka, he’s either always giving you affection or will be ignoring you. There is truly no in between
- don’t go seeking attention and kisses. If you initiate he’ll be mildly annoyed and won’t indulge you. He is a massive tease and will start initiating affection at the worst times
- you’re busy with work? Too bad. He’s horny and wants to take you on the desk right now. trying to fold the clothes from the dryer? you better do it with his arms wrapped around your waist and him breathing down your neck. 
- His method of affection will be neck kisses and hands wrapped around your waist. He’s not too into holding hands or cuddling. 
- He has a weird obsession with calling you sickly sweet pet names until you get annoyed. he definitely won’t stop even if you get pissed off by it
- dates with him are also truly something else. He’s pretty clueless about what normal couples do. Some dates can be sweet, with him taking you to an expensive dinner or a romantic walk around town. Other times they be weird, with him taking you to a random abandoned lot and making out with you for an hour. 
- Hisoka is incredibly possessive in public. He’ll be clutching onto you if anyone starts looking and flirting with you. you are HIS and it pisses him off that someone doesn’t realize this. 
- which is exactly why he likes the idea of marrying you. He can make it official that you belong to him. PDA will increase so much after you get married.
- He also leaves way more hickies on your neck. He loves to make sure people know that you are his. 
- When you two are getting ready in the mornings he’ll teach you how to apply makeup. Always gets the best stuff for you, he steals it sometimes, but he pretends he doesn’t know. Seriously though, he’s great with hair styling and tries to teach you all his tricks.  
- This sexy clown will be a shitty gift giver. He forgets some important dates, but makes up for it with hastily bought presents. also eats you out as an apology
- He’s pretty stubborn, so when you get into real arguments don’t expect him to beg for you back. He’s going to be pouty and ignore you. All you have to do though is ignore him back and eventually he gets frustrated enough to pin you against something and fuck you right there. 
- He refuses to have kids. That’s just not his style. He’d rather you and him had an easy to maintain pet that doesn’t require much work
- If you do end up getting pregnant, he’ll be displeased and most likely won’t alter any of his actions. He warms up to the idea later on, but initially it’s pretty rough getting him on board the idea of a family 
- Hisoka is a strange lover to be married to, but he does love and care for you in his own ways. 
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Feitan Portor
- Don’t expect many words from him. If you want to hear “I Love You” and other words of comfort, it would be incredibly rare and only ever when he’s really tired and not quite in control of his demeanor.
- He would only want to settle down with you if you were self reliant. He’s not always going to be there so you need to take care of yourself
- You would probably also be a Spider or some form of assassin/hunter. He needs to be able to know that you can take down enemies when he’s not with you. You being able to beat down enemies turns him on so much.  
- Feitan also probably sees marriage as an unnecessary formality. You’d probably be dating for a while, so why do you need a piece of paper telling you how much you love each other? If you wanted it though, he wouldn’t protest too much.
- He’s not COMPLETELY devoid of emotions though. He still loves you very much. His form of affection comes from small changes in his body language and the little things he does
- He will remember important dates and occasionally give a word of praise on those days. This lack of affection is definitely not because he doesn’t love you, but rather because he just does not know what to do when it comes to romance
- His form of romance also comes in more romantic sex. We all know that Feitan is a kinky mf, but after being with you for so long, he mellows out a bit. He worships your body however you want as his main form of reassurance
- Sometimes with urging from the rest of the Troupe he tries to bring you things you’d enjoy. Will get you some form of matching clothing or maybe a practical knife. 
- He actually gets you a cat on your birthday. He’ll act like he didn’t plan it, but he knew you wanted to take care of something while he was gone. Pretends he hates the cat, but they’re really similar and get along well.  
- Due to his background and upbringing, trusting and physical contact is foreign and unnatural to him. It would take a lot of time together and loving nights for him to finally let you cuddle and have him kiss you often
- After you two break that barrier he can’t stop holding your hand, touching your waist, giving you forehead kisses. he is so touch starved, give him love
- Will probably never seriously consider children. In your lines of work it would be too dangerous with not much of a benefit. That being said though, if you do end up getting pregnant he won’t protest too hard
- The kid will end up growing on him though. He definitely doesn’t want more though, one is more than enough for him. Will secretly find it adorable when his son or daughter calls him dad. He will teach your kid how to torture and interrogate someone in 10 minutes. 
- He loves the family you two have and wouldn’t trade it for the world. Be patient with him and he would take a bullet for you 
part 2??
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yan-twst · 3 years
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Hi can i request yandere savanaclaw and pomefiore when their s/o finally succumbs to stockholm syndrome? Good luck with your writing!
warnings: general yandere content, vague mentions of physical abuse, toxic relationships, drug use
leona kingscholar
cats enjoy to play with their food, but leona won’t deny it’s just nice to finally have some peace and quiet with his darling
as much fun as it was when they were so jumpy and finicky, as much as he enjoyed watching the light in their eyes die out in panic, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get tiring after a while
leona relishes in the meek affection, months and months of being terrorized and threatened by someone as powerful as leona has taught them to be nice and obedient, and leona fully enjoys the attention
he can nap safely, knowing they won’t dare move from their spot held into his chest. before, they might have thought they could run- take advantage of his sleeping- but they know better now, don’t they?
he’s their king. he’s their everything, really. leona isn’t a very mushy guy, but when he’s holding his little herbivore in his arms... he feels a sense of future. they’re his; he’ll decide their fate, he’ll be their one and only
leona doesn’t talk a lot about it, but he’s already decided his darling will be a stay-at-home spouse. he may not have a solid idea of what his future with them looks like, but he knows for sure it’ll be pleasant for him
 he’s shaped his darling into a perfect, subservient partner. he adores being pampered- love, he wants to be loved, he’s spent so long being unwanted and feared and hated he needs to be loved show him he’s wanted assure him he’s their  king- and he’ll make his darling hold him as he sleeps
leona thoroughly relishes in his darling as they cling to him, forgetting their past life before being kidnapped. sure, he sometimes misses their spunk, the way they{d act before; but he much prefers the way they stick to him now, reassure him they won’t ever run, to please keep them around
ruggie bucci
ruggie has spent the entirety of the “relationship” groveling and vying for attention and affection from his darling
oh, sure, he found their defiance beautiful before. he found their fear and their tears beautiful, too. but really, ruggie just wants them to be his
yes, entirely, purely his. ruggie needs something to call his own: not the clothes he got as hand-me-downs he’ll have to hand down, not the cash he gives to his grandma and to the kids in his street- his darling is entirely his, and the fact they understand this makes him ecstatic
they’re broken? stockholm’s? oh, who cares? everything is perfect now, so does it really matter the process it took to get here?
ruggie relishes in returning from work to his darling, embracing them, nuzzling into their chest, facing no resistance. 
it’s such a relief they aren’t trying to run away, really; buying locks and fixing the doors and windows isn’t cheap. they didn’t understand he was working hard for their future together, but it’s fine now, because they understand now, right? right?
seeing they’ve completely given up on running away or going home, ruggie relaxes- and by that i mean he takes on more jobs
it pains him to be away from his darling, especially when they beg for him to stay- perhaps he should’ve been more careful, breaking his previously normal and strong darling into a clingy and meek lover- but in his brain, it just makes sense. he needs to provide for his lover, right? 
because in ruggie’s brain, he’s got it all planned out. he’s getting out of the slums and building the perfect life with his darling, of course- he doesn’t want them to work a day of their life, he wants their life to be picture perfect, as he works to provide a nice life. isn’t that all they need, really?
jack howl
jack is... torn
he’s been justifying his actions as “protection”- this is just his instinct to protect his mate, his instinct to protect his partner, it’s normal, he’s normal- but he knows it’s... wrong.
it terrifies him when he notices his darling stop fighting back. it terrifies him when the fear in their eyes is replaced with love, to see how they’re suddenly so dependent on him
oh, don’t get him wrong, he loves it. he relishes in the affection, in how they seek him out; they patiently sit in his room, ask to accompany him in his early morning jogs just to spend some time with him, care for his plants when he’s gone; they act almost as if they were there of his own will
and perhaps that’s why the other, rational side of him is terrified. they shouldn’t be so comfortable with him, not after all he’s done. oh, don’t get him wrong, he’d never push them away, he’d never let them go; even if they’ve stopped trying to run, he won’t leave the doors unlocked, but the mere fact they don’t even think to try is...
... he’s broken them, for sure. it has to be. 
and yet he can’t bring himself to feel bad. wolves only love one person, their one and only mate. perhaps this is fate- they’re his one and only, maybe they’ve realized that. that there’s nobody else for them, that they’re meant to be with him
jack worries, still. this is fine, it is- he adores it, he relishes in it, but how far can it go...? he’ll have moments when he panics; is this love or a way his darling is coping with his actions? he’ll hold them, requesting they assure him; they love him, they really love him, right?
vil schoenheit
... by the time vil realizes his darling’s succumbed to stockholm syndrome, they’re in deep.
because vil makes a habit of slipping love potions to his darling to keep them docile and affectionate, he’ll write up their behaviour to the potions- perhaps their body has become used to them...? some sort of new reaction to the usual formula? 
it’s when vil realizes the potion should’ve worn off but his darling isn’t kicking and crying or trembling that it hits him- something has changed
of course, it’s not the same. a love potion turns his darling into a malleable, meek, almost delirious doll- but his darling off the potion is usually... well, they usually fight back, scream and cry; they’re ungrateful, trying to escape vil’s care
but they... aren’t doing that, despite vil knowing the potion should have worn off hours ago
they’re quiet, looking at vil as if waiting for instructions; they play with the edge of their shirt
vil is almost overwhelmed. this is- this is all he’s wanted. this is how it should have been from day one. 
he might not lay off the love potions; he doesn’t trust this “moment of clarity” as he calls it; he fears that one day his darling will return to their fear, to their shaking, trying to escape
but as time goes on, he learns that something has changed. at night, they cuddle up to him voluntarily, they let him dress them up, take care of them; and they only seem to worry about making him happy and meeting his expectations
it’s a turning point for vil. he’s been using love potions and other substances to keep his darling pliant- they have so much potential but just wouldn’t let him polish them- but now they are putty in his hands, trying so hard to meet his expectations, to earn his attention...
vil will tighten the leash. if they’re now reaching for affection and approval, he’ll play with the carrot and stick- slowly shaping them more and more into his ideal lover, rewarding their good actions with the affection and praise their isolated and broken spirit craves so much, and punishing all actions he deems “unsightly”
oh sure, his actions have already changed his darling beyond belief, but it’s not enough. vil will keep pushing, pushing and pushing- perhaps until something breaks
rook hunt
when an animal is hurt enough, it gives up; it stops running away, lies down to bleed to death or to be captured by its predator. that’s how he sees the situation; the “hunting” period is over, his darling’s given up
he can’t say it surprises him. all humans must have limits- being stalked, then kidnapped, being caught again and again, he understands how that must whittle down someone... oh, but it was all born from love, so it’s all ok, isn’t it?
indeed, this is just the next step in the relationship
his darling might not be running or jumping at shadows anymore, but rook is a lover of all love languages. he’ll gladly accept the physical affection that comes with his darling’s broken spirit
affectionate as always, rook doesn’t seem to care at all that his darling’s state is anything but natural. it’s almost something out of a romance book, the way they’ve come around, isn’t it?
because much of their time was spent fearing rook, running from him, being hurt as punishment, they’ve learnt to associate all these things with him. when they’re scared they call for him, they associate being chased with being loved, being hurt with affection. rook has perhaps used pavlovian conditioning to turn his darling into someone who couldn’t possibly survive outside of his care
a domestic animal cannot survive in the wild, rook knows this. and when he looks at his darling, who has become so used to their life locked inside, vying for their captor’s attention, sleeping so peacefully in his bed, he’s more sure than ever they belong nowhere outside of his sight
epel felmier
epel is a bit shocked, but he takes the situation with open arms
the one thing he wants the most is to be seen as strong, reliable, manly. he wants his darling to see him as everything he wants to be seen as, he wants to eliminate the image of him being “weak” or “fragile” from their mind
he often takes out his frustrations of being perceived in such ways onto them, too. he knows it’s not their fault per se, but god, it’s frustrating, and it’s not like he has many chances to let go off steam in a healthy way
on one hand, it’s a bit bittersweet. as much as he hates to say it, seeing his darling be scared of him gave him... some sort of power rush. oh, it made him feel so powerful, it really did, when he’d raise his voice and they’d flinch, when he’d grab them by the neck of the shirt when he was particularly pissed and they’d tense up. it’s wrong and fucked up- but it made him feel like he was the world’s most threatening man in his darling’s eyes
but well, having his darling settle into the “relationship” is also quite nice. he’s grown up seeing quiet, traditional marriages all through his childhood- he feels like he’s finally like those strong men who come back to their spouse each day, back to a loving partner who greets him with a smile and a kiss (and then he unlocks the chain around their ankle, and he praises them for not tugging at it, he can tell because there’s no friction burns, he’s so proud of them)
besides, just because his darling’s given up on escape, has somehow settled into a sort of fucked up routine, doesn’t mean epel is just magically fixing all the problems. he’s the problem- the way he loves, the way his heart tells him to take, take, take, to be reassured, to be in power- but they learn to try and rationalize it
it’s love, right? it- it has to be love, yes. epel is sweet. epel is nice. epel is sweet and nice and strong and he’s only doing what’s needed. epel isn’t horrible he isn’t a monster no how could they ever think that no he doesn’t hurt them he would never make them scared on purpose- it’s almost painful to watch his darling rationalize their captor’s behaviour, to relish the days epel carves apples for them and handfeeds them, to try and justify the days he ignores them and threatens them because he’s been pushed to the limit by vil
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superman86to99 · 3 years
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Superman #85 (January 1994)
Cat Grant in... "DARK RETRIBUTION"! Which is like normal retribution, but somehow darker. On the receiving end of Cat's darktribution is Winslow Schott, the Toyman, who suddenly changed his MO from "pestering Superman with wacky robots" to "murdering children" back on Superman #84, with one of his victims being Cat's young son Adam. Now Cat has a gun and intends to sneak it into prison to use it on Toyman. She's also pretty pissed at Superman for taking so long to find Toyman after Adam’s death (to be fair, Superman did lose several days being frozen in time by an S&M demon, as seen in Man of Steel #29).
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So how did Superman find Toyman anyway? Basically, by spying on like 25% of Metropolis. After finding out from Inspector Turpin that the kids were killed near the docks, Superman goes there and focuses all of his super-senses to get "a quick glimpse of every person" until he sees a bald, robed man sitting on a giant crib, and goes "hmmm, yeah, that looks like someone who murders children." At first, Superman doesn't understand why Toyman would do such a horrible thing, but then Schott starts talking to his mommy in his head and the answer becomes clear: he watched Psycho too many times (or Dan Jurgens did, anyway).
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Immediately after wondering why no one buys his toys, Toyman makes some machine guns spring out of his giant crib. I don't know, man, maybe it's because they're all full of explosives and stuff? Anyway, Toyman throws a bunch of exploding toys at Superman, including a robot duplicate of himself, but of course they do nothing. Superman takes him to jail so he can get the help he needs -- which, according to Cat, is a bullet to the face. Or so it seems, until she gets in front of him, pulls the trigger, and...
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PSYCHE! It was one of those classic joke guns I’ve only ever seen in comics! Cat says she DID plan to bring a real gun, but then she saw one of these at a toy store and just couldn't resist. Superman, who was watching the whole thing, tells Cat she could get in trouble for this stunt, but he won't tell anyone because she's already been through enough. Then he asks her if she needs help getting home and she says no, because she wants to be more self-sufficient.
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I think that's supposed to be an inspiring ending, but I don't know... Adam's eerie face floating in the background there makes me think she's gonna shave her head and climb into a giant crib any day, too. THE END!
Character-Watch:
Cat did become more self-sufficient after this, though. Up to now, all of her storylines seemed to revolve around other people: her ex-husband, Morgan Edge, José Delgado, Vinnie Edge, and finally Toyman. After this, I feel like there was a clear effort to turn her into a character that works by herself. I actually like what they did with Cat in the coming years, though I still don’t think they had to kill her poor kid to do that -- they could have sent him off to boarding school, or maybe to live with his dad. Or with José Delgado, over at Power of Shazam! I bet Jerry Ordway would have taken good care of him.
Plotline-Watch:
Wait, so can Superman just find anyone in Metropolis any time he wants? Not really: this is part of the ongoing storyline about his powers getting boosted after he came back from the dead, which sounds pretty useful now but is about to get very inconvenient.
Don Sparrow points out: "It is interesting that as Superman tries to capture Schott, he at one point instead captures a robot decoy, particularly knowing what Geoff Johns will retroactively do to this storyline in years to come, in Action Comics #865, as we mentioned in our review of Superman #84." Johns also explained that the robot thought he was hearing his mother's voice due to the real Toyman trying to contact him via radio, which I prefer to the "psycho talks to his dead mom" cliche.
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Superman says "I never thought he'd get to the point where he'd KILL anyone -- especially children!" Agreed about the children part but, uh, did Superman already forget that Toyman murdered a whole bunch people on his very first appearance, in Superman #13? Or does Superman not count greedy toy company owners as people? Understandable, I guess.
There's a sequence about Cat starting a fire in a paper basket at the prison to sneak past the metal detector, but why do that if she had a toy gun all long? Other than to prevent smartass readers like us from saying "How did she get the gun into the prison?!" before the plot twist, that is.
Patreon-Watch:
Shout out to our patient Patreon patrons, Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Dave Shevlin, and Kit! The latest Patreon-only article was about another episode of the 1988 Superman cartoon written by Marv Wolfman, this one co-starring Wonder Woman (to Lois' frustration).
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Another Patreon perk is getting to read Don Sparrow's section early, because he usually finishes his side of these posts long before I do (he ALREADY finished the next one, for instance). But now this one can be posted in public! Take it away, Don:
Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):
We begin with the cover, and it’s a good one— an ultra tight close up for Cat Grant firing a .38 calibre gun, with the titular Superman soaring in, perhaps too late.  An interesting thing to notice in this issue (and especially on the cover) is that the paper stock that DC used for their comics changed, so slightly more realistic shading was possible.  While it’s nowhere near the sophistication or gloss of the Image Comics stock of the time, there is an attempt at more realistic, airbrushy type shading in the colour.  It works well in places, like the muzzle flash, on on Cat Grant’s cheeks and knuckles, but less so in her hair, where the shadow looks a browny green on my copy.
The interior pages open with a pretty good bit of near-silent storytelling.  We are deftly shown, and not told the story—there are condolence cards and headlines, and the looming presence of a liquor bottle, until we are shown on the next page splash the real heart of the story, a revolver held aloft by Catherine Grant, bereaved mother, with her targeting in her mind the grim visage of the Toyman.
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While their first few issues together meshed pretty well, it’s around  this issue that the pencil/inks team of Jurgens and Rubinstein starts to look a little rushed in places.  A few inkers who worked with Jurgens that I’ve spoken to have hinted that his pencils can vary in their level of detail, from very finished  to pretty loose, and in the latter case, it’s up to the inker to embellish where there’s a lack of detail.  Some inkers, like Brett Breeding, really lay down a heavier hand, where there’s quite a bit of actual drawing work in addition to adding value and weight to the lines.  I suspect some of the looseness in the figures, as well as empty  backgrounds reveals that these pencils were less detailed than we often  see from Jurgens.
There’s some weird body language in the tense exchange between Superman and Cat as she angrily confronts him about his lack of progress in capturing her son’s killer—Superman  looks a little too dynamic and pleased with himself for someone ostensibly apologizing. Superman taking flight to hunt down Toyman is classic Jurgens, though.
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Another example of art weirdness comes on page 7, where Superman gets filled in on the progress of the Adam Morgan investigation.  Apparently Suicide Slum has some San Francisco-like hills, as that is one very steep sidewalk separating Superman and Turpin from some central-casting looking punks.
The  sequence of Superman concentrating his sight and hearing on the  waterfront area is well-drawn, and it’s always nice to see novel uses of his powers.  Tyler Hoechlin’s Superman does a similar trick quite often on the excellent first season of Superman & Lois.  The full-bleed splash of Superman breaking through the wall to capture Toyman is definitely panel-of-the-week material, as we really feel Superman’s rage and desperation to catch this child-killer.
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Pretty much all the pages with Cat Grant confronting Winslow Schott are  well-done and tensely paced.  While sometimes I think the pupil-less  flare of the eye-glasses is a cop-out, it does lend an opaqueness and mystery to what Toyman is thinking.  Speaking of cop-outs, the gag gun twist ending really didn’t work for me.  I was glad that Cat didn’t lower herself to Schott’s level and become a killer, even for revenge, but the prank gun just felt too silly of a tonal shift for a storyline with this much gravitas.  The breakneck denouement that Cat is now depending only on herself didn’t get quite enough breathing room either.
While I appreciated that the ending of this issue avoided an overly simplistic, Death Wish style of justice, this issue extends this troubling but brief era of Superman comics. The casual chalk outlines of  yet two more dead children continues the high body count of the  previous handful of issues, and the tone remains jarring to me.  The issue is also self-aware enough to point out, again, that Schott is  generally an ally of children, and not someone who historically wishes  them harm, but that doesn’t stop the story from going there, in the most  violent of terms. In addition to being a radical change to the Toyman  character, it’s handled in a fashion more glib than we’re used to seeing  in these pages.  The mental health cliché of a matriarchal obsession, a la Norman Bates doesn’t elevate it either.  So, another rare misstep  from Jurgens the writer, in my opinion.   STRAY OBSERVATIONS:
I  had thought for sure that Romanove Vodka was a sly reference to a certain Russian Spy turned Marvel superhero, but it turns out there  actually is a Russian Vodka called that, minus the “E”, produced not in Russia, as one might think from the Czarist name, but rather, India.
While it made for an awkward exchange, I was glad that Cat pointed out how  her tragedy more or less sat on the shelf while Superman dealt with the "Spilled Blood" storyline.  A lesser book might not have acknowledged any  time had passed. Though I did find it odd for Superman to opine that he  wanted to find her son’s murderer even more than she wanted him to.  Huh?  How so?
I love the detail that Toyman hears the noise of Superman soaring to capture him, likening it to a train coming.
I  quibble, but there’s so much I don’t understand about the “new” Toyman.  If he’s truly regressing mentally, to an infant-like state, why does he wear this phantom of the opera style long cloak while he sits in his baby crib?  Why not go all the way, and wear footie pajamas, like the lost souls on TLC specials about “adult babies”?
I get that Cat Grant is in steely determination mode, but it seemed a little out of place that she had almost no reaction to the taunting she faced from her child’s killer.  She doesn’t shed a single tear in the entire issue, and no matter how focused she is on vengeance, that doesn’t seem realistic to me. [Max: That's because this is not just retribution, Don. It's dark retribution. We’ve been over this!]
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starkexposition · 3 years
Text
The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition
Forced myself against my will, at gunpoint, to update this. Here it finally is.
Chapter 2: Electric Boogaloo
Rating: Teen/Mature, it's from college!Peter Parker's perspective Pairings: Tony/Steve, Tony/Strange, Tony/literally everyone, Happy/May, Peter/MJ, Peter/Black Cat, many token ships eventually Summary: One man. Twelve contestants. Several weeks in paradise. All through the horrified eyes of one sticky, adopted son.
“Mr. Stark…”
Most people have normal dreams.
“Can you hear me?”
Nice ones.
“It’s Peter.”
Weird ones.
“Hey.”
Bad ones.
“We won.”
Ones you forget.
“Mr. Stark…”
Or in my case, ones you wish you’d forget.
“We won, Mr. Stark.”
They say when you dream about a person, it’s because they’re dreaming about you, too.
“We won—you did it, Mr. Stark. You did it.”
That never explained why I kept dreaming about him when he was gone.
“I’m sorry, Tony.”
It was never different. Never had a different ending—never even a nightmare. Just the same weak eyes followed by the same labored breaths, every single dream. And each time, the woman who believed in him most would sit with him, hand held to his heart, and promise to him that everything would be okay. And with that, the man who never sleeps would find the peace to finally rest.
There was nothing like it. I had already been through my fair share by then—whether it was the plane crash, or Uncle Ben, or the girl that I loved… Mr. Stark was different. There was no regret, or blame; it was only the mission. The worst part about it was struggling with the selfish feeling that something had been taken away from me, all while balancing the pride that I felt in what he did for the whole universe—and most importantly, for the family that was built around him.
To us, it was a sacrifice. To Iron Man, it was a responsibility.
I guess that must be the reason it kept replaying in my dreams. It didn’t need amending because of the good that it caused, but hell—it kept coming back like a nightmare.
Even after he came back, most sleeps would end the same way: with everyone around us taking a knee for him as the air grew quiet in his passing, Captain Rogers would rise to his feet, place a hand on my shoulder, and say through watered eyes and a weakened smile:
“It was all for you.”
And with Pepper’s blessing, Steve would step forward and pick Tony up from where he laid, carefully carrying him back as Pepper, Rhodey, and myself would slowly walk alongside them.
Some nights, if I got lucky, I’d wake up before Steve’s words.
But not last night.
My brain managed to string out every last excruciating detail of the dream it possibly could in an effort to stay asleep and ignore the sound of repulsors powering down to a low hum beside me. But as they hovered nearby, the stinky air of New York was blown through the ventilation of my suit, which, unfortunately, can be stinky enough to wake you when you become aware of it. A figure took the place of the city’s rising sun, casting a shadow that darkened the scene and gifted me with my daily post-dream reminder...
“You know if you prefer this for your room and board situation, I’d be happy to take up the bill.”
Tony Stark lives.
Which is great. Quality of life really did improve when he came back—for myself, and others, too. Being adopted by him, however, kind of spiced things up a bit. From mentor to parent meant that I was proving myself to him from a parental standpoint, and that consequently resulted in me becoming far more relaxed with him. ‘Cause he’s kind of stuck with me now, you know?
But even in times like this particular morning, when I had a curfew the night before and had to get back to the house upstate by a certain time and specifically did not do so in favor of fighting crime and flirting with a kleptomaniac in a leather suit, I still don’t think I couldn’t be grateful for that fact even when I am abruptly woken from my slumber on a rusty fire escape in New York by Iron Man.
There was always something about those slitted glowing eyes in the faceplate that managed to relay the disappointment behind it so well.
“How’d you find me?” I asked as I kicked my leg up onto the platform, letting my eyes settle on the ladders above.
“Same way I always find you—” Beep-beep, beep-beep! Karen pulled up a GPS screen in my lenses that pinpointed my location, with an additional flashing blip for where the Iron Man suit was just a few feet away. “Installed another tracking device in your suit.”
I pulled off my mask and sat up quickly. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he gestured to me, his tone dripping with annoyance. “I don’t have time to play hide-and-go-seek in the alleys and dumpsters of New York every time I need you.”
“I have a phone.”
“That you don’t answer.” Tony then tossed over my backpack that was webbed up on the dumpster below. “You know, you could be sleeping on a fire escape in Cambridge right now.”
“MIT doesn’t have MJ—” Oof. Too quick there, Pete. “Or-or Ned. Or May. Or… you?”
The face plate turned to stare at me with slitted eyes once again, Mr. Stark tilting his head. “I thought you broke up with MJ.”
Of course, he won’t ignore it.
“We broke up,” I corrected him, even though that was also technically wrong, but he definitely did not need to know that. “Besides, we’re fine. We’re friends.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Last week,” I told him, pulling the mask over my face again.
Mr. Stark stayed silent, faceplate staring into my soul with those narrowed eyes as he waited for me.
“Okay, fine,” I sighed, swinging down from the escape, “a month ago.”
I shot a web to the wall of the building across from us, and like that, we were en route home.
“Ouch.” Naturally, Mr. Stark’s voice came in through the suit itself while he traveled closely behind me. “That bad, huh?”
“Not really,” I lied. “And I mean, we did try the whole friend thing. That’s not gone. It’s just that… well, sometimes when you break up, it makes it a lot harder to stay broken up when you try to be friends right away, you know?”
“So…” He paused for a moment, as we turned a corner to Avengers Mansion. “You’re not friends?”
I landed on the walkway and pushed my way inside. “I stressed her out too much. I’m just giving her space.”
Mr. Stark’s suit was entirely gone by the time he followed me into the kitchen of the mansion. Making a beeline to the coffee, he raised an eyebrow at me as he pulled the pot and two mugs for the both of us, fixing mine up with sugar before he poured. “That must be easy for you at least.”
“Never said it was.” I informed him as I rummaged around the refrigerator for something, anything with sustenance… Bingo. Pizza. The only consistency that truly exists within the Avengers is the ability to almost always find leftover pizza in the fridge. “But is that stuff ever really easy?”
“Well…” Tony’s voice raised suggestively as he circled around the counter and took a sip of his coffee. “It sure seems like it is now that you’ve got yourself a feline to keep you company.”
I came to a halt, cold pizza at my lips. “Seriously? I’m not talking about this with you.”
Tony cackled, sipping his coffee as he slipped from the kitchen to the elevator, finger pressed on the ‘open door’ button as he waited for me to gather my pizza and coffee to join him. Moments later, we were entering his workshop, which was remarkably as cluttered as I had seen it last. He walked through slowly, moving papers and hardware around to organize the place and put away his projects reluctantly, and each time he seemed lost in thought, staring at some weird looking, half-dismantled device, he would take a sip from his coffee before making his decision on what to do with whatever it was he was holding.
“All packed?” He asked as he pulled the mug from his lips, tossing something into the trash.
I gripped the mask in my hands and turned away from him to face one of the blueprints on the wall, pretending to read it. “Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Good,” he said. He stopped at the door to his office and looked at me with expectant eyes. “Well? Get dressed so we can go home.”
Before I could even turn away, the door to his office was shut behind him, the blue glow of his holograms flashing through the opaque glass of his office doors and windows. Whatever it was he was working on must not have required too much attention, as he was waiting impatiently for me by his car in the mansion’s garage only a few minutes later, toes tapping the ground while he leaned against the hideously orange supercar.
“Really?” I asked. “This one again?”
His eyes perked up over the rim of his glasses, eyebrows shooting up in offense. “Would you rather walk?”
I shook my head and walked over to the passengers side with Mr. Stark moving out of the way to the driver’s door. “I just think—” I got in, stuffing my bag by my feet, “—you could spice it up sometime. Maybe you could go red next. Or a matte black… now, that’d be nice. All electric, so smooth. Stealthy. It’d be great.”
Tony sat beside me, buckling his belt as he looked at me in disbelief again, “I’m sorry, can you even drive?”
I stared at him and waited for him to realize, but he just stared back. “I’m 19,” I reminded him.
“And?” He said as he started the car and drove closer to the garage door, allowing it to open automatically at his approach. “You never drive anywhere.”
His gaze looked past me then, encouraging mine to follow, and we both looked at the gray Audi that sat on the far right end of the mansion’s garage collecting dust. I looked back at Tony, ready to defend myself and my apparent preference for swinging as my primary mode of travel, but he just grinned and floored it, pulling us away from the mansion, the city, and to upstate New York.
* * *
Saturday nights at the Stark Residence meant one thing: family dinner. It wasn’t required, obviously, since most weekends I couldn’t make it home, and even if I could, I usually chose to not to, as I was 19, in college, had homework, Ned, and was constantly in an internalized battle of wanting to win my ex-girlfriend back and my unexplained desire to spend an unusual amount of time around one of my more recent torments in life:
Felicia Hardy.
And if I’m honest, I’ve probably spent more of my Saturday nights playing cat and mouse with Felicia than I have been doing homework or playing games with Ned. Only thing is, lately it has seemed more like she’s the cat and I’m the mouse—appropriate, since she is the Black Cat and all—despite that I have almost always been in pursuit of her. But my naivety always manages to lead me into falling for her traps and doing whatever it might be that she had planned for me—which, of course, almost always results in me failing to “catch” her.
What a shame.
Of course, that does exclude all of those nights where I did catch up to her. On the rooftops, quips and riddles, jabs and flirts, and the few times I got lucky enough for her to lift my mask up just enough to leave a…
How did I get started on Felicia again?
Right. Family dinners. Instead of seeing her. Just a prelude to the next few months. Did I even remember to say goodbye?
Sigh.
Anyway. Family dinners.
The only night of the week we managed to get (mostly) everyone together. Between Stark Industries and some Avengers work for Tony (remotely, of course, since the man really can’t help himself), Morgan in school and clubs, the vast Morgan Babysitting Unit (Rhodey, Maria Hill, Aunt May, and Happy mostly) trading off the rascal throughout the week, and of course, whatever Happy and May got up to in their free time (don’t remind me), Saturdays were usually the one time in the week that everyone tried their best to set aside for visiting with each other. You know, for Tony’s sake. While the ladies, including Tony’s new personal assistant, Charlotte, would split a bottle of wine as Happy and May cooked the meal together—Italiano, as they introduced it this particular time—the rest would buzz around the house, catching up on the week’s events and sharing laughs like a normal family would.
Normal.
Of course, with it being my first time home for dinner in a few months, most of the attention was on me during the meal—as Mr. Stark cleverly directed it to be, in an effort to avoid talking about the obvious circus that was set to begin the following day—with Rhodey and Maria mainly prying at me for school and hero related questions, but they were sure to cover every topic in the book, like the one I was hoping to avoid.
Girls.
Or, more specifically, MJ.
It took me going from my typical sarcasm to getting quiet and frustrated when the questions persisted for the conversation to finally fizzle out, bringing our dinner party to an end. Rhodey stood up from his seat beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it in understanding, as he grabbed his plate to leave. Everyone, apart from myself and May, began to disperse with him, heading to the kitchen with their empty plates.
I lifted a rogue spaghetti noodle above my face and caught it in my mouth between my tongue and teeth as Aunt May poured herself another glass of wine. She looked up at me as I practically inhaled the noodle, eyes slimming into an unamused look as she stared at me over the rim of her glass.
“This is our last dinner together for a while and you’re not even gonna use your manners?” She tilted her head, hair sliding down from her shoulder.
I made a face and shook my head, reaching for the spoon in the pan. “Not when it’s spaghetti night,” I shrugged in refusal, dumping a small second serving on my plate.
May eventually followed in suit, her eyes nervously checking up on me again and again. With a breath and returned eye contact, I braced myself for the inevitable questions—
“You’re all packed?”
“Yes.”
“Have your passport?”
“Yes.”
Her face fell and she leaned forward, brows furrowing in worry. “… Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course not,” I said. “It was my idea to begin with.”
She lowered her voice. “I mean for Tony.”
“Well, why not?”
Aunt May stared at me for a couple seconds, noodles sliding off her fork back onto the plate. “I don’t know, he just… you know, this is a lot of publicity for someone who, you know… was dead—”
“—in a coma—”
“—less than a year ago,” May let out a sigh, her shoulders sinking. “Do you have to get technical with me?”
I set my fork down and sat back in my seat, biting my lip in frustration. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Tony’s been back for, what? Seven months?” She crossed her arms.
“Publicly, yes, and it’s not like he really kept it much of a secret before that, anyway,” I said, crossing my arms back. “He’s been alive for almost two years. A lot can happen in two years. A person can grow.”
She let out another sigh of concern. “And you don’t think all of this is too much for him?”
“He’s two years old. Of course not,” I said, dropping another noodle into my mouth. “I was ready for that kind of attention when I was his age.”
“Peter…”
“Wasn’t I?”
“Peter.”
“Listen,” I sighed, “he agreed to it at his own risk. Besides, no matter what he does, publicity will follow. He knew this ahead of time. That’s why he waited until his rehab was over—he wanted to be ready. And if he says he’s ready…”
Her eyes looked over her glasses’ frames at me. “We both know he’s not ready.”
“You know, this might actually be good for him,” I offered. “A good way for him to kinda get back in it, you know? It’s like a nice, long vacation with a bunch of pretty people gawking over him. I honestly don’t see the problem with it.”
“A bunch of pretty people trying to use him for his money, maybe,” she started picking at her food again.
“That’s the life he always used to live, May. Which is why I think it could be good for him. Might teach him to have fun again—you know, center him,” I sat up in my chair again, picking up my fork and stuffing my face with more noodles. “Plus,” I said through chewing, “it’s good promotion.”
“Promotion for what?”
“I don’t know, really,” I swallowed my food at her look of distaste. “Something to do with clean something something. Something for the planet. Or something. He was talking about it with those fancy people from the network out at dinner the other night.”
“And you didn’t listen?”
I wound up more pasta and took another bite. “No, why would I?”
Aunt May stopped her movements and stared at me for a moment before continuing to scoop up the noodles. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re gonna need for the trip?”
“Positive,” I smiled.
“Alright,” she let out a sigh, “if you say so.”
I smirked a bit, and took another bite full. “Are you sure you’re gonna make it that long without me?”
She took a small piece of a noodle from her plate and chucked it at me. “Zip it, you. I’ll be fine.”
I peeled the noodle from my cheek and looked at it. “Man, Aunt May… Nice aim—” And with that, I launched the noodle back at her.
By the time Morgan and I had finished clean up duty, with me washing the dishes and her wiping down the table with a cloth I gave her, the adults had migrated to the lounge with another bottle of wine, loud chatter and laughter filling up the air around them. Tony was off with Charlotte, going over a checklist with her to ensure that he had everything he needed for the trip before our departure in the morning. I stopped Morgan before she headed upstairs, holding a finger to my lip to keep her quiet as I pulled the freezer door open for her, and before we knew it, we were sneaking upstairs to our rooms with a popsicle in Morgan’s hand and snacks in my own.
The crinkling noise a bag of potato chips makes as you open it is one of the most satisfying noises in the world. Especially in the safety of your own home—unabashedly opening up a new bag without holding back to muffle any sounds. Just that sweet, sweet tearing noise as the smell of greased up, salty potatoes fills your nostrils and momentarily takes the place of that super sweet tub of Ben & Jerry’s beside you. One plus about upgrading to a king sized bed is finally having the room to keep your food beside you as you lie there—it’s a great way to be lonely without entirely feeling lonely. For the most part. Except when you remember that you’re eating an whole pint of ice cream entirely by yourself, because that’s when it starts to hit you that you’re actually, seriously doing this and you really shouldn’t be—
“Really, Pete?”
I looked up from my snacks as I pulled out an earbud, my eyes meeting the unamused eyes of my father. “What?” I asked.
He closed the door behind himself as he walked closer, crossing his arms. “We just picked those up for the flight tomorrow and you’re already eating them?”
“I was hungry,” I told him before grabbing another chip.
“You’re supposed to be getting everything ready,” he grumbled.
“I am,” I said, pointing the chip towards the half-zipped suitcase on the floor, with shirt sleeves and socks and pants sticking out the sides… Well. I tried. “Over there.”
His gaze followed my potato chip to the suitcase and he walked over to it, opening it up to see the jumbled mess of clothes that I neatly tossed into the suitcase from my closet—which, mind you, was already half packed from the last field trip we took in school a month ago. Clever, I know. I mean, half of the clothes were dirty anyway, and a lot of them I just grabbed from my floor… so really, most of them were at least a smidgen dirty. Probably, like, 90% of them were dirty. But none of that really mattered, you see, because we are staying in an actual house while we’re there, and real houses always have washers and dryers, right?
Right?
That didn’t quite matter any longer either, as my father’s eyes fell into that absolutely terrifying “disappointed” look that I was unfortunately seeing a lot of as of late. But just as he went to close it, his eyes widened at the sight of something else and he knelt down to tug on a piece of cloth.
A red piece of cloth. And blue. And black. That turned out to be more than just a piece of cloth. And that was suddenly being dangled in my face for a split second before it was folded over my father’s arm.
“No suit,” his stern voice rang through the room as he turned back towards the door.
My eyes widened as I jumped from my bed, almost knocking over my ice cream, and I followed him out. “What do you mean ‘no suit’? I can’t just go away for that long without it—”
He opened the door, looking back at me. “And is that seriously how you’re taking care of this thing?” He pushed through, lifting the suit to his nose. “God, Pete, it smells…”
“Dad,” I pleaded, “I can’t leave without it.”
“Seriously. When’s the last time you sent Hap to get this thing dry-cleaned?” He turned back to look in my room, pointing at the suitcase as the door swung shut. “By the way, pal, one half-assed packing job isn’t gonna cut it. We’ll be gone the whole summer. Pack accordingly.”
I stopped in the hall as he continued up it with the suit still slung around his arm. “Dad, please,” I begged.
He began walking backwards, a smirk plastered to his lips. “No can do, kiddo,” he said. “You’re not supposed to work while you’re on vacation.”
And with that, he was gone, spending the rest of his evening with the usual entourage before they headed out to Happy’s place for the night.
I didn’t notice myself falling asleep. I wasn’t planning on it either—I don’t think I ever even rested my head for a second. But there I was; it was one o’clock, N64 fan roaring, half-eaten pint of ice cream melting accompanied by an opened bag of potato chips, and I had fallen asleep, controller still in hand. I peeled myself out of bed slowly, grabbing the snacks and heading downstairs to put them away in their respective places. As I was sealing away the tub of ice cream in the freezer, I noticed the door to the workshop downstairs slightly propped open, a faint glow coming from it and the distant voice of FRIDAY.
Curiosity killed the cat, right? Wish me luck.
Ever-so-thankful for my powers, I creaked the door open quietly and jumped up to the ceiling, slowly crawling down the spiral staircase until I finally reached the workshop. Everything was dark and put away apart from the desk, where Tony sat in his rolling chair, staring up at the blue holograms projected around him.
As though his breath had been hitched in his lungs for a long while, Tony let out a sharp sigh as he let go of his frozen stature, leaning forward in his seat. “Alright FRIDAY,” he pulled a pen from his desk and started scribbling on a piece of paper, “run the scans.”
“Certainly, boss,” FRIDAY said, and the holograms began pulling up hundreds, thousands—hell, even millions of files of footage. “Scanning all known devices now.”
Tony sat back in his seat again, jaw clenched in fear as hopeful eyes watched the projections around him. A sigh escaped his lips as he watched FRIDAY sort through the files, hurt filling the contortions of his face and… That’s when I noticed him.
How had I missed him?
“Come on,” Tony prayed, his eyes daring to well up into tears. “Come on, Cap.”
As files were sorted, discarded or scanned again and again, the screen running through images and clips so fast it hardly even flashed with the changes, the files were compared to an image presented to the right of them, none of them matching up with with the familiar head of blond hair that was almost damn near waiting for a match.
Years later, and Tony Stark was still searching for Steve Rogers.
I guess it sort of came as a surprise to me. He didn’t talk about Cap very often. If he did, it was usually short lived—it was never really something he chose to dwell on. And anytime someone tried to bring him up, he never spoke of their time together like it had the weight that I knew it did—like they were just some old buddies back in the day, and that was it. With everything going on in his life, I guess I just assumed he was a bit forced to move on from it.
Then again, when Tony came back—which, mind you, will forever be the most shocking moment of my entire life—one of the first things he asked about was Steve. Just to know if where he was… if he was okay. I was the one who told him he was gone, that he had brought the stones home, and was never to return.
He gave me a small nod when I told him, eyes drifting away from me, as he forced out a quiet, “okay, then.”
And that was it. That was all he ever asked about him. After he quickly regained his composure, Pepper ushered him away to get him some nourishment until they both finally decided it was time to wake Morgan up to see him again after seven long months apart.
I always wondered if Captain Rogers would have stayed if he knew Tony was coming back.
I guess that was part of the tragedy, wasn’t it? How could anyone have known that by some miracle he would come back? I hadn’t, Pepper hadn’t, nor did Rhodey, or Morgan, or Happy. There was no way Captain Rogers would have predicted that, either. He, like the rest of us, altered his life accordingly.
But if he got the chance to see what I was seeing, would he come back?
“I’m sorry, boss,” FRIDAY said solemnly. “The scans were unsuccessful.”
I suppose we’d never know.
Tony sat still, defeat stealing whatever energy he had left in him, as he tried desperately to understand the holograms before him. He stared for what felt like ages, breathing through the frown on his lips, swallowing back his guts here and there whenever he needed it. Finally, his eyelashes fluttered as he looked away from what was before him, energy joining him once again to neaten his paperwork. “Well, then,” he forced out, “let’s wrap it up for a while, shall we?”
He stood from his desk, picking up a mug of cold coffee and bringing it to his lips as he turned and started walking away, papers still in hand. He walked to a cabinet, dropping the papers into a file as he slowly lowered the mug, swallowing back his thoughts with his coffee.
“Would you like me to keep an open scan going while you’re gone?” FRIDAY inquired.
Tony’s eyes broke from wherever they had drifted, running in my direction on their way to look at the hologram—
Uh oh.
I managed to scurry back right as his head stopped its movement, hiding out of sight before his eyes flickered back over in my direction.
“Yeah,” he agreed. Footsteps. “Let me know if you find anything on your radar.”
Goose bumps. Skin tingling. Danger. Danger. Danger. I don’t think I’ve ever crawled on a ceiling faster than I did, barely making it to the door in time to leave it cracked where it was before he noticed it. It was faster to go out through the porch and up through my window than it was to run through that maze of a house, and I still only made it just in time to get under the covers before my father cracked open my door to check if I was sleeping. The pixelated N64 screen and controller by my hand was seemingly convincing enough, as he turned out the rest of my lights and left me to sleep.
* * *
To be honest, I wasn’t the most excited person when I realized that being adopted by Tony Stark also meant moving off to some cabin in the deep woods of upstate New York. The whole farm life thing never exactly appealed to me the way it did others, I guess. I was perfectly fine with living just a block away from my favorite hoagie joint, a couple blocks down from my best friend, the same part of town as the girl I sorely wanted back, and you know, the same city as the college that I attended daily. The drives back and forth from campus whenever I actually did make my way home only started to get better when I was actually doing them on my own, but they were still painfully long when Ned wasn’t able to join me for a weekend. And when your only entertainment for an entire weekend (or even week) is a six-year-old who is particularly obsessed with outsmarting you, Happy Hogan, and a video game that you somehow manage to fall asleep to while playing pretty much every night as of late, life can get pretty lonely up in the boonies.
Still, there was something to be said about waking up surrounded by nature instead of the city.
You’d be surprised as to just how calming it is for the morning sun’s glow to slowly enter your room, birds chirping in the trees outside your windows, wind chimes twinkling as a soothing voice peacefully rings throughout the four walls of your room…
“Everybody was kung fu fighting—” I don’t think I could have slapped my alarm any faster.
I attempted at covering my head with a pillow to block out the light, but the disturbance of voices downstairs disrupted my Sunday morning a bit early again—although this time, the voices seemed to amount to more of a crowd.
Great.
“Peter, your father will be arriving at your door in fifteen seconds,” Karen warned, lights brightening in my room as I hopped from my bed, placing in my earbuds. Like clockwork, the door creaked open as I paced my room in an effort to make myself seem busy.
“Pete.”
I pulled an earbud from my ear and glanced up at my father before heading to my closet. “You know, you should try knocking sometime.”
Mr. Stark trailed into my room behind me nonchalantly, looking around at the mess spread across the room as he picked up notebooks from my bed and placed them on my desk. “You say that like your alarm didn’t go off two minutes ago.”
“So?” I picked up the notebooks and moved them to my pile of schoolwork. “You never know—I could have been changing.”
He stopped in his tracks, his gaze tracing up to mine with a single eyebrow cocked up in disbelief. “Really?”
“What?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but pajamas before two on a weekend.” He forced back a smile. “Besides, my point stands, you weren’t doing anything embarrassing. Which, by the way—”
“—that’s not my point—”
“—what exactly was it that you were doing?” He turned on his heel, looking around my room. “And what is that smell? Garbage? Gym clothes? Dirty sheets?”
“Dad.”
“When’s the last time you changed your sheets?”
“Dad.”
“Can we get some windows open in here?”
“Of course,” Karen complied, the panel windows rotating open on command, the sound of the leaves following the breeze that filled the room.
“Much better,” he exhaled.
I collapsed on my bed again, then, placing the earbud back in my ear. “Do you always have to act like something died in here when you enter my room completely uninvited?”
“I’m saving your skin, you know. May is downstairs and if she smelled whatever’s going on in here, you’d have a much bigger problem on your hands.”
I jolted up in horror. “May? What is May still doing here—”
“I invited her,” he stated simply. “For Happy’s sake. Surprise.”
I scowled. “Don’t encourage them.”
“Which reminds me, where are your bags?”
“Bags?” My eyes then drifted to the very same suitcase from the night prior, just as untouched, half-full, and dirty as it was the last time my father told me to work on packing it.
My father followed my sight and immediately let out a sigh, his back to me, and I just knew the face that he was about to hit me with before he even managed to turn around. And then he did.
Here we go.
The look of unsurprised disbelief with a flavor of sheer, utter annoyance as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling.
Personally, this was my favorite look of disappointment from him. His “shocked” face that I always seem to get whenever I prove time and time again that he really should stop having any sort of faith in me being able to do anything that is not Avenger, homework, or video game. I mean, it’s only fair. To the both of us, really.
He finished his eye roll, those disappointed eyes falling to mine before he finally headed to the door. “Get dressed and be down in five. Say hi to the crew quickly and then please finish packing. We can’t be late for this.”
“We’re leaving today?”
“Seriously?” He was out the door in seconds, calling back, “How on earth are you more like me than I am like me these days?”
I jumped from my bed and grabbed a t-shirt that was folded on the top of my dresser, pulling it over my head as followed Mr. Stark down the hall, door clicking shut behind me. “How long until we leave?” I asked, catching up to him on the stairs.
“Around an hour.” He muttered, head tilting towards mine. “You definitely did not get dressed that quickly.”
“I’m not going in there alone,” I told him.
He halted about half-way down, looking me up and down in my sweatpants and Midtown gym shirt. His lips flattened into a line, the look of annoyance returning to his face. He then unbuttoned his suit jacket, turned, and shrugged. “Fine.” And as we finished our trek down the stairs, he expanded his arms grandly, cleared his throat, and projected an embarrassingly loud, “Everyone—Peter has finally decided to join us!”
Every pair of eyes in the room fell to mine.
… I brought this upon myself.
It was barely seconds before the only person from ABC that I actually recognized managed to catch my attention—and yes, there was, once again, a gray hair sitting intrusively on the blazer.
“Peter!” She exclaimed, peeling her way through the group to shake my hand. “Are you excited for the next few months?”
“Sure,” I offered, my eyes drifting from hers in search of Aunt May. I looked back at her, squinting a bit as I studied her face. “I’m sorry, I’m forgetting your name.”
“Nellie Freeman,” she reminded me. “I’m one of the producers for The Bachelor.”
“Uh huh,” I nodded my head. The whole bullshitting portion of this thing was already wearing on me, and I was only about… a sentence and a half into it. And it was obvious, as a rather awkward look of concern started to form on her face. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you, Ms. Freeman,” I sighed, slouching a bit. “I just rolled out of bed. I really just came down here for food before I get ready to leave.”
Nellie nodded then, stepping aside. “You should probably focus on that, Peter. And please, call me Nellie.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll find the chance to talk later, alright?” She said, clutching her mimosa close to her hair-intruding blazer.
I nodded, turning to make my way to the kitchen. “Okay, Ms. Freeman.”
And with that, I was free, and doing one of my favorite past times: rummaging the refrigerator for food. And as I rolled out each and every tray, drawer, compartment, searching high and low for just a little bit of cream cheese, I felt a very gentle tug at the hem of my shirt. I paused, raising my eyebrows to look down at the very soft, yet expectant face of a six-year-old, a small smile playing at her lips.
“Hi,” she said.
“Good Morgan,” I greeted her, stifling a laugh as she let out her usual giggle. “Staying out of trouble so far?”
“I need your help,” she said. She then waved for me to get close, so I did, crouching down and offering my ear to her. She cupped her hands, leaning close to whisper. “Can I have some of your root beer?” She asked, pulling back with an innocent look on her face.
“Maguna,” I sighed, turning towards her totally. “You do realize it’s still morning, right?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“And that our father is right on the other side of that wall?”
She nodded again. “Yes.”
I raised my eyebrows again, pointing in the direction of our living room. “And that if he catches me giving you root beer at seven in the morning without asking his permission, he’ll get very mad at me?”
“Yes,” she said, this time with a single, big nod.
“I don’t know, kiddo,” I told her, standing up and pulling a bottle of root beer from the fridge, “not sure if it’s worth the punishment.”
She tapped my arm this time, tugging at my shirt afterwards. “Please?”
“Hmm,” I looked between my sister and the bottle of root beer in my hands. “Are you ready to leave yet?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I set the bottle on the counter, along with the bagels and cream cheese, closing the fridge and crouching back down to meet her height. “Go on up to my room, then. I’ll bring some up to you when I finish getting my breakfast and you can play Mario Kart while I pack.”
And for the last hour that we spent in our home for the time being, my sister and I kept sanctuary up in my room, with Morgan sprawled out on my bed, trying to make sense of an N64 controller as I coached her on how to take out Bowser as revenge for his ruthless attack on her Luigi. My bags were carelessly tossed together in a matter of minutes, suit staying tucked away underneath heaps of clothes, and my Playstation carefully wrapped (and hidden) in clothes in my second suitcase, zipped away until further notice. I had bravely ventured downstairs to grab the next round of root beers, and the two of us were able to stay far away from any parental units paroling the household for the remainder of the hour—shocking, since Morgan’s got quite the big mouth when it comes to video games.
Packing the vans for our departure to the airport wasn’t chaotic until the rest of the black-blazer-with-a-stray-strand-of-gray-hair-obtrusively-standing-out-and-distracting-me-once-again people from ABC arrived. It went from packing up the car for a nice family vacation to me pretty much being sent up to my room to pack yet another whole bag with all of the items on their list of things that I had to bring for my “wardrobe” that I didn’t know were “required” for my nice, lovely, family vacation. And then came the labeling of each and every bag—which, of course, followed their security check of each and every bag.
That’s right. They brought security for us.
I know.
Anyway, I’m pretty sure the ridiculousness of checking Iron Man for safety threats was the tipping point of my sanity, so by about eight o’clock, I was lying in the middle of the driveway and tossing a rock up into the cloudy sky. At some point, Mr. Stark’s hand suddenly reached out and caught it and he looked down at me with a tired smile.
“You ready?”
I raised my eyebrows and caught the rock as my father dropped it. “Did my background check already make it in?”
“Funny,” he rolled his eyes as he reached down to grab my hand, pulling me up. “You should be praying that they don’t find it.”
“What do you mean?” I laughed, picking my backpack up from the curb as I followed him up the driveway to the big, black, spy-like SUVs. “Peter Parker is as threatening as Happy when he falls asleep on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner.”
His hand rested on my back as he guided me to an open door in one of the SUVs. “Have you read your high school disciplinary record?”
“No. That’s your job,” I grinned at him as I climbed in and slid to the end, grabbing the buckle.
“Yeah,” Mr. Stark’s eyes widened at the thought as he got in his seat beside me. “And your poor Aunt May’s.”
“Well, she knows about the whole… you know… Spidey thing, now, so it’s fine,” I said, shrugging. “I’m sure it explains a lot.”
Happy’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Wait until you can’t use that excuse this summer.”
My jaw fell only slightly as I let out a chuckle. “No, no—not an excuse. I won’t need it, anyway. No suit, no hero antics, no need for doing anything absolutely stupid.”
Happy’s eyes looked up again in the mirror as he stopped at the end of our driveway. “The suit isn’t what causes you to be stupid.”
And with another small, Pikachu gasp escaping my lips and laughter bellowing from Aunt May and the man beside me, the window rolled up slowly, separating him and May from myself, Morgan, and our dad for the rest of the ride to the city.
The car ride inbound was far more easy-going than the last long one we had heading outbound, on our way home from my grand, very belated ‘adoption party’, where this whole Bachelor thingy began. I was silent, overwhelmed, sort of regretting the amount of root beer that I had consumed.
I think, like, five glasses, maybe? Full glasses, too. Like the big ones, not the little scotch glasses. All five, sitting in my stomach over every pothole and rock we ran over.
“Come to think of it, Pete, I didn’t really see you much tonight. Was it the nerves? Too many people?”
I nodded assuringly. “Too many people. Definitely.”
He eyed me in suspicion and then let out a sigh. “Listen, Pete. Don’t let this whole… moving into a multi-billionaire’s million dollar lakeside New York mansion thing scare you into thinking you have to respect me any better.”
“I think,” I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him in confusion, “I think just saying that… does?”
“What I’m trying to say is now that I’m officially your father and you’re officially my son, that weird, politeness type of respect isn’t necessary anymore,” he went on, looking forward at the street as Happy drove their car back to their home. “If anything, you should respect me less.”
“I feel like this is a test,” I told him.
“It is and it isn’t,” he grinned to himself. “Just be a normal kid, alright? No more Mr. Starks, no more asking permission for every single little thing. Just ask permission sometimes, when it’s necessary. And don’t call me ‘dad’ while wearing your suit. That’s when you call me ‘Mr. Stark’. Got it?”
And that was it. I’ll be honest, the whole transition from “Mr. Stark” to “Dad” hasn’t exactly been easy, but I think I’ve got it down.
For the most part.
Happy took a sharp turn then, breaking my thoughts as we went off of our course to the airport. “Sorry,” he shouted from the front seat.
“Mr. Stark…?” I muttered, staring out the windows in confusion. I looked at him and he raised an eyebrow expectantly. I realized my mistake but refused to correct it, staring back at him with my own eyebrows raised expectantly as the SUV pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, film crews piling out of one of the vans ahead. “What’s going on?”
“Showtime—” was all he said, before jumping out of the vehicle and heading over to the makeup artists, who, of course, swarmed him.
It was going to be a long summer. And it was only April.
The beauty of college was that the summer typically began in May, anyway, and with some teeth-pulling trips home away from the hyperactive, crime-filled city, I was able to set aside blocks of time to get my work done early in an effort to finish my semester earlier than most. I must say—midterms and finals all within two weeks of each other were not exactly the highlight of my college career so far, but finishing the semester by the start of April in exchange for an extended summer was pretty worth it.
Apart from the makeup brushes that were suddenly advancing on my face.
“Wait—” I held up my hands in defense, waving the brushes away. “No, no—not me, not my thing. I’m fine with—you know,” I gestured toward my face, “this.”
“It’s for lighting,” one of the artists argued.
“And that,” I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, “is what editing is for. Tell Ms. Freeman I said that.”
Like clockwork, Nellie Freeman ran towards me, calling my name. “Peter!” She said, excitedly, “Go on over to your father. Share a laugh with him.”
Share a laugh?
I was guided over to where he was and before I knew it, cameras were pointed at us in all directions as Mr. Stark put an arm around me and looked at me to chat, pointing to me. “Are you ready?” He asked, charming smile flashing on his face.
“No,” I said, forcing a smile, trying hard not to look at the camera. “How long do I have to do this?”
“Entire summer,” his smile grew proud.
My face fell.
“Remember, this was all your idea,” he let out a laugh then, and it was apparently enough to satisfy the cameras.
Worst moment of my life.
So far.
As a small part of the crew followed me around the front of the mansion—which, I had inferred was for their introduction to the show, as they were filming numerous angles of the mansion itself, as well as our family by the gates out front, and even a small moment of Tony driving out of the garage in yet another hideously orange supercar—the sound of a small explosion a couple blocks over rumbled through the streets. Myself and the camera people with me, who happened to be closest to the noise, all turned in fear as cop cars zipped up the street towards whatever it was.
My heart pounded a bit as the adrenaline came through my body with my senses and I looked at the crew urgently, “You should probably go distract Iron Man before you lose camera time with him.”
They took my advice.
Barely a minute later, I was in my suit, swinging through the streets of New York City.
Standard bank robbery: getaway car at the corner of the block waiting in drive, hold up in the lobby of the bank, gunmen standing guard outside, and my favorite—two pyromaniacs blowing a hole in the alleyway wall to gain outside access to the vault.
Minutes later, the vault guys were webbed to the brick walls of the alley, the gunmen were knocked out and webbed up, the two guys holding up inside were webbed together in a nice, snug hug, and the getaway car was stopped mid movement by me mere seconds after I had webbed up its passengers to street lights in their escape.
A standard day in New York City for Spider-Man.
Man, I was going to miss it. Genuinely. It was a hobby as much as it was a passion and a responsibility. It had its perks, of course, but swinging through the city, stopping to fight whatever crime was impending, and then getting back into the air moments later just to return to whatever I was doing, or like in many cases, to the backpack I webbed up to a dumpster in an alleyway a block away from the mansion. I undressed from my suit as quickly as possible and got back in the clothes I was wearing before, stuffing the suit into my backpack—
Spider sense. Spider sense. Behind you, Peter—Peter. Peter. Peter.
I turned quickly to see an old bearded man standing at the end of the alleyway by the sidewalk, staring at me as I stuffed the spider suit into my backpack.
I felt my cheeks burning red as the man just watched. “It’s not what it looks like, I promise,” I smiled nervously. “I just found it in the dumpster. It’s probably—it’s probably not even real.”
The old man let out a chuckle, approaching me slowly. “It’s okay, Peter,” he said with a smile. “You don’t need to worry.”
I froze in that moment, movements halted as I registered the voice and the way it said my name—yes. My name.
My name?
“How did you…” I trailed off as the main presented a large pouch to me, reluctantly taking it from him. I stared at the pouch and then up to those old, tired, glistening eyes. “Are you one of the wizards?”
“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You might wanna grab a lab kit for that before you leave, by the way.”
And that was how my Breaking Bad career took off.
Kidding. Sort of. Hopefully. All that was in the bag from what I could tell was some old rusty gear and tech and a few pieces of paper to accompany the items. I looked up from the bag and back at the old man, who just watched with a pair of what seemed to be proud eyes.
I stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of the familiarity in his eyes. “Who are you?”
The man’s face fell slightly for a moment and he placed a hand on my shoulder, dipping his head down a bit as he blinked slowly, lips curling into a smile once again. “You’ll see.”
The sound of repulsors taking off echoed through the streets, followed by the sound of flight, and both myself and the old man turned in its direction, looking up to the sky as Iron Man appeared over the rooftop.
He hovered there for a moment, silence dripping between us for a split second, before he finally let out a confused, “Pete?”
I widened my eyes. “I can explain,” I started, stepping towards him, “You see, I was helping this nice gentleman over here and—”
He flew passed me to where the man was, but as I turned around with him, the old man was gone.
Tony landed in his place, stepping towards the sidewalk slowly and looking around. “It doesn’t make sense…”
Okay, Peter. Time to be honest. I took a deep breath, “Well, to be honest, there was an explosion up the block, and it turned out to be a huge bank robbery, so I kind of had to step in and—”
“I said no suit.” He stated bluntly, but he was still distracted by our surroundings.
“I know. It’s just—it’s hard,” I confessed. “I’m sorry.”
Tony was silent in response; he was evidently listening to Friday as opposed to me, focusing in on whatever it was they were examining in the alleyway. Moments passed in silence, before he finally let out a sigh, “Alright, let’s go. We have a flight to catch.”
He lifted me from the ground, returning us to our group at the mansion a couple blocks over, cameras and all. The obligatory clips of the Iron Man suit removing itself from Tony that ABC insisted on filming bought me enough time to sneak into the mansion and snag one of the lab kits we had set aside for missions. I was able to slip it into the SUV by the time Tony finished with his numerous close-ups with the film crew.
The remainder of our morning once we actually arrived at the airport was just that. Cameras, interviews, weird filmed moments where we all chatted about absolutely nothing in an effort to seem like we were actually engaging in real conversations—then pause, break, and we were back to loading Mr. Stark’s private jets.
Yes. Jets. As in plural.
Because we weren’t going to fly with the ABC people, right? They had to be there waiting for us upon our arrival anyway.
Eyeroll.
It was only about eleven in the morning by the time we took off, but it felt like the day had been going on for hours already. The jet we were on, which was Mr. Stark’s newest of his hybrid engine class, had quarters for him, myself, and Morgan in the back, which were separated by the full bathrooms in between. It wasn’t long before I had passed out on my bed, the shades closing on the windows to leave me in a nice, quiet slumber…
“Pete, wake up,” My father’s voice called from the door to the cabin. I stirred a bit, covering my head with my pillow. “Shower quickly and get out here, we’re landing soon.”
Soon? Already? How long had I been asleep?
I sprung out of bed, heading to the bathrooms to shower in the circular full shower, washing up as fast as I could, before I dressed in some warm weather clothes and headed out to the cabin, natural sunlight blinding me a bit before I could see outside the windows at the…
Islands? Surrounded by turquoise… lagoons?
How long had I been asleep?
My father walked over to me, looking out the window alongside me with a grin on his face. “Welcome to Bora Bora, Peter.”
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seasonofthewicth · 3 years
Text
A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 9
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AN: a slightly longer one today guys, got myself all emotional with the rowaelin here and i hope it gets you too
masterlist - ao3
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“He was friendly when he first came in,” Chaol’s normally subdued tone was full of energy as he spun his tale, eyes wide with excitement as he looked towards Aelin. “But then so quickly he goes completely crazy, shouting and ranting so loud in my face that Maeve has to come in and see what the problem is.”
Yrene laughed fondly at her husband as she rested a hand on his shoulder where she sat across the wooden staff room table from Aelin, “You could hear it all the way down the corridor.”
Aelin laughed as she took in Chaol’s wide eyed expression and Dorian’s restrained laughter, Yrene’s gentle grin and Nehemia’s cool smirk.
Her first parent-teacher conference at the new school was this evening, and to her absolute delight, her friends were busy spinning their horror stories. Admittedly, she was nervous for the event, and even though it wasn’t her first time it was always an unnerving experience at a new school. It was her opportunity to introduce herself to the parents as Miss Galathynius and show them who she was, what she had, and to prove to them that she was the best choice for their children.
Realistically, she knew she had no reason to be nervous, her class were a great group of children, they all tried hard and engaged enthusiastically with her lessons, but meeting their parents for the first time was important. Making her first impression as an educator was important, and she knew that people sometimes unfairly judged her. At her previous school she knew some of the parents had made some unfair and incorrect assumptions about her but she had tried not to let it bother her. Had tried to brush off their barely hidden insults about her styles of teaching and even her choices of clothing. She couldn’t change peoples’ opinions but she could try to change their lasting impressions of herself.
Dorian had assured her that the majority of the parents at the school were great, most were pretty chilled out as long as their child wasn’t falling too far behind, which Aelin knew hers weren’t. That said, it was Dorian who had prompted the story time session in the break room, wordlessly picking up on her nervousness and launching into every horror story he could remember from his years teaching.
Since their ill-fated affair he had cemented his place in her life as one of her closest friends, rivalling only Lysandra in level of familiarity and they had spent an increasing amount of time together. From coffee runs to lounging around the loft watching movies she enjoyed every moment they spent together and she was comfortable that there was no remaining awkwardness from their brief tangle.
She hadn’t told anyone the outcome of their date yet, she hadn’t had much time to catch up with Lysandra since, and it wasn’t something she was particularly keen to tell her roommates. As much as she loved them there were times that their typical guy nature made her hesitant to share, and her failure to sleep with her date was not something she felt like sharing with them.
She was especially reluctant to share that piece of information with Rowan, he had told her to forget about their moment in the kitchen, and she had tried. It just hadn’t worked out quite as she had planned. But she was resolved, she would get over him, and if having him think she was dating Dorian told him she was, she wasn’t complaining.
“It took five minutes for us to even figure out what he was yelling about.” Chaol continued, flashing her an exasperated look.
“Which was?” Aelin asked, already grinning in anticipation of whatever ridiculous answer Chaol could give.
In her experience Chaol was a by-the-book teacher. She liked him, he was pretty smart, straightforward and an involved and ambitious teacher, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything deserving of being shouted at by a parent.
“Chaol had, completely unreasonably,” Dorian drawled sarcastically, tossing his unstarted apple between his palms, “decided to offer his students a quiz for the last class of the week instead of one more hour of curriculum teaching.”
Yrene sketched a mocking gasp and Nehemia held a hand to her chest as she rolled her eyes at the story.
“Could you imagine such a thing?” She laughed, eyes dancing with mirth as she grinned over to Aelin.
Aelin shook her head in mock horror at Chaol, unable to fully hide her smile as she laughed along.
“How could you?” She asked, half laughing at the absurdity of the parent’s rage and half at Chaol’s over the top attempt at a dejected expression. “You aren’t actually making me feel any better about later, by the way.”
Yrene reached over to squeeze her shoulder, “You don’t need us to do that, they will all love you I’m sure.”
Aelin needed more of Yrene’s optimism in her life and admittedly the woman’s kind smile was infectious. She was also right, why wouldn’t they love her?
------
The documentary on the television hadn’t fully captured Rowan’s attention, it was something about an animal in the rainforest and he had missed the part where it’s name was given, but it would do for a lazy afternoon while the rest of his roommates were at work. The afternoons were one of his favourite times of the day, he had the loft to himself to read or watch or listen to whatever he wanted in the usually shared spaces rather than his ordinarily messy and somewhat cramped bedroom.
Being the only one of his roommates to not work in the daytimes had its ups and downs, the freedom and space was a definite pro, but sometimes it could be lonely sitting around the loft on his own, and the days Lorcan was off with him after working a shift were often ones he enjoyed the most. His friend had a sarcastic and wicked sense of humour that worked well with Rowan’s relatively blunt demeanor. He’d never tell him that though.
Of everyone in the loft he had known Lorcan for the shortest amount of time. Technically, but he didn’t count the years of Aelin being in his periphery as knowing her. They had met through Fenrys, and Rowan wasn’t convinced that even Fenrys knew how he had come to be friends with the surly male, their personalities weren’t ones Rowan would have expected to be friends, but years later Lorcan had managed to cement himself as one of Rowan’s closest friends.
He checked the time on his phone as the sound of the loft front door caught his attention, none of his roommates should be at the loft at this time.
Seconds later Aedion came into view, already shucking off his tie before launching himself onto the couch next to Rowan with a deep sigh. Rowan slowly turned his head towards his best friend, waiting for him to reopen his eyes before raising his eyebrows.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” He began. “But why are you here?”
Aedion laughed before rolling forwards to sit upright on the sofa.
“Turned in the final piece for one of our biggest accounts this morning so we all got the afternoon off.”
“Nice,” Rowan nodded, Aedion probably worked the hardest of all of them in the loft. He worked for a marketing firm that had a bunch of high profile clients and he spent many nights in the office working overtime. Rowan shared those unpopular hours, but was grateful he didn’t have the early mornings too. “What are you doing for the rest of the day then?”
Aedion shrugged. “Thought I could spend some quality time with you my friend. Maybe find out what you wanted to talk to me about the other day.”
Aedion’s smirk was predatory, and Rowan felt like a deer in the headlights. He opened his mouth then closed it again.
He had been more than lucky to have gotten away with it for so long, he was surprised Aedion had managed the few days of Rowan saying nothing before giving in and straight up asking.
Since Aelin’s date with Dorian the man’s presence had become a regular feature of the loft, each visit reducing Rowan’s desire to admit any of his feelings about Aelin to anyone, let alone Aelin herself. He had tried to avoid being in the room when they were snuggling on the couch or had quickly changed the topic when he had come up in conversation.
Message received. He was at least glad that Aelin seemed happy, and it was his own fault that it wasn’t with him. He had told her to forget it ever happened and she had. Why Aedion wanted to make him talk about it now was anyone’s guess, he just wanted to deal with it alone. Preferably by not thinking about it, or at least trying not to.
“Oh nothing,” He brushed it off. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Aedion raised a golden eyebrow, unimpressed with Rowan’s clear denial and he winced internally. He should have known better than to assume Aedion would have been satisfied with that.
“Are you sure?” Aedion’s question was all too innocent. “You sure it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”
Rowan gritted his teeth, knowing he was just going to have to let this play out.
Aedion took a moment, pretending to ponder his next words and letting Rowan stew in his anticipation. “Not even my darling cousin?”
Rowan felt his cheeks begin to burn as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Aedion was a smug son of a bitch, smiling at Rowan like a cat who got the cream.
Rowan took a deep breath in. “Don’t fucking tell anyone, okay.”
Aedion’s expression dropped into something slightly more serious.
“Pinky swear,” Aedion grinned at him and Rowan flashed him a glare.
“I’m definitely not saying anything if you’re not being serious.”
Aedion cleared his throat, making a show of sobering his expression. “I’m serious, okay, now go.”
“So you clearly know something went down between me and Aelin,” That was as good a place to start as any he supposed. “How did you even find out about that?”
“Lysandra.” Aedion’s voice was almost dopey as he said the woman’s name. Gross, even though he was happy for his friend it was gross.
“Nice to know you and your girlfriend have nothing better to do than gossip about me.” Rowan frowned.
“Believe me, we have better things to do,” Aedion’s grin took over his whole face. “It’s just when we’re done we move on to pitying you…”
“I said be serious.” Rowan said bluntly, embarrassed enough as it was.
“Sorry, sorry.” Aedion held his hands up. “Continue.”
“There isn’t much more to be said.” He paused, realising the almost uncomfortable truth in his own words. “She’s moved past it anyway, like I told her too, so that’s it. We’re good, no danger of that.”
The look Aedion gave him was pure pity and Rowan looked away fast.
“Ro,” His friend’s voice was soft as he said his name, but he struggled for anything more, clearly reading Rowan better than he ever wanted to be read.
Rowan shrugged. “It’s fine, we’re all good.”
Aedion opened his mouth to speak but Rowan interrupted before he could get a word out.
“You need to tell her about you and Lysandra.” He could only see the secret ending in disaster, and now he was involved. He owed it to Aedion to keep the secret, but the guilt of keeping it from Aelin was eating away at him.
Aedion sighed, “I know. We will, soon. It’s just, when? You know?”
“You need to do it soon.” Rowan told him, feeling somewhat like a parent scolding a child. “You’re only going to upset her, and keeping it all a secret longer is just going to make it worse.”
Aedion looked down to the couch they sat on, avoiding Rowan’s eyes.
“I know.” He sighed.
“I don’t want her to get hurt.” It was as much as Rowan was willing to admit out loud.
“I don’t either.” Aedion’s tone was defensive and Rowan sighed.
“Now,” He began, pushing off the couch and standing above his friend. “I have a shift at the bar, you coming?”
Aedion half-smiled up at him. “Alright, but I’m not paying for any of my drinks.”
Rowan scoffed, “When do you ever?”
Aedion rose to his feet, shrugging, “Just making sure.”
Rowan rolled his eyes, feeling as Aedion always made him feel, relaxed and amused with the usual hint of mild irritation.
------
The evening had passed relatively quickly, all of the parents she had met so far had been lovely and were well engaged in their children’s lives and education which Aelin always appreciated. She only had one parent left to meet, the father of her student Evangeline, a bubbly young girl who Aelin adored. The young girl was inquisitive and tried hard with anything Aelin threw at them, a perfect student in Aelin’s eyes.
A knock on her classroom door sounded and she jumped to her feet, calling out for them to come in as she rose. The man who came through her doorway was striking, his golden hair shone and his green eyes were bright. He was dressed in a sharp grey suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie was missing.
He held a hand out for her to shake and she caught a brief glance of a tattoo on his wrist, one that looked almost like a snake, peeking past his expensive looking watch.
“Archer Finn,” His voice was low and smooth, as he flashed her a polished smile.
“Aelin Galathynius,” She shook his hand firmly and smiled widely. “Please, take a seat.”
The man slid smoothly into the seat opposite her, and she forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, and reminded herself that this was one of her student’s fathers. No sign of a ring, her unhelpful mind added.
“Thank you, Miss Galathynius,” He folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you about Evangeline’s progress.”
Aelin grinned. “As have I, Evangeline is a fantastic student, the passion she displays in the classroom is phenomenal. Her artwork-- she displays a level of true talent.”
“Yes,” His tone was clipped. “That is what I have been hoping to talk to you about.”
Aelin felt her smile freeze.
“Evangeline will not be participating in any art activities from this point onwards, I don’t believe they are of any value. To put it bluntly, they’re a complete waste of time.”
Aelin was frozen, paused in a state of shock at the man’s words.
“I unfortunately have to disagree--”
He held a hand up to stop her and she recoiled.
“Please, Miss Galathynius,” He huffed out a condescending laugh and Aelin felt her blood begin to boil. “As her father I believe I know what is best for Evangeline.”
“And what is that?” She asked dryly.
Archer Finn seemed to take a moment, raking his eyes from her head to her toe before meeting her gaze again. She could tell the look hadn’t been one of appreciation and she bristled.
“What Evangeline needs is a teacher who takes her education seriously, someone who understands that painting her pretty pictures is a waste of time.” The sarcasm in his voice had her clenching her jaw, but she tried to rein in her temper, remembering that she was still new to the school.
“Mr Finn, I--”
He held a hand to her face again and stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, and Aelin slowly rose out of her chair.
“Mr Finn, I have a masters degree in children’s education, I know the value of creativity in learning.” Aelin could hardly keep her voice steady as she spoke, barely concealing the anger the man in front of her had managed to unleash inside her in such a short space of time.
The man seemed to sneer at her words, looking down his nose at her as he frowned.
“You may well have, and I’m sure it was worth every penny to you.” He smirked at her, crushing her with only a handful of words. “Either way, Evangeline will be seeing a private tutor during your creative hours.”
The scorn in his voice burned her, hitting her in a deep part of her soul that wasn’t often exposed. She knew she was right, knew that she knew what Evangeline needed, knew that her methods of teaching had merit and worth. This sad excuse for a father was blind and arrogant if he thought he knew better than Aelin, but she was trapped. What more could she say to change his mind?
In her silence he had crossed the room to pause by the door before turning back to look at her where she stood dumbfounded behind her desk, clenching her fists at her sides and trying to compose herself.
“I’m glad we had this chat, Miss Galathynius.” With that he was gone, taking his smug and condescending atmosphere with him.
Her breath rushed out of her in a gust, burning her throat as she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t believe him, Mr Finn. The audacity he had to walk into her classroom and speak to her like that.
She dropped back into her seat, resting both of her hands against the cool wood of her desk and focussing on all the knots and whorls in the wood, breathing deeply in and out as she centred her thoughts. She almost couldn’t believe how her evening had ended up and she let out a brief snort at the idea that maybe her story could now beat Chaol’s from this morning.
A knock at her door snapped her to attention, if Mr Finn had come back for another go at her she wouldn’t be able to bite her tongue this time. Her fears were sedated when a familiar head of dark curls poked around the door frame.
Dorian’s smile was bright and easy as he walked towards her, perching on the front of one of her student's desks.
“So?” He asked as he crossed his ankles in front of himself, the portrait of a male completely at ease.
Aelin only shook her head, unable to sum up her final visit in a few words.
“Have you ever taught Evangeline Finn?” She managed, hating how destroyed she sounded even to her own ears.
Dorian barely managed to cover his wince.
“Ah,” He sighed. “You met Archer Finn. How bad was it?”
She looked at the floor, holding back the flood that wanted to break through, she refused to cry in school over a parent, no matter how much he had riled her up.
“Bad,” She managed but her voice betrayed her, letting a crack rip through the word.
Dorian was around the desk and at her side within a second, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“What did he say?” Dorian asked, his tone gentle as if not to startle her.
Aelin sniffed. “Oh you know, the usual, dismissing my teaching and belittling my degree.”
She let out a self-deprecating laugh as she looked to Dorian whose brow creased at her words.
“Don’t listen to him. You know he’s not right.” She knew his words were earnest, but they couldn’t keep the doubt at bay and she shrugged out of his hold.
“I don’t know,” She looked away.
“Come on,” Dorian tried. “Let’s get a drink or something, take your mind off it.”
“Thanks, Dorian. But I think I just want to go home and be alone.”
Dorian’s mouth twisted as he considered it, probably weighing up whether or not to try again. Eventually he relented.
“Text me if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”
She lightly squeezed his hand before rising to pack up her things. His offer hadn’t tempted her, she did want to be alone, but maybe a drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
------
The bar was relatively busy, a few customers every so often had him drifting in and out of conversation with Aedion. Lorcan had joined Aedion at the bar not long after they arrived, grumbling about something or other that Rowan soon avoided, turning back to another customer after dropping off Lorcan’s pint.
A brief lull allowed him to drift back to his friends, wiping down a few spills along the bar as he went.
“It’s the fucking worst, all right.” The dark-haired giant complained, words muffled by the strong hand he ran down his face.
Rowan turned to Aedion for explanation who merely shrugged before lifting his empty glass to Rowan. He grabbed it and turned to refill it as Lorcan spoke again.
“I didn’t sign up for any of this, stupid regulations and reforms.”
Lorcan was clearly in a talking mood tonight. Rowan met Aedion’s eyes, a silent challenge, begging the blond man to speak first but Aedion just leaned back in his seat, taking a large gulp of his beer. Rowan flicked him the middle finger before turning to Lorcan.
“What is?”
Lorcan turned the force of his glare to Rowan who shifted against the unexpected heat.
“My stupid boss.”
“What about them?” Aedion finally joined in.
Lorcan sighed, a frustrated sound as if explaining it would be hard work. Rowan grinned a sharp flash of teeth at Aedion who rolled his eyes at their friend’s dramatics.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to drink.” Lorcan finished his drink in a final swig, placing the glass before Rowan ceremoniously.
Rowan scooped it up, sketching a mocking salute at his friend. “That, we can do.”
As he turned he spotted Fenrys making his way over from the door and he grabbed another glass to fill as the golden-haired man took his seat. He dumped the drinks in front of his friends with little finesse as Fenrys spoke.
“Why is Aelin sitting in the corner on her own?”
Aelin?
“Aelin’s here?” Aedion asked as the four of them turned to look where Fenrys had pointed.
Sure enough, Aelin was tucked away in a booth in the corner of the room. He hadn’t noticed her come in and Rowan could see the glum expression on her face even from a distance.
“Is she okay?” He managed.
“She doesn’t look okay.”
The three of them swivelled to look at Lorcan, matching looks of disbelief across each of their faces.
“Has she said anything to any of you?” Fenrys asked. “Anything to Lysandra?” With a look to Aedion who shook his head.
“Should we go over?” Aedion asked, an unsure twist to his mouth.
“If she wanted to sit with us she’d be here.” Lorcan said bluntly.
“Shut up, asshole.” Rowan narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take her a drink.”
-------
The glass of wine was cool in his hand as he made his way across the bar, skirting round tables of customers as he went.
“Hey,” His voice was soft as he reached Aelin’s booth, lingering by the edge of the table as she looked up at him.
His heart jolted at the expression she wore. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her plush pink lips twisted into a pout. She swallowed before speaking and the hurt in her voice tore his heart again.
“Oh. Didn’t think you’d notice me here.” Her voice was quiet as he dropped into the seat opposite her and pushed the glass towards her.
“It’s kind of my job to notice who needs a drink,” He said equally quietly, leaning forwards and pressing his arms against the table between them. He had hoped his words would bring a smile but Aelin pursed her lips, debating, before reaching towards the glass and taking a sip.
At least there was that.
“You don’t-- I mean, you don’t have to answer... If you don’t want to, but,” He didn’t usually stumble over his words so much. “Are you okay?”
Aelin’s refusal to meet his eyes pretty much answered his question, but he still waited for her to speak.
She blew out a breath, the air teasing the fair strands of hair around her face as she looked towards the ceiling then back down to him.
“Not really.” She said as she looked away from him again.
He spared a glance over to the bar where his friends sat, watching him and Aelin, each with expressions of concern. Even Lorcan for all his grumbling before Rowan came over.
“What happened?” He asked as gently as he could.
Aelin took a sip of her wine, glancing around the bar and spotting their friends who quickly jumped back into their own conversation before resting her gaze back on him.
She shrugged, putting her glass back on the table before speaking.
“One of my student’s parents basically told me I’m a shit teacher today.”
“Aelin no,” The words left him in a rush, utterly raw in his desperation to reassure her. “Aelin, you have to know you’re not a shit teacher.”
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her pout still standing strong.
“What did they say?”
“Just that my degree is worthless and that I don’t know what’s best for the kids.”
Asshole. Fucking asshole.
If he ever saw the asshole who had said those cruel words to Aelin he’d-- He didn’t know what he’d do but it would hurt.
“Aelin, don’t listen to them. That’s not true.”
“It’s not?” Her question, in combination with her soft sniffle shattered him.
He reached out to lightly grasp one of her hands in his, gently toying with her delicate fingers.
“Of course not Aelin. You’re an incredible teacher.”
She drew her hand back to take another sip of her wine.
“How would you know?” She asked. “You’ve never seen me teach.”
“I don’t need to Aelin. I know you, and you’re everything a good teacher should be. Kind, caring, patient, passionate-”
“Okay,” She interrupted.
“I’m serious Aelin, promise me you won’t believe a word that asshole said.”
She scoffed, looking away from him yet again.
“Aelin?”
“Okay, I promise.” Her tone was resigned, but at least she had agreed. He didn’t know how much help he had managed to be, but he hoped at least a small part of her had listened.
“What are you doing sitting alone anyway? You can always come to us with things like this.” He knew without a doubt that the others would agree.
She brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and Rowan’s fingers itched to follow the motion but he held his hands together, now under the table. She shrugged as a faint blush crossed her cheeks and Rowan fought the warmth blooming inside him at the sight.
“Come and drink with us.” He said, nodding his head towards where the others were sitting at the bar. “Salvaterre’s miserable too so you won’t be alone.”
At that, Aelin’s lips twitched as the hint of a smile ghosted across her face, it was the closest he had seen all night and he’d take it.
“Why?” Her voice was quiet.
“Other than the usual?” He joked and she finally cracked a real smile, small but still there, and the relief that flooded through him was like lightning. “I think it’s something about his work or his boss, I don’t really know.”
He slid himself out of the booth and held a hand out to her, his final request, if she really didn’t want to join them he could accept that, but he knew he’d still keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.
Thankfully she stood, grabbing her things and leading the way over to their friends, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. Over her head he saw Aedion flash him a thankful smile. She flopped onto a stool next to Fenrys as Rowan slid back behind the bar.
“So,” She turned to Lorcan, barely missing a beat. “What are you crying about now?”
Lorcan didn’t hesitate before lunging into his story, his own subtle way of making sure Aelin was alright and not dwelling on her issues.
“My new boss is an asshole. Turns up in Rifthold fresh out of headquarters in somewhere called Perranth, and thinks everyone should just bow down or something. Now, first of all, I’ve never even heard of Perranth,” He paused to take a bitter swig of his beer.
“Me neither,” Fenrys chimed in.
“It’s in Terrasen,” Aelin said after a sip of her own wine. The heaviness from before didn’t weigh on her face anymore and Rowan turned to serve another customer, hiding his smile. “I think I went once when I was a kid.”
Lorcan frowned at her but Rowan could tell it lacked it’s usual heat.
“Whatever,” Lorcan continued. “The point is, I’ve worked here for years, I know Rifthold and how things are done. Captain Lochan has been here all of five minutes and apparently knows all the improvements we need to make.”
The curl of Lorcan’s lips as he hissed his boss’ name prompted a small laugh, the guy must be a total hardass to have Lorcan so riled.
“What’s wrong with the improvements?” Aelin asked and Lorcan sighed.
“Nothing is wrong with the improvements,” He muttered and Aelin finally laughed, the tinkling sound washing over Rowan and settling into his bones.
“So what’s the problem?” Aedion asked after a moment, the question that they were all thinking and Lorcan shot him a glare, this time not lacking any heat.
“The problem is the Captain. So controlling and everything has to be done in exactly their way, constantly on me about my reports as well.” He rolled his eyes, clearly over talking about his boss and Rowan couldn't help from poking the bear one last time.
“Why don’t you invite the Captain here? I don’t know any problem a free beer couldn’t solve.”
“Absolutely not.” Lorcan said, shaking his head.
“Well I, for one, want to meet the famous Captain Lochan.” Fenrys grinned. “Especially if it would annoy you so much.”
“Don’t.” Lorcan said, a hair’s width below a growl.
“Why not?” Aedion joined in and Rowan watched the smile settling on Aelin’s lips at their friends’ antics.
He shook himself, laughing along as Lorcan slugged Aedion in the shoulder.
“Maybe find something to take your mind off it?” Fenrys suggested and Rowan knew where he was going would be fun. “Get a pet or something?”
“Just watch me, boyo.” Lorcan bared his teeth around the grin threatening to take over his own face. His pretend displeasure only just winning the battle.
The smile on Aelin’s face struck him again in its beauty, and he forced his attention away from her and back to the idiots now suggesting outlandish animals Lorcan could bring home as a pet.
He bit his lip as Aelin suggested a lion in response to Aedion’s tiger and thanked the gods again that she was smiling.
------
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108 notes · View notes
indigosprite · 3 years
Text
Hibari Headcanons
that nobody asked for
Tumblr media
He likes small animals but not your usual small animals. (The way he kicked uri out in the future instead of letting the cat stay 😭) I.e he’d pick a sugar glider over a guinea pig
He hates crowds because he still hates the fact that when he was still learning to be sociable kids had the power of alienating him. He despises that group mindset that children had. In kindergarten some kids invited him to play then told him to get lost and nobody stood up for him. He has one intrusive thought and it’s that feeling. He genuinely hates crowds because it feels like an opportunity for people to get to decide who isn’t welcomed. He lowkey doesn’t want to witness that moment to happen to anyone else.
His overthinking only stops when he’s alone so he genuinely does prefer it. He doesn’t mind one or two people in an intimate setting but when it’s more he wants to disconnect.
He’s all about repaying debts quickly I think he takes this on an emotional level too so he feels if you get too close or kind he has to return that by being transparent as well and he knows he’s bad at it so he just stops you altogether by not letting you even create that environment around him. I.e in the future he’s fine in the hospital room then more people come and he warns Tsuna then beats his ass because it was getting too emotional seeing ppl visit chrome when he just wanted to check on her from afar and not hear everyone’s emotions.
He takes pictures of random things , like a leaf with water droplets, clouds from Nami middles roof , his sneakers when he’s walking. They’re not amazing but he just always does it and never shares. It’s kind of grunge but unintentionally.
He has a knack for throw blankets. He has one in every room they’re mostly black white or purple no designs except for the ones from his grandparents.
If you have ever watched Saiki k I think he has the exact same relationship with his parents. If you haven’t : he’s serious and reserved and willingly antisocial but not because of trauma and his parents are so normal and caring it’s funny in contrast. But they’re a tad bit more refined than saikis.
He was partly raised by his grandparents when he was much younger and that’s why he really loves tradition and order while his parents are hardly as strict.
His grandfather was probably a vet who joined solely to protect Namimori . Hibari has that same love for the town because of him but like his grandfather he’s in no way patriotic. They both just love this town He thinks of his grandfather when he thinks of Namimori and because he is gone now he latches on to the town even more.
His grandfather is Fon. Hear me out. Fon could have been around 40 when he was cursed , could’ve had a son young (18) but it was fine because he was a very well respected champion. The Hibaris had money and as long as he was a positive image in his career field they wouldn’t mind what he did although their lineage is that of leaders and scholars. He stopped for a bit to go into the army and when he came back he stumbles upon the mafia . His son grows up to also have a kid young Fon and his wife watch after Hibari until he’s around 7 while his son and daughter in law work extremely hard to get established in their career paths. They come back and one day Fon just vanished bc he’s cursed and hibaris dad knows he was in the mafia so he just doesn’t dwell on what might have happened but doesn’t share because he didn’t want to pain him as a bad guy to his son but they’re all pretty upset about it.
Fon taught hibari how to fight , that’s why he has his grandfathers disposition and tenacity although it’s a tad immature in comparison. Fon tells him his style will be what he picks and hibari randomly picks tonfas as his weapon. Fon has it in his house because although he uses no weapons he’s fond of their history. Fon gets him a pair of silver ones.
He’s not the brightest, he’s not as terrible as Tsuna and Yamamoto but he’s average academically. He’s not interested in excelling academically and getting a painfully respectable job like doctor lawyer or something in business. And I think his air of nonchalant attitude can only come from a trust fund kid who’s parents don’t expect them to be their carbon copy.
He literally gets himself held back just to stick around a middle school he likes and nobody objects or is worried about his future. It’s definitely secured.
He really doesn’t care about the disciplinary committee members because he didn’t mean to form it. Students have a love hate relationship with him. He was just some scary strong guy who happened to beat up the right people who were pests and they thought he did it for the good of everyone. But they realized too late that it’s really just who irritates him and that sometimes coincides with their best interest so they let it be because he’s a comforting and unsettling presence to have. Like even Tsuna acknowledges this despite being terrified of him most the time he’s always like “wait Hibari will handle it”
He likes that he has disciples because it’s a crowd he’s apart of and is the center of but doesn’t have to be too close and nobody can kick him out or make him feel unwanted.
His parents actually like that he’s respected (oblivious to the fear) as the leader of this club around town because their family is known for strong leadership and he’s applied it to what he wanted.
He likes hamburger steak because when his parents came back his mom liked to test American recipes once she moved back to Japan. This was the only one he really liked enough to ask for again
He can’t cook. At all. Hopeless. Would burn water.
He would kill you for a well made dessert. They put him in a good mood but he’s a weirdo that doesn’t like rewarding himself so it has to be a gift or offered.
He actually likes band t shirts ripped jeans boots and all of that but hardly wears it out because he finds he likes being in his uniform more.
He’s a good boxer because everyone seems to forget he won a BOXING match for royhei. Hello he couldn’t use tonfas he actually had to punch ppl. Yeah he’s strong but that’s a style of fighting he definitely learned from Fon.
He jogs on a private trail around his families property, sometimes his father joins him.
His parents know him really well. He’s not a difficult kid to them. they’re the only ones he answers to but even then they raised him to be independent so they’re not that authoritative over him.
He has a hard time listening to them because he thinks they leave him to govern himself too much and shouldn’t only get a say sometimes.
They feel bad about leaving him to his grandparents for so long but his mother says she’ll never regret making sure their lives were better for him.
They have a good relationship give or take a few problems stemming from their separation from him.
He can draw really well. I don’t know why. But he just does. He does it often on random papers his only collection being a small box his mother keeps of them. He hates when she saves them.
He’s the baby of his entire family but his father is on the higher end of his family and same with his mother for hers so everyone is always asking to see him but he refuses to leave Namimori for longer than a day or two.
He has a sister. Idk. I just feel he has a sibling that’s either way older or a toddler that spends time on trips with their mother because she doesn’t have school yet.
He watches horror movies with his parents a lot. But they have to be psychological thrillers and he always has to fight his dad with his mom on what everything meant.
He’s spoiled. He’s nonchalant about everything but when it comes down to it he is a trust fund baby who would have been sent to a nice private high school abroad.
He has been arrested but his father being his father makes an arrangement with the police force in Nami where he’s just his own independent junior division. It would explain why the people in his committee look significantly older than him sometimes😭.
Tetsyua has always been the only member who’s name he learned because he doesn’t disappoint him. He is to him what Shoichi was to Byakuran , competent in other areas and capable of surprising him. And he never made Hibari feel like he had to say anything to him for that hibari considers him to be a good friend.
Tetsu and Ryohei are the only people he finds familiar and respectable enough to converse with like a normal fucking teenager 😭.
Royhei is loud but he doesn’t mind him because the boy is ALWAYS alone training. And like him he doesn’t backdown from a fight , also he causes no trouble at school.
He hangs out with him more than you’d think but he never initiates it or stops it.
Hibari lets Royhei use his private trail to jog sometimes. His parents know the sasagawa kids well because of this, they get invited to dinner a lot.
He likes kyoko better because she’s like a quieter Royhei but just as kind and determined. He tries to be nice to her by greeting her from them to time but stops because she popular and it draws attention and annoying rumors.
She says he really hates crowds and understands how nosy people in their grade are and says it’s okay if he doesn’t wave back sometimes. She assumes he’s actually extremely shy and misunderstood. (Sis he’s just a delinquent)
It’s platonic but he actually fond of her and is nice to her and they text from time to time. She’s the only one who knows to give him sweets because they talk about them.
He tries to get revenge on Mukuro for making him associate something he actually liked enough to go view (Sakura) with humiliation and anger that he tries to return the favor. The bastard loves nothing that much so he’s still thinking.
His parents think some girl broke up with him at a Sakura filled place and that’s why he suddenly hates it. He won’t explain they’re wrong because it’s better than the real story.
He’s a history buff , but a world history buff not just Japan.
He has an admirable garden that he tends to and sells half the vegetables his chef only cooks for three and doesn’t need that many.
He likes the snow he thinks it’s calming when everyone stays home in their house while outside is cold and harsh but pretty. He makes his parents special hot chocolate on days like that. They let him drink hot wine sometimes but only a sip or two.
He’s bilingual because his parents taught him Italian when he was younger after they had come back. They also taught him a little English.
He watches a lot of American media and listens to their music as well.
On his birthday he never goes out because it’s a holiday and more people are out than usual so his family has a dinner for him and get him gifts.
His mother gives more thoughtful gifts that he appreciates later while his father indulges him and gets him stuff like a popular manga series or a meeting to upgrade his tonfas again or clothing he really likes.
39 notes · View notes
newstanmarshblog · 3 years
Text
The Average and Unusual Couple: Chapter Eleven
   It’s halloween at South Park, and while everyone in town was talking about trick & treaters and the upcoming party being held at the South Park community center, Stan was thinking about something else. In his mind, today is more than just an ordinary halloween, he plans on doing something huge that could live on as the biggest halloween night he’ll ever remember. Stan is going to confess his true feelings for his newly love interest: Lydia Deetz. He’s been holding on keeping his real feelings for Lydia ever since shortly after they first met each other, but today is the right day to finally let it all out. He’ll get to say to Lydia that he loves her on her most favorite night of the year. However before he makes his love confession to her, Stan wants to give Lydia the greatest halloween night that she’ll ever have.
   It’s just before dark as Stan and his mother have arrived at the Deetzes house. Dressing up as Indiana Jones, Stan was also holding some dead roses and a small bat plush doll for Lydia. So far, only his mother knows about on what he plans to do tonight because he feels that his mother is the only trust worthy person in keeping his confessing plans a secret. He feels that if he were to tell his friends about his big plan for halloween night, they wouldn’t keep quiet about it that could’ve caused for Lydia to hear about it.
   Sharon: How are you feeling, Stanley?
   Stan: Nervous, but I’m still fully ready to tell Lydia about my feelings for her.
   Sharon: I remember back when your father first said that he loves me, and while he was nervous about it, he still put on a confident look towards me when he said, “I love you.” And I know that you can do it, sweetheart. I believe in you. *smiles*
   Stan: Thanks, mom. I don’t know how she’s gonna react when I confess my love for her even though I can tell that she cares about me just as much as I do for her.
   Sharon: Judging on the way how you two have been spending a lot of time together, I bet she’ll be very happy to hear your feelings for her.
   They both get out of the car, and then walk towards the front door. Sharon rings the doorbell, and opening the door was Charles dressing up as Babe Ruth.
   Charles: Hello, you two! Happy halloween!
   Sharon: Hi, Charles. Nice Yankees outfit you got on ya.
   Charles: Why, thank you. I’m wearing my full Babe Ruth uniform as the way he would’ve wore them during his career. Growing up from New York, the Yankees has been my most favorite sport team ever, and I still love them to this very day.
   Stan: Is Lydia ready yet?
   Charles: She will be in just a minute. In the meantime, come on in.
   Both Stan and his mother come in the house, and take their seat on the couch. Delia comes out from the kitchen holding a huge bowl of popcorn for she, her husband, and Sharon will be watching Hocus Pocus while Stan and Lydia are at the halloween party.
   Delia: Happy halloween, you two! And great Indiana Jones costume you got there, Stan.
   Stan: Thanks, Mrs: Deetz. Indiana Jones has been one of my action heroes ever since I was five, and this is my first time dressing up as him.
   Delia: And what about your husband, Sharon? I thought he was gonna join us for halloween night.
   Sharon: I told him about it, but he’s more focus on selling his Tegridy Farms Halloween Special part 2 products. And believe me, it’s really hard to pull him out from his weed obsession on any day, especially on any holiday.
   Charles: *calling to Lydia from downstairs* Pumpkin, your best friend is here!
   Lydia: *replying back from her bedroom* Thanks, father! I’m just about ready! Coming down right now!
   As Lydia makes her way walking down on the stairs, Stan was checking out the outfit that she was wearing, and she looked very gorgeous to him. The black robe, the vampire like cape, the gothic purple sash tied around her waist, the ruby gemstone that’s placed just above her chest, spiked raven hair, a headband with a skull on it, and her usual beautiful face makeup. She was so stunning, and Stan reacted with an awe look on his face while making a little blush.
   Stan smiling: My god, Lydia. You truly had let out your full spooky beauty today. I love it very much!
   Lydia smiling: Thank you, Stan. This is my witch outfit, and I made it all by myself.
   Stan: Really now?
   Lydia: Yep. I’ve been making my own halloween costumes every year since I was ten. 
   Stan: You’ve done an incredible job with it. You might be a huge standout when we get to the party.
   Lydia: *laughs* Who knows, but we’ll see. And you look quite a standout yourself too, Dr. Jones.
   Stan: *laughs* Thanks. I’ve been wanting to dress up as Indiana Jones for some years now, and I finally got the opportunity last summer when I saw this leather jacket and this fedora for a good deal online from Goodwill. Oh, and these are for you. Happy halloween!
   He hands over the dead roses and bat plush doll to Lydia.
   Lydia: Aww, Stan. You shouldn’t have.
   Stan: You’ve done a lot for me for the past couple weeks that I’m very grateful for all of them. And since you were the first to give me presents, it’s now my turn to give you some gifts as well. So, why not do it on your most favorite day of the year.
   Lydia happy: I can’t wait to display these roses in my room, and I also love the cute little bat too. Thanks.
   Sharon: Would you two like a picture together before you head off to your party?
   Stan: Sure!
   Lydia: I’ll grab my camera from my bedroom. Just give me a moment.
   After running back upstairs to grab her camera and then coming back down, Lydia hands over her camera to Delia since she’s the only other person that knows how to use it. Stan and Lydia set themselves by standing next together with the dinner table behind them, and Delia keeps herself in a good distance in order to get the perfect picture of them both.
   Delia: Smile, and say happy halloween!
   Lydia: Ooh, mother. I love halloween, but I don’t wanna be corny about it.
   Delia: *sigh* Whatever. Just make a good smile then.
   Stan and Lydia make their smile, and Delia snaps a picture of the halloween couple. Afterwards, Lydia takes a look at the picture on her camera, and it came out just the way that she and Stan hoped for.
   Lydia: It looks wonderful, mother. I can’t wait to get this picture in frame.
   Delia: Me too. You two look so adorable together.
   Sharon: Just seeing you two together like that not only warms my heart, but I also feel very proud by it too. You’re growling up so fast for me, Stanley.
   Stan: Time sometime does go by pretty fast, that’s for sure.
   Lydia: Ready to go, Stan?
   Stan: Right beside you all the way.
   Charles: Have fun at the party, you two. And remember to be back here by 10:00.
   Lydia: We’ll give you guys a call when we leave.
   Stan: And I hope you all enjoy your movie night together.
   Sharon: We definitely will. I haven’t seen Hocus Pocus ever since my college years, and I’m pretty excited to see how it holds up.
   Stan: See you guys later, and have a great halloween night.
   Delia: You too. Enjoy your party!
   As Stan and Lydia leave the house and start to make their way to the community center, they come across many trick & treaters as they walk by them.
   Stan: So out of every halloween costume that you’ve worn so far, which one is your most favorite?
   Lydia: This costume actually. It has the right type of gothic nature feeling that I often associate with myself. And I’ve worn it once before at the Netherworld.
   Stan: How did that go?
  Lydia: Me and Beetlejuice dressed up as witches in order to sneak into the Witches’ Ball to recuse my cat over there. Percy snuck into the Netherworld with me by accident, and was later kidnapped by a real witch.
   Stan: Woah, dude.
   Lydia: Percy was thankfully alright when we recused him. And as for the witches, they didn’t treat us so kindly at first when they saw through our disguise. But after BJ showed them how to have a fun halloween party, we became good terms with them ever since.
   They soon make a quick pit stop at the school bus pick up area where they go into behind one of the big trees in order to call in Beetlejuice without any seeing. Stan quickly checks one more time to be sure no one else is around.
   Stan: Okay, there’s no one around but us.
   Lydia: Good. Let’s bring him here quickly before anyone sees us.
   Both Stan and Lydia: Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!
   The Ghost With The Most automatically appears right in front of them with a jack-o’-lantern as his head.
   Beetlejuice excited: Happy halloween! *laughs hysterically* Boy, I can’t wait to show South Park how much of a party animal I can be! *turns himself into an ape with a party hat on, and does some dance moves*
   Stan: *laughs* I know that you’ve been looking forward to this party all month long, and I can’t wait for you to meet my friends. But just try not to get too crazy over there, alright? This town already had enough insane ghost experience in the past that they’re trying to forget about it.
   Beetlejuice: *turns himself back to normal* Yeah, yeah, I get your point. *notices Stan’s Indiana Jones outfit* Hey, since when you decided to rip off from one of my disguises?
   Stan: You dressed up as Indiana Jones before?
   Beetlejuice: Actually, I prefer to be named as Grimdiana Bones. *his eyes popped wide open, and panics* Shit!
   Suddenly, a huge boulder shows up rolling towards him.
   Beetlejuice: AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
   The boulder runs over him, resulting his entire body to be laid on the ground as flat as a human cardboard.
   Lydia: Oooo, are you okay?
   Beetlejuice: Ow, give me a sec. *uses his right thumb to blow himself back in normal shape* I gotta find a better way in saying that name without getting run over.
   Lydia: Maybe try to be careful on what you say for tonight so that way the party won’t end up in chaos.
   Beetlejuice: Whatever you say, Babes. Now come on, it’s time to party!
   A few minutes later, they finally reached to the community center. And as they walk in, there’s a lot of halloween decorations spread around, a couple large tables that holds many snacks and drinks, and everyone at the party were wearing costumes.
   Lydia: Deadly Vu! This party is a lot bigger than I expected!
   Stan: Like what you’re seeing here so far?
   Lydia: Yep! The decorations here are spectacular.
   Stan notices some of his friends heading towards them. It was Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. Kyle is dressed up as the Green Lantern, while Kenny is dressed up as the Mandalorian, and Cartman is dressed up as Baby Yoda.
   Stan: Sup, guys!
   Kyle: Sup, you two. Sweet costumes!
   Lydia: Thank you! I’ve made this witch outfit all by myself.
   Kenny: It looks very beautiful in a very spooky way, Lydia.
   Lydia: Being spooky is in my blood.
   Cartman: And who’s the stinky guy behind you two lovebirds?
   Beetlejuice: I should be asking you the same question, fat goblin.
   Cartman getting pissed: What did you call me?
   Lydia: Sorry, he likes to give people funny nicknames. Anyway, this is Mr. Beetleman. He’s a good friend of mine that also moved here from Peaceful Pines.
   Kyle: Did you move here right around the same time as Lydia and her parents?
   Beetlejuice: I like to make my own schedules. Arriving here just in time to introduce myself on the best night of the year.
   Kenny: Which area in South Park did you moved into?
   Beetlejuice: The dirtiest part in this town. I’m a grotesque type of a guy. *opens his mouth to show off his greenish teeth and disgusting tongue* See?
   Cartman: *laughs hysterically* Sounds like you have new dirty neighbor living next door to you, Kenny!
   Beetlejuice: I was talking about the sewers.
   Kenny: Ummm, good for you then.
   Stan: Anyway, your costumes are just as sweet as ours. Especially yours, Kenny.
   Kenny: Thanks, dude.
   Cartman: *groans* I should’ve been the Mandalorian instead.
   Stan: Did something happen between you two?
   Kyle: They had a bet last week on who can get through the longest on listening to Jimmy Fallon’s lame jokes without turning it off. The winner gets to be Mando, and the loser has to dressed up as Grogu, aka Baby Yoda as everyone still calls him. Cartman stopped listening to the jokes within thirty seconds, and Kenny won the bet.
   Stan: I gotta say, you do look super cute in that costume, Cartman. You really do look like Baby Yoda just as he was in the show.
   Cartman annoyed: Shut up, hippie.
   Beetlejuice: You call that a bet? *pfft* I would’ve made a bet on who can hold their breath the longest in a toxic waste bathtub.
   Lydia: Is Wendy and Bebe here too?
   Kenny: Last I saw them, they were hanging out together by the drink table.
   Lydia: Thanks.
   Stan: Oh, cool. I wanna see who they’re dressing up as.
   Beetlejuice: Ah, what the hell. I’ll join with you two before I start partying.
   They head over to where Wendy and Bebe are at. When they approach them, they can see the costumes that two girls were wearing. Wendy was wearing a short black hair wig, a long grayish top with a red shirt underneath it, black gloves, and red & dark red leggings. Bebe had a huge blonde hair wig, and a long skirt pink dress.
   Lydia: Hey, girls.
   Wendy: Hi, Lydia. Hi, Stan. Awesome costumes!
   Stan: Same goes to you two. I can tell that Bebe is Rapunzel from Tangled, but who you’re supposed to be, Wendy?
   Wendy: I’m Cassandra from the Tangled TV series.
   Stan: Tangled had a TV show?
   Bebe: It ran for 3 seasons on Disney Channel. Many people overlook the show since they think of it mainly as a cartoon show for little girls, but it’s actually a really good show. It has a great voice cast, great songs, good storying telling, and wonderful animation. Give it a watch whenever you guys can.
   Lydia: Thanks for the recommendation, but I’m not as super into Disney stuff as most people are. Although I do enjoy their villain roster.
   Wendy: Do you have a favorite Disney villain?
   Lydia: Maleficent would have to be my favorite pick. Her outfit is so magnificently evil, and she’s just so good at being bad.
   Bebe: Tell me about it, she’s literally one of the greatest villains of all time.
   Beetlejuice: Sounds like she might be a really fun baddie to hangout with.
   Wendy: Oh, I didn’t noticed you from behind. Who are you?
   Stan: This is Mr. Beetleman. Mr. Beetleman, this is Wendy and Bebe.
   Wendy: Please to meet you, Mr. Beetleman. *she smells Beetlejuice’s stench* Eww, something smells like rotten meat mixed with Cartman’s gym bag.
   Beetlejuice: That would be me. *laughs*
   Bebe disgusted: Oh god! You have the most disgusting smell that I ever sniffed at!
   Beetlejuice: Aww, I’m flattered! Just hearing those words is making me want to turn my—
   Both Stan & Lydia: DON’T!
   Wendy and Bebe looked at them with a confuse look on their faces.
   Beetlejuice: Oh, right. But anyway, I seriously appreciate your compliments, ladies. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I’m gonna start partying like Philadelphia winning a sports championship. *heads off to the dance floor area to party*
   Wendy: Umm, do you two actually hangout with that guy?
   Lydia: He’s a friend of mine and my parents that recently moved here from Peaceful Pines too. He may smell gross, but he can be a pretty helpful person whenever you need an extra hand.
   Stan: And he knows how to give anyone a fun time.
   Bebe: We’ll keep that in mind the next time we talk to him, although I wish that he can give himself a bath right away.
   Stan: Sorry, but he loves his smelly personal hygienes, and hates to be clean. You’re gonna have to in getting used to him being a 24/7 dirty person.
   Meanwhile at the dancing floor, Beetlejuice interacts with Dog Poo.
   Beetlejuice: Hey, kid. You smell just as gross as me. What’s your name?
   Dog Poo: Everyone just calls me Dog Poo.
   Beetlejuice: Dog Poo?! *laughs* That’s gotta be one of the best goddamn names that I’ve heard in years! Put it there, Doggy Poo!
   Both he and Dog Poo shake each other hands.
   Dog Poo: And what’s your name?
   Beetlejuice: The name’s Mr. Beetleman, but please just call me Beetleman.
   Dog Poo: *smells Beetlejuice’s stench* Ooo, you smell way worse than me! What did you rolled yourself into?
   Beetlejuice: Pretty much every disgusting thing that you can imagine. Rotten food, waste dumps, dead bugs, dirty water, cow crap, and I even give my armpits a skunk spray every morning.
   Dog Poo: Damn, even I wouldn’t get too close with a skunk. You truly are the king of stinks!
   Beetlejuice: That’s what I do for a living!
   The song Jump in The Line begins to play, and that got Lydia excited.
   Lydia: Oh my god, this is my most favorite song ever! You wanna dance to it, Stan?
   Stan: Oh, umm, I haven’t done any dancing since I was in the fourth grade, and I don’t think that I can do it well anymore.
   Lydia: Oh, come on, dude! This is one of the best songs to dance along with. Just give it a try for me, please?
   Stan: *sigh* Alright, I’ll do it. But only just for you.
   Lydia smiling: Thank you! Now, let’s dance!
   Both she and Stan walk to the dance floor, and as they got there, Lydia begins to make some dance moves. Shaking her body, raising up her arms, and snapping her fingers. Stan on the other hand was shaking his body a little less, and raising his fist underneath his chain while moving them left and right repeatedly.
   Lydia: Is that the best that you can do?
   Stan: Like I said, I haven’t danced in years.
   Lydia: Well then, let me get you in full spirt. First, raise up your arms, and then snap your fingers much like how I’m doing it.
   Stan. Okay. *raises up his arms, and starts to snap his fingers*
   Lydia: Good. Now shake your body more faster, but not too fast.
   He begins to shake his body at the same rate speed as Lydia was doing it.
   Lydia: That’s it! You got it!
   Stan: *laughs a bit* Wow, this feels so good.
   Lydia: Try to dance along with me as best as you can.
   Stan smiling: Got it!
   Both move their bodies up and down while moving their fist left and right for a couple times, and then shake the bodies left and right while raising their fist up and down.
   Stan: You wanna try using our feet now?
   Lydia: You go first, and I’ll follow.
   Stan starts off by rolling around his fist, then steps to the right, and steps back to the left. He does the dancing moves over and over again as Lydia follows his foot steps. Stan then makes a quick spin, and has one of his hands close to Lydia.
   Stan: Now let’s try dancing while holding each other hands.
   Lydia smiling: Sure, let’s give it a try.
   They hold each other hands, Stan raises up his arm, and Lydia does a twirl dance move. Then they have all of their hands locked into each other, start step dancing side to side, and then they do it back and forth. And as the song reaches its end, Stan raises up his arm up one more time to give Lydia an another twirl.
   Lydia: Looks like your dancing moves had never left you after all of those years.
   Stan: Yeah, and thank you for giving me the convince to dance again. It was really fun.
   Lydia smiling: Glad to help.
   For much of the rest of the Halloween party, Stan and Lydia chit-chatted with many of their friends, and even had one more dance with each other while the song Come and Get Your Love played. It was now almost 9:30 pm as they were talking with Butters.
   Butters: …and that’s why I decided to dress up as a Hello Kitty zombie for this Halloween.
   Lydia: Umm…I’ll give you credit, I’ve never seen anyone taking that idea and turn it into a full costume. How about you, Stan?
   Stan: I can’t believe that you’re still into Hello Kitty to this day.
   Butters: So, cute pets are some of my favorite things. I know that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but Hello Kitty still brings a smile in my face whenever I’m not in a good mood.
   Stan: Just be careful when you share that kind of guy to people. Many will think of you as very weird because not a lot of guys like Hello Kitty stuff.
   Butters: I understand.
   Stan checks on his phone, and sees that it’s 9:30.
   Stan: Hey, Lydia. There’s something that I need to talk with you about privately before we head back home. Can we talk about it outside?
   Lydia: Sure, Stan. 
   Stan: And Butters, can you tell Mr. Beetleman that me and Lydia are outside in case if he ever needs us.
   Butters: Will do, Stan. And in case if I don’t see you two again, have a good night, and happy halloween.
   Lydia: You too, Butters. See ya!
   In the next chapter, Stan and Lydia convince their true feelings for each other.
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z-iridest · 4 years
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(A/N: Okay, guys, I hope you enjoy a little Denki Kaminari fluff ^.^ A big thank you to @lxvely-mha for helping me with the idea, if you haven't checked out their blog, YOU HAVE NOT LIVED! Lxvly, this is for you, and I hope you don't mind if I drew from your headcannons for Denki Kaminari as a boyfriend)
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Hungry Eyes: A Denki Kaminari x Shy & Clumsy Female! Reader One Shot
It all started with a dance....
As the daughter of a pro hero, I had to be ready for anything. A villain attack, random people wanting an autograph from my Dad, and my Dad's infamous loud as hell outbursts to name a few. Considering that the Pro Hero I'm talking about is Present Mic, it's actually kind of ironic that his daughter is a silent, shy klutz that has a similar quirk to his. Mine is literally a sonic scream.....
My clumsiness is going to be my death one day. It's why I've never danced at any school dances, preferring to be either sitting on the sidelines, or next to the DJ booth (sometimes in it if my Dad was the DJ). I'd already embarrassed myself several times tripping over anything and everything, no reason to do it with an audience. To be fair, my Dad did try teaching me how to dance..... Hours of sore feet on my Dad's end later and me falling on my rear way too many times, we were both ready to call it quits. Speaking of my Dad....
There's only a handful of people I've ever talked outloud to: My Dad, My Mom, and my Uncle: Shota Aizawa (yeah, Aizawa is my godfather, get over it). Everyone else, I talk to using JSL or writing down what I want to say. I only talk to people I'm not comfortable around when it's an absolute necessity. Why? Allow me to take you back a few months ago....
See, when I first started at U.A., I started dating this guy... You actually know him. Remember Monoma from Class 1-B? Yeah....
Well, everything was going great with him... Until I caught him making out with a different girl. He had the audacity to tell me it was my own fault for not measuring up to his "perfect standards" and told me I'd never be good enough to live up to my Dad's rep as a Pro Hero, that I was a waste of space. I kinda just shut down after that, refusing to talk to my Dad or Uncle Shota for a while, especially since Monoma spread a rumor around school that I was quirkless. That got me bullied a bit until Dad got wind of it.....
Boy, was he mad....
But don't worry! Everything's fine now. The rumors died down about a month ago, though I think that was mainly due to me joining the BakuSquad.... For those who don't know, the BakuSquad is a group of a bunch of loveable goofballs and their explosive pomeranian of a leader: Katsuki Bakugo. Mina was the one who brought me into the group, and thank god, they never pushed me to talk. I mainly just listened to their antics and tried to hold back fits of laughter. It almost felt normal...
Almost....
Since we broke up, Monoma has a bad habit of cornering me at my locker after school to try to get me to go back to dating him. I always tell him no, and he pushes me around until either Kirishima, Bakugo, Sero or Kaminari come looking for me. I think deep down, he's scared half to hell of Kaminari, because the one time Monoma didn't stop when Kaminari told him to... Oh boy, Pikachu Boy went all out on Monoma, shocking him until he made a run for it. It was actually really funny to watch, I won't lie.....
Back to what I was saying: As the kid of a pro hero, you have to be ready for anything. But, that's where fate'll get you good...
When you least expect it, fate can just (excuse my french) bitch slap you out of nowhere. For example.....
"You did what?!" The only reason I was talking to Mina and Jiro at that second was out of shock. We were in my dorm room, so there was no one around to hear me talk anyways outside of Mina and Jirou.
"Mina decided to nominate you and Kaminari for the couple to do the first dance at the Mid-Summer Dance this year for the first years, and you guys won the school's vote." Jirou told me. I let out a humiliated whine and plopped facedown onto my pillow. The Mid Summer Dance was a school wide dance party to have fun in the final days of summer. One couple from each year did the first, second and third slow dances, the first years being the ones to kick off the actual dance. I felt a hand on my back.
"Aww, come on, Y/N, it's not that bad." Mina's voice told me. I sat up faster than Iida can run, and looked at her with a look that told her I thought she was crazy.
"Are you forgetting who you're talking to? The resident klutz of U.A. High, that's who! I'm gonna die, that's it! Game over, no pro hero career for me! Y/N Yamada, dead at 16! Cause of death: Embarrassing tumble in front of the whole school! I'll be lucky if the dress I wear that night doesn't rip or something on the way there." I burried my face in my pillow again. "Besides, I don't know how to dance. I've always avoided the dancefloor at parties or anything like that."
"Why don't you just ask Kaminari to teach you how to dance?" Jirou asked.
"I've never talked in front of him, remember? And I can't ask him, it'd be too embarrassing." I reminded Jirou.
"Fine, if you won't ask Kaminari to teach you how to dance, I'll ask him for you." Mina's words pierced me with more horror than any thriller movie. Believe me, that's saying something because I hate horror movies.
"No, no, no, no, no!" I shouted, jumping up, but Mina was already out of my room, calling for Kaminari. I raced out of my room after her, but by the time I caught up, she was already telling Kaminari. Crap....The second Kaminari locked eyes with me, I bolted back into my room and hid in the closet. Damn it, Mina! I felt heat rise to my face. Great, now I'm blushing.... Just a few minutes later, I heard footsteps. They stopped before I heard voices.
"Jirou, have you seen Y/N?" Kaminari's voice.
"She's hiding in there." Traitor. I heard footsteps walk away. Okay, maybe Kaminari walked away. Maybe he...
"Y/N?" Damn it, he didn't walk away. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't dance?" I slowly came out of the closet and signed my answer in JSL.
I thought it was obvious. I'm the resident klutz of U.A., so....
"You're scared of falling in front of everyone? You always seem so fearless." Kaminari told me, sitting on my bed. I gave him a You've gotta be kidding me look as I sat down next to him. "I'm serious!"
Looks can be deceiving. I'm scared of everything. I put on a facade during training to make it look like I'm not scared when I actually am.
"You're still such a badass... Anyway, back to the dance. What were you gonna do when the night of the dance came and you still didn't know how to dance?" Kaminari asked me. I shrugged.
I would have figured out something.
"Like what, bailing on the dance all together?" Kaminari asked, raising an eyebrow. I opened my mouth, but quickly closed it. That had been the last resort. "That's what I thought." He stood up and offered his hand to me. "Come on, the dance is a couple weeks away, but we'd better start now if you're gonna be ready." With no other choice, I placed my hand in Kaminari's, a sudden spark flowing from me to him.
And it wasn't from his quirk.
I didn't have time to ponder what the spark even was, because Kaminari pulled me up off my bed and started pulling me to the gym where the dance would be held. I had just enough time to notice how perfectly my hand seemed to fit in his. What's wrong with me?
It was then that the real work began. While keeping up with studying and homework from all my classes (which I had to help Kaminari with most of), and planning the dance with the Dance Committee, I was taking dance lessons with Kaminari. Surprisingly, no matter how much I stepped on his toes, he stayed patient and helped me through it. Everytime I tripped and started falling, he caught me easily. "Now that the worst's happened, you don't have to be scared. I've got you." Kaminari had told me with a wink the first time I had tripped and he had caught me. I have no idea why, but I started blushing like an idiot around him, and kept tripping outside of our dance lessons, worse than my normal clumsiness. If this is what having a crush was, I was falling hard for the human Pikachu.... Literally.
Before I knew it, it was the day before the dance. Kaminari and I danced alone in the gym, and much to my own surprise, I didn't trip. Not once. Kaminari was grinning wider than a Cheshire cat when we finally finished.
"Yes! I knew you could do it, that was awesome!" Kaminari exclaimed with the biggest smile on his face as he pumped both fists in the air. I covered my mouth to keep a laugh in, but it slipped out in a giggle. When I looked up, Denki was looking at me with the most adorable look ever. His head was tilted to one side slightly, and his eyes held this just... Adoring look. "Y'know... Your laugh is adorable." I felt the heat rise to my face as I looked away from him. "I mean it." He made me look at him, giving me a sweet smile. He was so close, one single move from either of us, and we'd be kissing. He cleared his throat after a good long minute, giving me a sheepish smile. "Want to run through it one more time?" He asked me. I nodded and we danced again. I couldn't stop the smile on my face as I danced, feeling happy for the first time in a long time. I noticed that the more I smiled, the more Denki smiled. As we finished the routine perfectly for the second time that day, I felt Denki interlace his fingers with mine, the look on his face serious. He raised one hand, gently cupping the side of my face. My heart started pounding fiercely against my chest. What was going to happen next? "Y/N.... I want to ask you something...." He told me, his eyes and his voice soft. Just as he opened his mouth to continue, my phone rang. I groaned.
"Sorry, I gotta take this." I shrugged before answering my phone.
"Y/N, where are you? We have to do the final preparations for the party!" Mina's voice shrilled at the other end. Iida must have been right there, otherwise she wouldn't have called me about something like this.
"Do I really have to be there?" I asked.
"No, I just need you to answer a couple things over the phone." Mina told me.
"Go for it." I told her, giving Kaminari an apologetic look. He gave me a thumbs up as if silently telling me it was fine. I leaned against the wall behind me as I listened to Mina's questions, answering each one. Everytime I talked, I noticed Denki having that same adoring look on his face. Just as I shifted against the wall a bit, I saw Kaminari start to walk over to me.
"Y/N?" Kaminari called my name, and I noticed he had a determined look on his face."I was wondering... Do you want to go to the dance with me?" I put the phone down for a second, feeling a little confused.
"Yeah, I mean, the BakuSquad's all going together, right? I think Bakugo has us leaving the dorms around 7 or something..." I told him. I heard Mina call my name and put the phone back to my ear. Jeeze, how many more questions did this girl have?
"No, I mean, with me." Denki told me. What was he getting at?
"Yeah, I can swing by your dorm around 6:30." I told him. He did mean arrive there as a group with the squad.... Didn't he? Mina asked me another question before I could think about what he meant. "Yeah, when you're facing the stage it has to go on the left... Right." I shook my head as Mina sounded confused. "No, the left, not the right." I heard Denki mumble something under his breath, something along the lines of,
"Oh man, this is gonna be hard." I suddenly felt his hand on mine as he placed his other arm on the wall next to me. Is he... Doing the kabedon on me? I felt my cheeks turn bright red, as he was really, really close to me now. I was forced to look into his gold eyes, which held a very serious look. "Y/N..." He moved my phone fully from my ear, keeping my closed hand in his. I swear, Mina was intently listening in, because I could hear her suddenly go silent on the other line. "Would you.... Be my date for the Mid-Summer Dance?" A smile crept onto my face, which caused him to chuckle a bit. "And... If you don't absolutely hate me by the end of it... Would you... consider... Maybe, being more than friends?" I smiled up at him brighter. I was getting asked out by my crush! "Maybe?"
"Like... Boyfriend and girlfriend where we can... Hold hands instead of just fist bumping and slugging each other all the time, and... We can text, and I can tell you how great you are, because, Kaminari, you really are great, and I'm the luckiest girl in the world, you're so sweet and adorable, and..." I suddenly felt something warm and soft against my lips, effectively cutting me off. Despite the dark blush on my face, I melted into Denki's kiss. When we finally pulled away, he grinned down at me.
"First of all, you call me Denki. And second, if anyone's the lucky one, it's me, sweetheart." I closed my eyes and blushed darker, if it was humanly possible, as he softly kissed my forehead. I giggled and hugged him, feeling him hug me back. "Well then, milady, until tomorrow night." He grinned goofily as he held my hand in his, bowing and pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand. With a wink and the most adorable smile, he was gone.
When I got back to the dorms, I was greeted by all the girls, each one having the stupidest smile on their faces as they all sat in the common room. I blushed under their stares and said only two words, knowing Mina had heard what had happened after dance practice and had told all the girls. "Shut up." I told them, causing all of them to burst into a giggle fit.
Right after school the next day, the girls of 1-A practically dragged me to my room to get me ready for the dance. Mina, Momo and Ochaco teamed up on picking the dress while Toru and Jirou teamed up on curing my hair. Once my hair was finished being curled and fully hair sprayed, Toru pinned one side of my hair out of my face with bobby pins before Mina, Asui and Ochaco carefully helped me into the dress they chose: an adorable white, off the shoulder sundress that fell to my knees in length. While Ochaco grabbed a pair of white heels for me to wear, Mina did my makeup for me. I put my heels on myself once Mina was done and grabbed my purse, blushing when I saw that all the girls were admiring their work. "Twirl, Y/N! Twirl for us!" Toru cheered at me. I blushed and twirled. The dress spun before falling back into place, the girls awwing before I spoke up, looking at the time.
"Uh, guys? It's 6:45." My words forced them into action, a unanimous:
"Oh, crap!" Leaving each of the girls as they scampered off to go get ready, realizing they had very little time left to ready themselves because of fawning over every little detail when it came to me. I giggled and looked at my reflection. I didn't look completely like myself, but for the first time in a long time... I felt... Beautiful.
At 7, I left the comfortable confines of my room to join everyone else in the common room. I felt my face turn dark red as the chatter from the boys suddenly stopped, all attention on me.
"Damn, Yamada, you look great." Kirishima spoke up first, a grin on his face.
"Great? Try goregous!" Sero spoke up. All the boys except for Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki and Kamin... I mean Denki, started arguing about what word was best to describe me. I snuck a look at Denki. That teasing bastard was wearing black dress pants with really nice black shoes and a tucked in, white button up shirt with the top two buttons undone. He just had to dress like that for tonight... I exchanged glances with Denki, and I swear, there was a shit-eating grin on Kaminari's face as he wrapped his arms around me.
"Man, if I'd known you'd get all cleaned up this good for me, I would have asked you out weeks ago." Denki told me as he looked down at me.
"Blame the girls, they wouldn't let me out of my room until I accepted their wish to do a full on makeover." I blushed darker. "You cleaned up really nice too, by the way." He grinned down at me before pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"Only for my baby... Besides, girls should know you didn't need to put on makeup and style your hair just to impress me, princess. You're beautiful to me no matter what you look like." He whispered in my ear before softly kissing the tip of my nose. I hid my dark red face in his chest as Kaminari spoke up over the guys, cutting off their arguement. "It's all very flattering, but the best word to describe her is simple: Angelic." I could practically feel the cheesy smile he was shooting at me in that second. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to respond, but the girls had joined us just then.
When we got there, Dad was blasting music left and right, doing his DJ thing as always. I laughed a bit as I saw him living up. I had to admit, the decoration committee did an awesome job at turning the big old gym into a dancefloor. I felt Kaminari kiss my cheek and I turned toward him. "Go ahead and say hi to your Dad, I'll grab us some punch." He told me. I smiled and nodded before pulling him down into a quick kiss... Which he turned into 3 sweet little pecks. I giggled and he winked before leaving my side. As I made my way toward the DJ booth, Jirou caught me.
"Y'know, we all knew he had a crush on you. As soon as you guys started doing dance lessons, he suddenly stopped flirting with all the girls and started keeping Mineta in line." She told me.
"Seriously?" I asked. She nodded.
"Yeah, Mina and I knew it was a matter of time before he asked you out. We just weren't expecting it to happen yesterday." She told me. I smiled. "I really am happy for you guys. You especially look extremely happy."
"I haven't smiled like this in a long time, Jirou." I told her honestly. She smiled and we exchanged a hug before I continued walking toward my Dad. He grinned when he saw me and exited the DJ booth for a second to give me a hug.
"You look beautiful, baby bird." Dad told me, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. I smiled up at him.
"Thanks, Dad." I told him.
"You nervous for the dance?"
"A little. But, I've been practicing for the past two weeks, so I think I'll be okay."
"Who is your partner anyway? Everytime I was about to find out, I got pulled away."
"You'll see, Dad." I winked at him before leaving to rejoin Denki. Instead, I ran into the only person who could ruin the night for me.....
"Wow, Y/N, you never dressed like this for me." Monoma crooned at me.
"I never felt comfortable until now, please excuse me." I said as I started to walk away. My heart came to a slamming hault in my chest as Monoma grabbed my wrist, stopping me from going anywhere. "M-Monoma, let me go!" I told him, feeling a panic attack coming on. My anxiety was shooting through the roof....
"You're not going anywhere with him." Monoma hissed at me. "You're mine."
"Not anymore." I yanked my wrist out of his grip, gingerly holding it. "Denki cares about me way more than you ever could care. You don't care about anyone but yourself, and I'd take back dating you if I could." I told him, trying to calm myself down. He growled, roughly grabbing my arm and pushing me into a corner. My breathing got so short, I couldn't breathe.
"Wrong move." He snarled at me. Right before he could touch me, he yelped, a spark of electricity zapping through him. Behind him was Denki, his quirk crackling in his right hand, and boy did he looked pissed.
"Denki." A breath of relief left me as I scampered behind him, feeling his right hand hold mine as Monoma growled angrily, getting back up.
"Nobody puts my baby in a corner." Denki snarled, aiming a bolt of his quirk at the ground near Monoma's feet. That blue eyed, selfish blond screamed like a girl and ran for it, his classmates laughing at him while Kendo scolded him. As soon as Monoma was gone, Denki deactivated his quirk, turned around and wrapped his arms around me protectively. "You okay, babe?" He asked. I nodded.
"I am now." I told him before kissing his cheek. "Thanks for saving me." He grinned down at me and winked just as my Dad announced that it was time to dance. He let go of me and offered his arm.
"Shall we, milady?" He asked. I giggled and took his arm.
"Do you even have to ask?" I questioned in counter. He chuckled before leading me to the dancefloor. Once of the floor, we took our starting positions before the beat of the song started. (A/N: Start listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen for this part ^.^).
As soon as the beat started, we started to move, our eyes never leaving each other. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see all of Class 1-A gathered around us, watching us as we danced. "Everyone's watching us." I whispered to him.
"They don't matter right now. It's just you and me right now, baby." He whispered back with a grin. I giggled as I had fun, dancing with him. I knew, without a doubt, that my Dad was watching us, and I mentally cringed. Denki wasn't exactly popular with the teachers in a good way..... My thoughts distracted me enough to make me trip over my own feet after the second verse. Thank God for Denki, because he caught me and made it look like he was dipping me, which caused our classmates to cheer. He winked. "Told you I'd catch you." He softly told me. I smiled and we continued to dance, Denki spinning me at certain points and the next dip he did being during the instrumental after the bridge after twirling me again.
We continued dancing until the music started to fade out, stopping in the middle and slowly bringing our conjoined hands down. A roar of applause thundered from the crowd and Denki pulled me into a hug. I did it.... I danced with my boyfriend without getting embarrased! I felt him tense a bit after a second and I turned to see my Dad giving Denki the "I'm watching you" look. I rolled my eyes and pulled Denki into a kiss, feeling him hold me tighter as we kissed.
This night couldn't have been more perfect.....
Epliouge ( A/N: Extra just for fun!)
A couple days after the dance, Monoma tried to corner me again, this time being stupid enough to do it while the BakuSquad was still around me. I heard a snarl leave my boyfriend, but I put my hand out, stopping him from doing anything as I glared at my ex as he fired off insult after insult at me. But, he really crossed the line, pissing me off in the process, when he insulted Denki. Finally having had enough, I slammed my locker shut and faced Monoma with the sharpest glare on my face. If looks could kill.... "Monoma, you are absolutely pathetic. You can say whatever you want about me, but insulting my boyfriend? It's about time you GET A LIFE!" I used my quirk on Monoma, letting out the loud energy I had contained for months on end thanks to him. He flew backwards and hit the wall while Sero, Kirishima, even Bakugo laughed their asses off. Denki smirked as he wrapped his arms around me.
"Told you: You're a badass." Denki told me.
"Come on, guys, let's get the hell out of here." I told my friends, walking out beside my boyfriend.
(A/N: Tada! ^.^ Hope you guys enjoyed!)
Taglist: @lxvely-mha @fakeanimefanntnt
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blog-sliverofjade · 3 years
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Hearth Fires 3: Feline Tactics
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Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC
Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.
Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.
While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.  
Word count: 2783
Hearth Fires Masterlist
Beta read by the magnificent pandabearer
Tien and JoJo hadn’t been back but three minutes before the rest of the pack came sniffing around.  Remi could practically see their animals’ tails arched into question marks of curiosity. Taking a snickerdoodle for herself, Tien set the box on a table and stepped back to let the others swarm.
“Suddenly my cooking’s not good enough for you?” Avery scowled and folded his arms.  “Fine, then you can cook for yourselves.” The lanky male threatened to stop running the kitchen in the communal aerie whenever someone irritated him, which was nearly on a weekly basis.  He never did, though, because the offending party usually made reparations before the next mealtime.
“Hmm, it’s good enough for me, baby.”  Tien nuzzled her nose against his with the soft, lazy smile she reserved for her mate and fed him a bite of snickerdoodle.
Avery chewed thoughtfully before muttering, “Not bad.”  She stroked and petted his back until he wrapped an arm around her and fed her small bites.
“Oh man, I don’t care what you gotta do, we need this woman,” moaned Elijah around a cupcake, the senior soldier’s eyes rolling back into his head.  “ I need this woman.”
“One look at you and she’d run,” Lark snorted and waved her caramel apple at him.  A few slices of pecans fell off his cupcake and Elijah caught them with cat-like reflexes.  He eyed her like he was considering pelting her with them, but after a moment he tossed them in his mouth with another groan.
“Besides, why do you automatically assume she would cook?” Tien frowned at Elijah.
“I’m sure I could coax the kitten into it,” he smirked and licked the frosting from his fingers.  The male never had a shortage of lovers, all of whom looked like the cat that got into the cream when they shared skin privileges.
Normally, Remi would be more concerned about a submissive female tangling with a dominant male, particularly one as deadly as Elijah was under the jokes and openly sensual nature.  Despite a face that was just shy of being beautiful and a body nearly as packed with muscle as his own, Remi doubted the other man could coax the reticent Lorelei into anything.
Remi, on the other hand, was certain he could entice her.
“She turned you down.”  Theo’s quiet, but deep, voice drowned out the yumyumyum noises Elijah was making.
Everyone stilled and turned to look at their alpha.  Merde, he’d hoped to gloss over his failure, but it was too late.
“Do you think I’d get arrested if I kidnapped her?”  Elijah’s musing broke the silence as he contemplated the best way to attack the caramel apple he held.  Remi smacked the back of his head.
“You’re a leopard, not a bear.  Act like it,” he growled. The male soldier waggled his brows and bit into the apple, nearly unhinging his jaws in order to fit the damn thing in.  His unrepentance slackened into concern when the caramel melted around his teeth and he appeared stuck.
“You’re just grumpy because she resisted your charms,” teased Lark.  The sentinel was at the back of the room and therefore safely out of smacking range.  While he knew that the teasing denoted an ease and a sense of safety, sometimes Remi braced himself to see if he would lose his temper.  Some alphas didn’t permit such familiarity, holding more Machiavellian views, and he still worried that he fell into that group.
Instead of taking it as a challenge, his leopard rolled its eyes and flopped on its side with its back to Lark.
“I’ll remember that when the first snow hits and it’s time to do perimeter rotations.”  He narrowed his eyes at Lark.
Elijah managed to break away from his sticky trap, taking half the apple with him.
“How’d she manage to defy our fearless leader?” he asked around the chunk of fruit.  Or at least that’s what Remi assumed the garbled noises coming from the soldier’s mouth were.
“Ms. Maddox doesn’t see the need for pack.”
The soldiers and maternals stared at him.  Most cats were solitary creatures, but their human halves needed community, family.  Dominants needed to protect, and maternals needed to nurture. Each needed the other to feel whole.  Even those who chose to go it alone understood those who preferred pack life.
Moreover, they could not afford to have a predatory Changeling living within their borders that wasn’t one of them, it might give ideas to those with purposes darker than creating sinful concoctions.  RainFire was just large and powerful enough to make outsiders think twice before trespassing, but there were those who would be emboldened by her presence. They couldn’t hold off many repeated comers, and they had to protect their young ones.
None of the soldiers pointed any of that out, but they did exchange glances.  Like him, they were uneasy at the prospect of having to drive Lorelei off, their instincts wanting to bring her in where they could watch over her along with the rest of their vulnerable.  Not all of them had met the ocelot, but all were aware of her, just as they were the herd of elk that occasionally roamed through part of their area, the flight of crows to the east, and each individual non-predatory Changeling who lived on their territory.
“I do enjoy proving people wrong,” Tien said mildly into the silence, momentarily diverting the martially minded.  Sly grins broke out around the room.
“No caveman tactics,” said Remi with a pointed look at Elijah, who gave him wide eyes in return.  “We’re cats; at least try and be sneaky. If you can’t figure that out, I’m sure one of the cubs could give you tips.”  Elijah clasped a hand to his chest as if mortally offended, then grimaced when his t-shirt adhered to his caramel-coated hand.
“Now that you’ve all been bribed and some of you are glued to your seats.”  Elijah shifted and had to pry his palm off the table he sat on. “An email has been circulating in the area.”  Remi brought it up on the screen at the front of the conference room. Everyone’s attention snapped to the display.
He smiled to himself.
The poor baby had no idea what she was in for when an entire pack of cats focused on a single goal.
“Of course they want it delivered,” Lorel muttered sarcastically to herself as she bobbled along the road, which was barely deserving of the name.  A particularly large pothole had her worrying about cracking a tooth.
The hover option in her ancient sedan had given out that morning, and she had neither the time nor the money to get it looked at.  She couldn’t even appreciate the patchwork of trees because she had to keep one eye on the rutted-out dirt track and the other on the cake in the backseat.  If it bounced right up into the ceiling of the car, they weren’t getting a refund. And she was going to charge them to have the car detailed.
The donkey trail dead-ended in a turnabout circle; no buildings appeared to be in sight, the only sign of life was what looked like game trails leading off into the woods.  Did they live in burrows like animals? She didn’t think that there were any caves in this part of the mountains.
Just as Lorel was contemplating whether or not to dump the goods and bail, a tall black woman materialized from the trees and motioned her to the right.  What she’d thought was merely a grassy berm raised on hydraulic lifts to reveal a plas-crete reinforced bunker. The guide loped inside to lead her to an empty spot amongst rows of parked vehicles.
“Come into my parlour,” she muttered as she eased into the space.  The door closed, leaving her in a dimly lit cavern. “That wasn’t ominous at all.”  She popped the back hatch and sweat burst out of every pore when she stepped into the coolly neutral atmosphere of the garage.  “That’s great, go into the leopard’s den reeking of fear.”
She was too busy muttering to herself to notice the man who swooped in and grabbed the cake before she could; she tried not to stare at his size.  The man was built like a freaking tree.
“Thanks.  Is the exit automatic or does someone need to let me out?”   Please say it’s automatic.  The man-tree was too busy admiring the neon green cake crowned with black chocolate that looked like it was oozing; black tentacles and strawberries with fanged maws of frosting emerged from the top.  She was a little worried that he might start drooling. At least the boxes of cookies and cupcakes in her hands had lids and were therefore safe from him.
“If one speck of frosting’s out of place, you get to be the one to tell Tien,” the woman warned him, and shut the hatchback.  He affected a shudder and stepped back to flank Lorel.
The two of them shepherded her towards a door set into the wall at the back of the lot.  A bead of cold sweat slithered down the small of her back. Her cat did not like having two dominant predators at her back pushing her into unknown territory.
They led her through the thick, steel door and up a gently sloping corridor.  It would be easy to move something heavy along the slight incline, like a dead body.  And that thought certainly didn’t help her anxiety.
Her escorts ushered her through another door, also thick and steel, and into a clearing filled with sheer chaos.  JoJo ran past in a pirate costume- Lorel only recognized her because she wore the same glittery, purple boots- and a leopard cub wearing a miniature cowboy hat nipped at her heels.  Several other children, some of whom were on four paws, frolicked in a giant leaf pile at the other end of the clearing.
In the center there was a las-fire.  Most of the adults either stood in groups or sat at tables off to one side.  At one edge, far from the kids and the tables, the rest were playing a game of football.  Full contact, of course.
All in all, it was a far cry from the church gatherings her grandparents had dragged her to.  And yet, if not for the fact that they were strangers, both sides of her nature felt a curious sense of rightness, like she was home.  She shut that in a box and locked it tight before she could analyze that.
Lorel managed to follow tree-man and tall, dark, and deadly over to the tables to deposit the treats.
“Welcome to the madhouse.  Beer?”
She had to do a double take.  The man who had come up on her left with a couple of longnecks was probably the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, with deep aquamarine eyes that contrasted against flawless, brown skin.  It was the fine angles of his face combined with the lithe musculature of his body that gave him the unreal perfection of a model. Although she preferred people who were more rugged, she could still appreciate a pretty face.
Then she had to mentally slap herself.   Don’t fall for the bait .
“Um, no thanks,” she blinked, still attempting to process the pandemonium.
“Cider?”
“I don’t drink.  Look, I think I’d better go.”  Lorel took a step backward and ran into a wall.  A tall, warm wall.
“Runnin’, catin?” the wall rumbled in that lyrical accent.  Hairs along her arms and the nape of her neck stood at attention and she had to repress a shudder.
“Hardly.”  She turned to Remi with an arched brow.  “I would hate to trespass. I know that ruffles your fur the wrong way.”  She wanted to clap a hand over her mouth before any other snarky comments spilled out of her.
To her surprise, he merely chuckled.  Her ocelot cocked its head in confusion, having been hunkered down in a defensive crouch.
Before she could marshal her scrambled brains into some form of order, a little boy of maybe four or five clambered up Remi and clung to his back.  Without looking, the alpha put a hand back to steady the climber.
“Hey peeshwank.”  Ok, wow, that smile was dazzling enough to make even the model seem drab in comparison.
In response, the boy roared at the top of his lungs and bit Remi’s shoulder.  Since he was in human form, his mouth didn’t even fit around the hard curve of muscle, let alone do any damage.  If anything, Lorel was more worried about the child than the adult. Reaching back, Remi grabbed the kid’s ankle and hauled him around to scowl at his upside-down face.
“I’m a dinosaur!” the child giggled, his stick-straight hair hanging down in a short blonde curtain.  His free leg kicked idly so he swung slightly in his alpha’s firm, yet gentle, grip. The blue t-shirt he wore had “When I grow up, I want to be a dinosaur” blazoned across the front.
“Dinosaurs don’t bite people,” Remi scolded, a gleam dancing in his eyes that couldn’t be hidden by his glare.
“Is it ‘cuz they’re dead?”  The boy feigned innocence, widening baby blues that probably had gotten him out of trouble before, but it was his huge grin that gave him away.  Every adult in the vicinity did their best not to laugh, some succeeding more than others.
“Yep, ‘cuz I ate dem.”  With a growl, Remi lunged forward as if he was going to bite the soft belly that was exposed because the boy's shirt had bunched up around his ribcage.  The kid let out a shriek that quickly dissolved into giggles at the raspberries Remi blew above his belly button.
Just when the child looked like he might pass out from lack of air and the blood rushing to his head, Remi gently tossed him to the giant who’d escorted Lorel.  He caught the living projectile easily, his arms moving with the trajectory to cushion the landing. The kid shrieked with laughter and begged to be thrown in the pile of leaves.  His wish was granted, albeit from a low height, once his playmates got out of the way. Soon, the man was bombarded with similar demands from the other children.
She felt as if someone had clubbed her between the eyes with a two-by-four.  Of all the things she’d been led to believe when it came to changeling packs, none of what she had seen so far fit with that understanding.  While the two men laughed and indulged the kids, she cast about for a way to slip away without being noticed and accidentally made eye contact with Tien.
The other woman took that as an invitation to come over.
“Lorel, the cake looks great!” she beamed.  “Has anyone shown you around?”
“Um, no.”  Lorel wished she could teleport herself out of there like a telekinetic; as it was, she had no idea how to extricate herself without offending nearly a hundred predatory changelings.
“You’ve already met Angel.”  Tien pointed out the model-gorgeous man who’d offered her a drink.  He was sharing it with the woman who’d met her out front. “That’s Lark with him, her cousin Theo’s the one swamped with cubs.  And you remember Jojo.”
She gestured towards her daughter, who had joined the others frolicking in the leaves.  She disappeared in a shimmer, shifting to her leopard form, and leapt into the leaf pile.  Lorel blinked and glanced around at the adults, who carried on as if the little girl hadn’t just sprouted claws and fangs and jumped into a maelstrom of leaves and kids, some of which were human.
“You let the children run around…?” she broke off, searching for the right words.
“In leopard form?  Of course.” Tien looked at her as if anything else was unimaginable.  “She knows better by now. At least she has a spare Halloween costume,” she said with a fond sigh and rueful shake of her head.
“You’re not upset about the clothes?”  When a changeling shifted, their clothing disintegrated around them.
“Normally she gets a reminder, but I’ll let it go this time,” she shrugged with a nonchalance that had Lorel feeling like an invisible band had tightened around her chest.  “Got to pick your battles, you know? Did your poor grandparents ever have to rescue a naked cub from a tree?”
“Um, no.”
“Rescue” wasn’t the word for it.  Did everyone here know her history?  Was that why they were so keen on getting her to join?  The thought of any of these strangers pitying her had claws pressing at the tips of her fingers
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deadfricnd · 4 years
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◊ ♫ ◊— look what the cat dragged in! that’s JULIETTE ASHFORD and SHE is an around 22-year-old NEWCOMER to the store, but they’ve been in the neighborhood for 3 MONTHS. I think they are a WAITRESS AT ROSE DINER and I overheard them listening to CRUEL by ELLIOT LEE, and, I dunno man, it seemed pretty fitting. Like, call me shallow but I look at them and think of MADELYN CLINE and SMEARED MAKEUP, TENNIS SKIRTS WITH THIGH HIGH SOCKS, DIRT HIDDEN UNDER MANICURED NAILS, and, BEING FORCED TO GROW UP. (ooc info: peyton, they/them, est, 22) 
imagine if i played a character who wasn’t a bitch!! too unrealistic. i simply do not have the range.
name: juliette ophelia ashford age: 22 years birthday: september fourteenth (virgo) pronouns: she/her hair: blonde eyes: brown height: 5'6 visible markings: n/a sexual preference: bisexual virtues: pragmatic, intelligent, resilient vices: bitter, stubborn, easily frustrated
juliette was born in the upper east side! yes like gossip girl. maybe she is a blair waldorf type lowkey. she’s the only child to now divorced couple lennox ashford and odette von allmen. the situation was admittedly pretty messy. lennox ran away with a model who was twenty years his junior when she was eight years old. the last she’d heard from him was a postcard sent to her a few months ago from morocco that said the couple was expecting another child. but don’t worry juliette’s definitely over it.
odette worked as a corporate financier at breckenridge & co. which meant she was able to provide the finer things in life for her daughter. fancy private schools, summers in rome, and invitations to high profile events. she was cold and sometimes distant but juliette never held that against her. she herself wasn’t exactly the most warm and fuzzy person. they didn’t have that kind of relationship and she accepted that. 
it didn’t take long for juliette’s nanny to notice how she seemed to develop quicker than other children her age. picking up words faster, adapting her speech, asking constant questions of what she saw and heard. the list went on and her mother soon took the girl to a doctor who found out nothing wrong with her except that she was gifted.
since then, odette had done everything in her power to create juliette into a carbon copy of her. honestly, she was just happy to finally be spending time with her mother. she felt close to someone in her family for maybe the first time. they both saw an opportunity although it was for entirely different reasons. odette taught juliette she could earn affection if she did things for other people such as her. which is definitely how you raise a well adjusted child. she said she had “big plans” for her daughter.
she rebelled the normal amount for a teenager, underage drinking and bringing boys and girls into her bedroom that wouldn’t have been allowed to spend the night if anyone knew they were there. juliette looked down on her peers who would take things a step further and instead focused on her education like her mother wanted her to. after getting admitted to columbia university with flying colors and is ready to complete her ba with the very achievable dream to get her phd. 
that is until the nightmare of juliette losing all of her assets happens. 
long story short odette was proven guilty for high profile white collar crimes. she’s shipped off to prison for what feels like a lifetime and leaves juliette penniless. not being able to afford the tuition and with the university not providing aid as they didn’t want to associate with the ashford name she’s forced to drop out. 
she’s quick to get herself back on her feet as she was too stubborn to ask her father for help and her circle back in manhattan would only whisper as she walked by. juliette moved to a shitty apartment in crown heights and the rose diner was quick to hire her after being short staffed. since no one else would take her she accepted the job offer and she’s been in brooklyn ever since.
Headcanons
she has a white persian because what other cats do preppy rich girls have. his name is samson and he’s got a fairly friendly temperament unlike his owner. 
juliette’s never really...worked before. if the owner wasn’t so considerate she definitely would have been fired by now. she’ll often talk back to rude customers, forget orders, and sometimes even leave before her shift ends. she tries to be nicer since it’s all about the tips but new york tourists just make it so hard.
she’s actually fluent in swedish! it’s thanks to her mother’s side. also knows basic french and german.
her personality is generally not pleasant, which is something she’s working on. she makes snap judgements and gets irritated easily and can come off as condescending even though she has no right acting like due to her situation.
she writes letters to her mother every once and awhile but never sends them. it’s a very mixed bag of emotions.
Connection ideas
a roommate or two! after all nowhere in new york is cheap. i can’t promise she’ll be a good roommate but she will...be there. and pay her rent on time! so. 
family! cousins are welcome as always. i’d also be down for half siblings or anything like that because affair rights.
coworkers at the diner who probably have to pick up her slack.
regulars! don’t know how she’d manage that but if your character enjoys watching a disaster that could be what keeps them coming back.
childhood friend? the way i’ll say they can be rich or not. someone juliette felt very close to!! bonus points if they are rich and dropped her after she lost her money for some drama.
spare hook up?
spare ex?
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Silent Thaw Thoughts
SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKED PREVIEW. Also long.
TL;DR - BrambleFake cannot be Ashfur or any ThunderClan cat that lived at the Lake. BrambleFake may come from an era of the Clans were the Code was new and did not have all its rules in place, and was also more strictly adhered to.
I know we only got a prologue + 2 chapters, but I already have thoughts, mostly about Bramblestar-the-Fake-One. I will refer to him as BrambleFake.
As readers, we are aware of how the losing a life and returning thing works thanks to that scene in The Darkest Hour from Firestar’s point of view. While not every lost life is likely the same experience, I believe they are generally the same: you “die”, you are in limbo for a small amount of time (wherein you may or may not speak with StarClan), and then are returned to your body. We know that Firestar always retained his memories of past lives and the only confusion he suffered was in the immediate moments after regaining his breath, literally.
Now look to Chapter 2 of the leaked preview. It is told from the perspective of Bristlefrost, a presumably normal warrior with little to no insight on how the nine lives of a leader work, beyond that if they die, they come back. We can assume that most warriors don’t actually know what happens when a life is lost and returned or what that feels like, as shown by Bristlefrost in Chapter 2. If we had never, ever had the chance to see the perspective of a leader losing a life, I would agree with her, even, that maybe it’s really weird to come back.
But I know what it’s like, to a point, and so do all of us readers who read arc 1. 
Had things gone normally, Bramblestar would not have forgotten his current life. Let’s take a look at what Bristlefrost notices.
BrambleFake needs Squirrelflight: If not for knowing how these two characters work, this might be true, but Bramblestar is not a cat who needs his paw held. Bristlefrost notices that BrambleFake seems to want Squirrelflight a lot more; possibly because she has the most knowledge on the Clan, currently, and he knows to ask the deputy and not a random cat, but doesn’t know enough to be comfortable. (Sol, anyone?) It is a safe assumption for BrambleFake to make that Squirrelflight will know basically all about the Clan, and he can rely on her to fill in the blanks he has.
BrambleFake finds the camp “intriguing:” Because of her lack of knowledge about how lost lives works, Bristlefrost assumes that losing a life might make a leader forget the previous one, making everything seem strange afterwards. Of course, readers know this not to be the case, so this is a big clue to me. It means the cat in BrambleFake has not lived in ThunderClan before. I know some folks thought it might be Ashfur, but even though he lived quite a few moons ago, camp has not changed drastically. I think a new tree fell in, and...a rock slide? Maybe two trees fell in. We can basically rule out any ThunderClan cat that has lived at the lake, or any cat who has spent extended amounts of time in the ThunderClan camp at the lake.
“Is the fresh-kill pile always so poorly stocked?”: BrambleFake may just be being picky here, but it seems like he is confused by the lack of prey, maybe even offended by it, as if back in his day the pile would never be so empty.
Warriors v Clan: This one intrigues me. BrambleFake mentions that “warriors...keep the Clan healthy and strong” and that they need to be taken care of before the elders. However, we all know the Code essentially requires that a Clan take care of its elders, kits, sick, and weak first, because the warriors are strong enough to persevere. My first thought was perhaps the spirit that is BrambleFake just doesn’t give a fuck about them, a la Brokenstar. (Of course, it can’t be Brokenstar himself, he didn’t give a flying squirrel about the Code.) The story thus far has implied that BrambleFake is keen on adhering to the Code, so why would he suggest breaking it to give preference to the warriors? I raise you: the spirit that is BrambleFake lived before the Code about caring for kits and elders was made. (We’re talking the era of the 3rd leader of RiverClan.) In the Code of the Clans, the narrator mentions that “[w]e are taught to respect elders who fought for the Clan in the past...if you had asked a warrior what he or she fought for, the warlike answer would have shocked you.” BrambleFake also snaps at the medicine cats over bothering Squirrelflight, and pushes Flipclaw on why he didn’t tear up the mouse den. He seems very concerned with the wellbeing of the warriors and making the Clan appear to be thriving. Could the spirit be from an era before much of the Code was established to protect the Clans from overhunting and overworking their cats?
Forgetfulness v Clue: This is the hardest one for me, because we all know the Erins are really good at typos and not so good at plotting sometimes. At the end of the leaked preview, after snapping at Flipclaw, BrambleFake apologizes slightly at tells Dewnose that he is training Flipclaw well. However, Dewnose trained Thriftear, and both siblings are now warriors, i.e. out of training. Additionally, BrambleFake refers to Dewnose as Dewtail. Unfortunately, scouring Warriors Wikia gives no clues as to who Dewtail would be, meaning this is either a typo or a cat from BrambleFake’s living era that we don’t know about.
Lots of thoughts for a 33 page preview.
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phantommarhked · 4 years
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So this is my entry for CartoonFreakshow's Wes Weston NG contest held some time ago, they're the kids of Wes and one of my OCs, hope you guys like em! ^U^ I hope you find find the info decent ;;w;; Name: Dorothea Arany-Weston
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Species: Halfa
Orientation: Bisexual, Demiromantic
Parents: Wesley Weston and Matild Arany-Weston
Powers: Standard ghost powers, telekinesis, mild mind control, still discovering the rest
Likes: Fashion, figure skating, modelling, calligraphy, sand sculpting, experimental films, mural painting, spicy food, teamwork
Dislikes: Overly sweet food, getting dirty, lattes, unnecessary fights, lizards, history, heat, ghosts, sunburns, irresponsible people
Personality: She's more often than not the calming energy of the three sisters, she likes helping her sisters best she could. She's pretty proud of her appearance and would not be one to be humble when compliments are given, she's encouraging towards others and would gladly accept any rival she meets as a sort of friendly competition. She likes doing backhanded insults when she's insulted by someone she holds no liking to, but otherwise, she still attempts to keep an open mind to prevent herself from holding prejudices. (She sometimes fails at it.)
Backstory: She was born a human, her mother being something close to a shaman didn't really pass any of the psychic/medium powers to her, so she was pretty much just a normal kid. She was contented to just be a normal kid since she saw the famed half ghost fighting ghosts every now and again and she figured she didn't want that or anything involving the supernatural since she saw how dangerous it was.
When her sisters were born, she was three. As she grew older she took her role as the eldest seriously and she would be caught watching after her younger sisters. When her sisters showed signs of psychic/medium powers, she began looking for ways to help them control it instead of going into constant trances. As an elder sister she pretty much saw to it that whenever their parents were out either on vacation or business related trips, she would take charge easily and be able to follow their parents orders. 
She studied in Amity Park's Casper High and had been able to show her prowess at arts and that was where she got to meet one of Danny's children. Mercutio Fenton. As a child of twelve, her first instinct was to go with her father's dislike for the Fentons, so she just scrawled a note to him saying "you suck" and stuck it in his textbook. She didn't expect him to wait for her after school to try and learn why she wrote him that note. It was because of that fact that they grew closer to each other and became best friends.
As she grew older, her love for art grew and she went further with even learning calligraphy. Soon enough she began joining mural contests and sand sculpting contests. At the age of fifteen, she grew interested in figure skating and began taking lessons. This she used for inspiration for new pieces, turning it into stories for every piece she did. 
By the time she was sixteen, she began dating Mercutio and was scouted as a model, a job she gladly took up with great enthusiasm. It was the best thing she had done, but one thing just might change everything for her.
It was when Mercutio was visiting his grandparents that she was invited by him so they could look at the lab where Jack had some old ghost hunting weapons. She was there with Mercutio, they were both trying to figure out what each item was for and inspecting it when Mercutio found an ectoplasmic ray cannon. He grew curious and began fiddling with the machinery, trying to figure out if it was still functioning. It unfortunately was and he accidentally pulled the trigger, the ectoplasm going straight for Dorothea who was inspecting the ghost portal. She became unconscious and the next thing she knew, she woke at the hospital. Her father was upset with her but even more so at Mercutio - and his family...again - her mother in turn was worried and had spent the whole time trying to figure out if anything wrong happened. She spent a few days at the hospital before she went back to school. It didn't hit her immediately but when she began noticing that people sometimes panicked whenever they were talking and was calling for her name repeatedly or when her sisters would go into far more frequent trances, she began getting worried. She told her mother about what had been happening and this led to her being brought to Danny Fenton who explained to her what might be happening to her. As her powers made itself known, she began getting some lessons from Mercutio and his father on how to control them. 
She had done her best to act like nothing was wrong but she found it difficult to keep up with her modelling and figure skating so she dropped out of both. Letting out her emotions through painting and writing, she broke up with Mercutio and had shut herself in her room where she would try to control her powers in her room. Her father was reluctant to let in the Fentons but had contacted them in hopes that they could help. 
At age seventeen, she began getting a hold of her powers and she was starting to be able to adjust her time management to be able to do what she'd done before. At the same time she began helping out Mercutio and his family in fighting ghosts.
Name: Hajnalka Arany-Weston
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Orientation: Undecided, Demiromantic
Parents: Wesley Weston and Matild Arany-Weston
Powers: Psychic/Medium powers
Likes: Online and Tabletop roleplaying, sports, swimming, historical and fantasy films, renaissance art, renfairs, fantasy and historical fiction books, classical theatre, dancing, triathlons, sweet and sour foods, bragging
Dislikes: Spicy food, small spaces, insects, cats, science, being stuck inside, romcoms, high pitched voices, dolls, being late, staying indoors for too long
Personality: She appears to be a tough girl with her constant sports participation and aggressively competitive behaviour on the field but outside of that part of her life, she'd be found to be as sedate as her sisters. Of course that was not always the case since when she was younger she had a very short temper, she's fast to hold grudges and likes to get even with people that hurt her or her family. She's got some insecurities about when she goes into trances when she still couldn't control her psychic powers but as time went on she began accepting what she could about it. She's prideful of her achievements and of her family's achievements so she isn't really one to back down from a pissing contest when someone brags about what they could do. This often leads her to butting heads with different people. 
Backstory: Being the elder by fifteen minutes to her twin sister, she was the first to begin exhibiting psychic powers at a young age and she grew frightened of it, trying to hide her abilities but being unable to stop the trances or from her becoming a sort of vessel for ghosts to use. Her parents found out and her mother began helping her control those abilities while her elder sister did her best to help her out with stemming the effects of her abilities.
She always bonded with her father in sports and he encouraged her when she said she wanted to become a basketball player one day. So they'd always play with each other, and if she ends up in a trance in the middle of their game, Wes would just reassure her that it was nothing to be worried about. 
It wasn't til she was seven that her twin sister began showing signs of her abilities as well, this led to Hajnalka immediately sitting her twin down to explain to her what she needs to learn so that her abilities won't get in the way of her life.
As a child she had an interest in history and fantasy and had often had some books about either genre stuffed in her locker or backpack. As she grew older she began going to Ren fairs and to conventions as well as joining some LARPing for kids her age. She gets a bit intense though.
She joined the basketball team when she was thirteen and had kept improving  all the while trying to live a normal life even with her occasional trances.
Name: Hayley Arany-Weston
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Orientation: Asexual, Biromantic
Parents: Wesley Weston and Matild Arany-Weston
Powers: Psychic/Medium powers
Likes: Puzzle and mind games, investigative journalism, the Twilight Zone series, photography, short films, crime investigation TV shows, martial arts, sweets and pastries
Dislikes: Math, sour food, pranks, horror stories, high places, Puns, vague people, gum, getting their pictures taken
Personality: She tends to be too probing whenever she wants to get to know someone she talks to and she sometimes forgets to give people their privacy but she sometimes finds it hard cause of her curiosity. She's an ambivert though most of the times she prefers to being in the company of her family since she found that they could at least understand her when she starts rambling about various subjects. Though when someone needs help she willingly gives them her aid and would do her best to give them what they want or need. She's the more forgiving between her and her sisters. She likes to be a know it all and would often gloat whenever she was right in her assumptions, this sometimes leads to people not exactly liking her.
Backstory: She was the younger between her and Hajnalka, though this didn't really change much of their dynamic or attitude. She was a late bloomer with the psychic abilities that her twin and her mother possessed, but it didn't completely bother her since she would oftentimes spend the day reading or looking up various information that she finds helpful. And when she did develop her abilities, she gladly accepted every advice and training her family gave her, as well as the self defence training her dad taught her. She really wasn't against that.
Unlike her twin though who tried to hide her abilities, she would often use hers to help people when they want to talk to someone that had died, this though would often get her warnings from her mother who would remind her to choose who she'll help carefully. Those warnings were sometimes taken to heart, sometimes she would ignore them. Sometimes when she helps people it turns out good, sometimes, it ends up bad. Very bad. Fun Facts: -Hayley accepts payment for her psychic services through favours. -Hajnalka is a big fan of various fantasy and historical fiction books. -Mercutio and Dorothea has an on and off relationship until college where they finally go steady. -Hayley is deathly allergic to bees. -Hajnalka is allergic to shrimp. She doesn't really care though, not as if she eats the stuff. -Dorothea has a pug she named Cookiedough -Hayley likes to sneak some butter cookies to Cookiedough. -Hajnalka just wants a dog that doesn't sound like it's gonna fall over dead due to wheezing. -Wes and Matild take the three girls out once a week to spend time together as a family. -Wes is closest to Dorothea and Hajnalka, Hayley and he are close but he finds that Matild and Hayley are closer together. But he still loves all his kiddos a lot. -Hajnalka actually likes wearing old timey dresses, Hayley likes to experiment with her fashion sense and Dorothea secretly got herself a tattoo on her wrist. -Matild took Dorothea out for play dates when Dorothea was small to the Fentons. Wes would just come to make sure they're safe. -The last time the Weston family played a tabletop game, it ended with Wes being King, Matild getting murdered, Hayley fighting Orcs, Dorothea assassinating an NPC and Hajnalka laughing at her family. -Dorothea tends to stress bake. So every time there's pastries and biscuits and bread on any flat surfaces, everyone figures out her mood immediately. Dorothea, Hajnalka and Hayley Arany-Weston © Me, C-RIE-ativity
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