#this one is just sensory overload so sorry if that bugs you :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

Text

Hawks Getting Y/n Pregnant After A Rut

This was a request but I can’t find the ask where it was requested, but it certainly was requested.

Genre: fluff

Type: headcannon/drabble

Word Count: 1.7K Words

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of rut, children, vomiting, Keigo being a bit of an asshole, doctors, mentions of sensory overload, mentions of blood, crying, reader calls Kei ‘daddy’ as a joke once,

Other: I did my best to keep it gender neutral, so there aren’t any gendered pronouns used for the reader, so they could be non binary or trans masc. Also, I do plan on never getting pregnant and have never been pregnant before so I really have no experience and no qualifications to be writing on this subject so let’s just see how this turns out.

Fluff Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore @popcatx0

“Kei.”

“Nope.”

“Kei.”

“I said no.”

“I said yes.”

“Well too damn bad. I’m not carrying you.”

“It’s your damn fault I can’t walk, you fucked me for five days straight this time around, I literally can’t feel my legs. You will carry me.”

“Except it isn’t my fault I have ruts, I’m not in control.”

“It was your dick fucking me, Kei. No one else’s, so it’s your fault.”

This was a normal occurrence in the springtime, right after Keigo’s ruts. The small fight over your capabilities.

“You can walk to the bathroom yourself.” Keigo was in bed next to you, arms crossed. “It’s literally been a whole ass week.”

“You fucked me for five days!” you exclaimed. “Do you really expect me to be up and running the same amount of time after that?”

“Yes!” Keigo exclaimed. “It’s not like I hurt you or anything, you barely did anything the whole time, you’re fine!”

You leaned across the bed to glare him in the eyes, examining his slitted pupils for any sign that he might back down. You found none.

“Ughhhh fiiiiiine I’ll walk.” you groaned, throwing the blankets aside and standing up. Your legs were still sore, but you could maneuver them well enough. “Asshole.” you grumbled

“Oh yes, I’m the asshole.” he smirked, sitting back. You rolled your eyes, pausing for a moment to hold onto the edge of the bed.

“Something doesn’t feel right...” you muttered.

“Seriously, Y/n? I said I wasn’t carrying you so-”

“No, Kei I’m not joking, I feel sick.”

“I’m sure you’re just hungry.” Keigo waved you off, seemingly uncaring about your situation. You shot him another glare that he totally missed. Suddenly, you felt something move up in your body, and you launched yourself into the bathroom to crouch over the toilet.

“Babe?” Keigo sat up in bed, trying to peek into the bathroom. He blanched when he heard you gasp, and then a loud splat noise. He was on his feet in an instant, crouching next to you as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper.

“I fuckin told you...” you grumbled, and he rubbed your back worriedly.

“Boy who cried wolf!” he exclaimed “I’m sorry, baby, are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” you snapped, and he frowned. “I’m sorry, no, I’m not okay- hold up- more’s coming-”

You threw up the next day too.

And the day after that.

One the fourth day, Keigo was panicking, insisting he take you to the doctors.

“I keep telling him I’m fine, I probably just caught a stomach bug or something.” you shrugged, sitting on the uncomfortable table bed thingie inside the doctor’s office. Keigo was in the chair behind you, holding your hand.

Not for your comfort, but for his.

He hated the sterile smell of the doctors, hated the smooth white walls with charts hanging from them, too bright lights stabbing at his eyes, and the smooth way the doctors spoke was all too similar to his handlers from the commission.

You wanted to get the visit over with and get Keigo out of here before he went into sensory overload, you knew just how much he hated hospitals and doctors, and while it was sweet that he would force himself to go through it for you, you didn’t want him to.

“I keep telling them they’re not fine,” Keigo grumbled. “Look at them, they don’t look fine and I keep telling them something’s wrong but-”

“Please don’t start to fight in my office,” the doctor sighed, she glanced between you and Keigo. “I understand Hawks goes through ‘ruts’ as you would call them in the springtime, and during that time he is much more fertile than usual. Have the two of you just finished one of those ruts?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “It lasted five days this time.” Keigo nodded.

“DO you think maybe I got them sick?” Kei worried, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Keigo have you ever heard of someone getting sick after sex and not- oh oh, Doctor are you implying-”

“Yes, I am, you should probably get tested for it. We can do a blood test, they’re more accurate.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“I’ll send you to the Hematologist,”

“The what?”

“Blood doctor, Keigo. I need a blood test.”

“So I did get you sick!”

“Oh my god Keigo, no, just- we’ll see what happens.”

“Is it normal that I’m confused?”

“Unfortunately, it’s very normal.”

Keigo continued to be confused and worried for the next few days, at least until you got an email.

“Why’s this one so important?” Keigo pouted. “And why can’t I read it with you?”

“It’s the result of the blood test.” you explained, clicking on the email and scrolling past the formalities to get to the result

“So basically it’s the result of whether my cum is toxic or not...” Keigo was laying on the bed near your feet while you were sat up on your laptop.

“Your cum isn’t toxic, Kei.” you chuckled, reading through the email. “I would have gotten ‘sick’ much sooner if your cum was toxic.”

“How do you know my cum didn’t just- suddenly become toxic?” he exclaimed

“Keigo. Stop. Your cum is not toxic.” you sighed, finally reaching the results.

Your lips lifted up and you started to practically buzz with excitement. You cupped your hands over your mouth and squealed. Keigo lifted his head up, staring at you in confusion.

“Babe? What happened?” His wings twitched as you shut the laptop, setting it aside and flinging yourself at him. Your arms squeezing his midsection tight. “Ah shit- Y/n what’s going on? Why are you so happy?” He sat up, pulling you into his lap. “I’m not against you smiling and cuddling me but I am still very much confused.”

“Keigo, I’m pregnant!” you squealed, holding onto his shoulders, your face was stretched wide in a bright smile “We’re gonna have a baby!”

“Wait- what?” His face immediatelty lifted

“Yes! We’re gonna have a kid!”

“Holy shit, really?” He hands flew to your stomach “My kid is in there?” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from quivering, his hands were shaking against your stomach.

“Yes, Keigo. You’re gonna be a dad!” He let out a warbled sort of chirp, pressing his face into your neck. His breath fanned out over your skin, and you could feel moisture against it.

“I’m so happy!” he whispered, voice wavering slightly “Fuck I’m so happy with you, I- I’m gonna be a good dad for our little chick.” his hand rubbed circles against your belly. You traced your hand up to rub Keigo’s back.

“They’re lucky to have someone like you to be their dad, Kei. I love you, and I know you’ll raise our child right.” His grip in you tightened

“I- I can’t I’m just- fuck words can’t describe it, I-” He pulled away from your neck and pressed his lips against yours, you closed your eyes and kisses back, enjoying his passion. It was like however close you could be wasn’t close enough, and he needed to just be with you.

You broke the kiss a few minutes later, pulling away to cup his face. His golden eyes were full of tears, and his smile was the brightest it had ever been.

“I love you...” he whispered. “And I already love our kid.” You stroked his cheek with your finger, speechless. You kisses his nose, giggling a little.

“We’re gonna be a family,” you told him

“I can’t wait!”

After that, Keigo just couldn’t keep his hands off you, especially your belly, even while it was small, he just couldn’t keep himself from holding your belly and talking to the baby.

“Goodnight, Y/n~” Keigo pressed a kiss to your cheek, a hand rubbing circles onto your growing belly. “And goodnight Akina!”

“Keigo, we don’t know if it’s gonna be a girl, so don’t name it just yet!” you chuckled.

“But Akina’s just perfect, if it’s a girl then she’d be a lovely spring flower” he cooed, scooching down to your belly.

“Keigo, I’d be concerned if our baby was born in the springtime, that’s way late!”

“Well she was conceived in springtime!” Keigo exclaimed, pressing his cheek to your belly “Weren’t you, Akina? My beautiful daughter~”

“You don’t know if it’s your daughter or your son yet, Kei! Seriously!” you laughed at the way he spoke to your belly, running your hands through his golden tresses.

“Well if it’s a boy, what do you think his name should be?” he asked

“I was thinking Hajime, I mean this is a whole new beginning for both of us.”

“Hajime...” Keigo breathed, pressing a kiss to your belly. “My darling child, my Hajime, my Akina, my perfect child I already love you~”

You buried your face in your hands, giggling, Keigo was just too precious sometimes, you couldn’t wait to have his and your child.

“Oh! Keigo I felt something!” you exclaimed, Keigo sat up, pressing his hand against your belly.

“Was it a-”

“Yes! They’re kicking!” you placed your hand over Keigo’s, moving it so he could feel the small bursts of pressure. You heard him suck in a breath, vibrating with happiness.

“They’re so strong!” he was beaming with pride, feeling his child kick up against his hand. “I’m going to keep them so safe, they won’t cry like I have, like you have, they’ll know true happiness.”

“We’ll protect them, and when our little birdie is ready, then one day they can fly away...”

“But we’ll always be there when they need us.” Keigo pressed himself against you, kissing your neck “We’ll all be so happy!”

“Keigo, that tickles!”

“I still can’t believe it, that little chick will call me ‘dad!’”

“What, is me calling you ‘daddy’ not enough?” you joked and he laughed, pressing one more kiss to your skin before rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on your shoulder

“I love you Y/n, I love you Akina, Hajime,” he murmured, you settled into the blankets next to him, letting him cover your body with one of his wings as you absentmindedly wrapped an arm around his body.

“I love you too, Keigo. And you, my child.”

Oh my gosh

I wanna do a part two

But like- angsty?

Idfk this is just v fun-

It’s either gonna be fluffy Hajime/Akina being born and living life to the fullest

A miscarriage

Or maybe the reader dies and Keigo has to raise the child alone- which could very well result in Keigo abusing the child- AHHH SO MANY POSSIBILITIESS

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asmo-ds · 3 years

Note

Could you maybe do headcanons for an mc who has anxiety? And possibly write what the characters might do to help if mc was having an anxiety attack?

Helping MC Through an Anxiety Attack

warnings: Panic / Anxiety attacks

Summary: How the demon brothers would aid an MC with anxiety when they start to have an attack

a/n: I’m lightly basing this off of how my own panic attacks usually go and how I am usually helped by the people around me. I also only did the brothers but if you want the undateables feel free to send in another ask and I’ll get to it!

- He was prepared to deal with MC and their anxiety as their portfolio had specified their diagnosis and some basic things to avoid letting them come in contact with

- He bought lots of stress relief things in preparation for their arrival as well as some books made to aid a parent dealing with an anxious teen

- A few months into the exchange program he has grown too comfortable and stopped hovering MC, which led to them coming in contact with a trigger

- Mammon comes to Lucifer explaining what happened and how MC ran off and he hasn’t been able to find them, and Lucifer is immediately out of his office and searching the house for the human

- He finds them hidden in his bedroom closet, tucked away in the furthest corner with their eyes squeezed shut yet tears still flow freely and their breathing is loud and ragged and he can’t help but feel his heart break as they look up at him with a panicked look in their eyes.

- He crawls into his closet (his large body struggling to fit) and sits across from MC, avoiding touching them unless hey feel comfortable

- He reaches up into a box and pulls out a Rubik's Cube placing it in their trembling hands, watching as they start to fiddle with it, a focused look in their eyes

- He creates some background noise for them by talking about his day and making other small talk

- If after the incident MC doesn’t want to talk about it he is a bit worried still, but respects their decision

- If they do want to talk he will get them some tea and snacks as well as some blankets and pillows so they can be comfortable while they relive what just happened to them

- Starts bringing MC up to the human world weekly for therapy appointments / just to hang out in their natural environment

- Lucifer completely forgot to warn Mammon about their diagnosis

- So during one of his schemes they encounter something that is one of MC’s triggers, causing them to freak out

- He panics at first and is unsure what to do

- All he knows in that moment is his human is hurting and he needs to help them

- He will try to block anything but himself out of their view to limit any sort of sensory overload

- Tries to do some breathing exercises and talks calmly to guide MC

- Tries making jokes a lot to try and get a smile out of the human

- If none of this works he will just sit beside MC and let them wear themselves out

- Afterwards he will pester MC about what happened and try to get information out of them

- But when he sees how uncomfortable it makes them he shuts his mouth and opts to continue the day like nothing happened

- Has a note in his D.D.D that has a list of all the triggers he knows MC has so he can make plans around them

- Asks Satan for some human psychology books and goes to Levi to get advice since Leviathan has anxiety as well

- makes MC use an online app to talk about their anxiety (most likely an app like woebot bc i love woebot)

- He can tell the second they come in contact with a trigger

- The look in their eyes tells him everything he needs to know

- Immediately brings them somewhere secluded where he can talk them through it

- He’ll wrap them in his arms and rock them while talking about random things to take their mind off anything else

- Afterwards he talks to them about his own and they both devise plans for helping each other through the attacks

- His heartbreaks every time he sees MC in so much pain and he always feels guilty that he can’t take their pain away

- He has the most experience with panic attacks so I think he’d be really good at knowing what to do and what MC might need in that moment

- After the attack he doesn’t force them to talk he simply puts on some anime and cuddles them while they snack on different junk foods

- Every time he helps them through an attack he also feels like a hero and will be super proud of himself for taking care of them

- Most knowledgeable on human psychology, so he also is prepared for dealing with an anxiety attck

- Though he has never experienced one for himself he knows the different ways to comfort a human who is in the midst of one

- He knows when he sees MC the first time that they have anxiety just by their mannerisms

- He keeps an eye on them, at first because he wanted to study them but after a while he watched over them because he was worried and didn’t want them to get hurt

- He was the cause of the first one he witnessed because he had a temper tantrum and threw something at Lucifer while screaming

- He saw MC flee from the corner of his eye and felt annoyed with himself for scaring them

- After calming down he went to MC’s room and realized they seemed to be in the middle of an anxiety attack

- He kept his distance knowing he caused it but tried to coach them through it from afar

- Afterwards he feels really guilty and doesn’t make them talk about it

- He spoils them rotten the rest of the night and tries to keep his temper in check around them from now on

- He had a slight idea of how bad their anxiety was

- But he wasn’t expecting to see them flee the nightclub after a demon had touched their shoulder to get their attention

- He finds them out in the alley curled up behind the dumpster with their hands over their ears and tears streaming down their face

- He is a bit nervous and doesn’t want to accidentally hurt them so he just gently picks them up and heads home

- at home he puts them on his bed and brings over some super fluffy blankets and decides to pamper them for the time being

- So he does relaxing activities and beauty routines with them

- When it’s all over he is asks if they want to talk about it

- If they do he’ll listen and not interrupt once

- If they don’t he’ll try to get their mind off of everything by going on about some new trend or gossip that’s been going around RAD

- For sure goes to Satan later on to find out some things that could help MC

- He just really doesn’t want his prince/princess/baby being sad and anxious :(

- Becomes v protective in public as well since he knows most of the people around him are touchy feely people so they’d probably just assume MC was the same

- His instincts for slapping away people’s wandering hands has grown by 10000000%

- He is the softest brother out of all seven of them when it comes to emotions

- I think Levi and Belphie are the three most likely to have anxiety and he seems closest with those two, so he inevitably has learned how to help them through things

- He recognizes the sign of a anxiety attack right away

- The second he sees it he will quietly but quickly brings MC to an empty room so it is just the two of them

- He asks them random questions to get their mind off of any wandering thoughts

- His tactic is to focus them on looking for answers that require them to think hard so that they can’t think about anything besides the answers

- Beel is also a cuddle bug (literally because he’s a giant fly lol get it lol sorry moving on) so if MC is helped by physical contact he is more than willing to hold them

- After the attack he gives them opportunity to talk BUT he does not force them to say anything

- Has a little note in his phone with lists of triggers for MC, Levi and Belphie and the individual things that seem to help them

- He’s just... so soft and caring and wants everyone to be happy :(((

- I feel like Belphie also has anxiety, especially around loud noises and large crowds

- He isn’t usually awake enough to notice MC’s signs immediately

- But when he does realize he tries to release some of his sloth energy towards them to try and sedate them in a way

- If they don’t like when he does that he vows never to do it again

- But he will gladly use his powers to help MC chill

- The first time they have an anxiety attack he assumed they wouldn’t want him to be near them because of ~the incident~

- So he sends Beel in to try and comfort them

- Is shocked when Beel says MC only wants to see Belphie in that moment, but he is very happy to keep them company

- Has weighted blankets and stuff too that he will wrap around them

- Makes sure they’re 100% cozy and cuddles them while talking about random subjects in a soft voice

- Afterwards he decides that unless they specifically tell him to go away he won’t leave their side during an attack again

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tk-writer · 3 years

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Don't Mess With Mando. [Din Djarin x Reader]

You find out the hard way what happens when you irritate a Mandalorian.

Word Count: 1302

~~~~~

The Razor Crest was not a large spaceship.

There were a few nooks and crannies, of course. Most of which were so small that only the kid had hope of fitting inside.

Which meant that finding a place to hide was pretty much impossible.

Of course, you wouldn’t have had to worry about things like hiding places or where to go if you had just kept your mouth shut and your hands to yourself. He was just so fun to mess with. You couldn’t help but poke fun at the Mandalorian, the guy who was all about his business and never smiled. Well, probably. If he did, you wouldn’t have known.

“Why do you have to wear that mask all the time?” you asked during takeoff. It was going to be a long ride, so you figured why not get to know the person you had hired to bring you across the galaxy. However, you quickly learned that he wasn’t too keen on friendly banter.

“Because,” he replied in a gruff voice. “This is the Mandalorian way.”

“What’s the Mandalorian way?”

“It’s an ancient tradition of noneya.”

“Noneya what? Oh."

You furrowed your brows once you realized he was being facetious. How dare someone like him be funnier than you.

“I bet it’s cuz you’re reeeally ugly,” you cheesed, purposely pressing his buttons.

He turned his head towards you, probably glaring from beneath his headgear, and you gave him a snarky smile as revenge for his clever comeback from earlier.

Strike one.

His stubborn silence only made you bolder. As the ship sailed through the stars towards its distant destination, you grew bored and decided to pass the time by checking out his Beskar armor. Physically, of course.

"Woooow, this is so shiny,” you knocked on one of his shoulder plates and cooed in admiration. He pretended like he didn’t hear you, but you heard him sigh quietly when you knocked on it again.

“Why don’t you go play with the kid,” his suggestion sounded more like a command.

“Because I like you. And I like annoying you.”

He sighs again, this time more audibly.

Strike two.

The ship’s hyperdrive went down for an hour or so when you passed the halfway point. Luckily there were no patrol ships in this sector, but you noticed Mando was still in a mood despite having no threat of outside interference with his mission. You genuinely wanted to cheer him up, you really did. Unfortunately he saw it differently.

“Aw, come on, Mando!” you said while poking in between his chest armor plates. “We’re almost there, anyway. Now we have more time to hangout!”

He flinched when your finger poked him in the ribs. He grabbed your hand in one swift movement and held it still with a firm grip. It didn’t hurt, but you certainly couldn’t move.

“Enough with the poking,” he growled, his voice low and authoritative.

You smirked, unknowingly digging your own grave.

“I guess big bad Mandalorians have weaknesses just like the rest of us.”

“Poke me again, and there will be consequences,” he warned. It made you scoff. There was no way he’d lay a finger on a paying client. You thought it was just another one of his empty threats.

You thought wrong.

When he turned his attention back to the controls, you slowly, slowly wormed your finger into that same spot that made him jump before. He jolted like he had just been shocked with electricity, then swung his chair around to face you.

Strike three.

“Hey, what’s that look for, huh?” words fall from your mouth that make absolutely no sense as the Mandalorian rises to his feet. He’s approaching you so menacingly that you begin to think something very unpleasant will happen once he reaches you.

So you run.

You don’t get very far, since there’s nowhere to go besides the storage. Except for the kid’s hiding spot, there’s no place of refuge and no secret passage to sneak into. You’re basically a sitting duck waiting to be caught.

Heavy footsteps grow louder and louder. You look this way and that, getting more nervous as each second passes, until you suddenly feel a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist and lift you off your feet.

“I told you,” he grunts in your ear with fingers pressed into your sides. “There will be consequences.”

With your thought process in shambles, you start to babble, squirming in his grip because the feelings of his hands on your waist and his fingers softly digging into your skin is so unbearable and maddening and ticklish. Your legs dangle in the air, the backs of your ankles beating against his armor uselessly. You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or completely unaware, but either way it’s sensory overload.

“Wahahait! Let me gooo!”

He ignores you, tightening his grip ever so slightly to inhibit your wiggling. His hands cup your ribs and dig gently, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you laugh.

“AAAAAH! Heh-hey!! Don’t, ahahaha, stooop!”

He lets out a chuckle that you barely hear over your squealing and thrashing.

Oh, he’s definitely doing it on purpose.

He’s a strong guy, you have to give him that. The fact that he can hold you a few inches off the floor while tickling the shit out of you as you struggle against him is a monument to his strength. You would’ve asked about his workout routine if you weren’t so busy trying to escape this unwarranted and uncharacteristic tickle attack of his.

It's already bad, but it gets worse when he starts pinching your sides at random. Not being able to see how his hands are moving means that you can't brace yourself when the tickles slam into your brain. You beg, you plead, somewhat halfheartedly because you know he won't let go until he decides you've had enough. If you hadn't known any better, you'd think he was actually enjoying himself.

Your laughter must have woken up the kid, because after a few minutes you see a vision of green right below your feet. The tickles cease and your boots hit the floor once more, at a safe distance from the little guy of course. Mando scoops him up in his arms and coddles him like a little baby. It’s adorable, but you’re too busy catching your breath to say anything about it.

“Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

He coos in response, then looks at you with an expression of concern.

“Your dad’s… a jerk…” you say as you heave. “It’s all his fault you can’t sleep.”

He giggles once he realizes you’re alright. Mando takes him back to his hideout and tucks him in. You hear him say goodnight in a sing songy voice that’s so tooth rottingly sweet that you have to physically restrain yourself from commenting, lest you find yourself on the receiving end of more merciless tickles.

When he’s done, he turns around to look at you. God, what you’d give to be able to read his expression right now. Is it amusement? Boredom? Apathy?

“Playtime’s over,” he finally says. “We need to get moving.”

He starts to climb back into the cockpit, but stops when he hears you call out for him.

“That’s it?” you ask, a little disappointed.

“What.”

“Those were some weak consequences. If that’s all you’re gonna do, maybe I’ll keep bugging you.”

“That’s a roundabout way of saying you want me to do that again.”

“I… I never… hey!!”

You can feel your face heating up faster than a summer on a desert planet. Moments like this make you wish you had a Beskar helmet of your own.

You assume he's about to give you the cold shoulder, but instead he surprises you.

He laughs.

#mandalorian #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #tickling #mando x reader #sfw #dyn jarren #din djarin #din djarin imagine #dyn jarren imagine #goodbye i will now disappear forever #ler!din djarin

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storiesungaa · 3 years

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mobile rules & information

Since people don’t read rules all the way through i would like to preface this by saying: TRIGGERING MATERIAL WILL BE WRITTEN HERE. THIS INCLUDES BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO: INCEST, DUBCON, SUICIDAL IDEALATIONS, CHEATING, AND ANYTHING ELSE I WANT TO WRITE. BY CLICKING FOLLOW, YOU AGREE TO BLACKLIST THE TAGS PROVIDED IN THE FORM OF (trigger here) tw. DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU THINK FICTION EQUALS REALITY OR IN ANYWAY HAS ANY REFLECTION ON A MUN’S MORAL STANDING.

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side note: if you’re the type to blindly believe a callout because that’s what everyone else is doing save yourself the trouble and don’t follow me.

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Do not use me as a meme resource. Send something in or reblog from the source, please.

note: if you send memes multiple times and there’s clearly a way to continue them, ESPECIALLY if we’ve never interacted before, and you keep sending memes but have NO INTENTIONS on replying to them, I will be less likely to respond to them. memes, in my eyes, are used as alternatives to starters. if you don’t respond to them after i’ve responded to quite a few, that’s me putting work into it for no reason really, so yeah.

My triggers: Sharks. That’s it. Just tag pictures of sharks for me please

nsfw: smut will be present here. i can not play the dominant party in smut, please don't ask me too. if you don't feel comfortable with it, we can fade to black, easy peasy. i won't make myself uncomfortable for some smut. All muses involved in smut or ships are 18+. If you think that aging them up is pedophila, do me a favor and get off my blog. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

OCS: I love them. Send them my way, please!

OOC: I post ooc, sometimes quite a bit, sometimes rarely. I am human and I will act as such. I will not tag ooc posts mostly bc i’ll forget. Sorry if that bugs people but like i said, I’m human and I like to write things down and share things with the dash.

OOC note: please do not flirt with me or ask me to date you, thank you!

Shipping: all muses are LGBT+ in some shape or form so if you want to ship, just let me know. They’re pretty open to anyone, though gay and lesbian muses will stay gay and lesbian. I ship toxic pairings and incest so if that’s your cup of tea, just lemme know, and we can work something out if not? That’s alright too!!

As previously stated, all ships and smut scenes are involved with characters 18+. I will never under any circumstance write something with underage characters. Characters, however, can be aged up but are never simply just for the sake of smut. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

wait time: sometimes i can take months, sometimes seconds, sometimes days. I’m not a fast rper, please respect this.

writing: i generally prefer writing multi-para or novella. one-liners or one-paragraphs usually end up getting dropped or made into much longer threads as i have absolutely no chill.

edit: from now on any drafts that are below three paras will be deleted, i don’t have muse for short things.

End note: Do me a favor and like this post if you’ve read my rules. Not needed but deeply appreciated. Also below you’ll find important links:

MUSES & NAVIGATION & MUSE INTEREST CHECKER & SHIP INTEREST CHECKER & COMMISSIONS INFORMATION & MOBILE MUSE LIST & THREAD TRACKER

#mobile rules

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iron-mum · 3 years

Text

My Spider Sense is Shinglin’

By @iron-mum and @geekinthecorner for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: General

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark (Brief appearances from Stephen Strange, Helen Cho and Bruce Banner)

Summary:

“You feeling okay, bud?” He said, racing over and helping the teen disentangle his legs from the blanket. “A little,” Peter lied badly, unsure why he’d even bothered trying. Even his greatest attempts at white lies couldn’t get past his mentor. He’d grown to know the kid and his antics exceptionally well. “You wanna try that again with less understatements?” “Headache.” Peter started, pausing for just a moment. Tony had lingered just to see if anymore was going to come before standing up, with the intention of heading to the kitchen. He’d barely lifted his leg to take the first step when... “Spidey Sense still tingling… Not hungry… Hot.”

or: Peter mistakes shingles for a pulled muscles and suffers miserably.

Tony had a knack for knowing when something was wrong. An ingrained intuition from the copious amounts of people he had met in his lifetime had led to some pretty nifty bullshit detecting skills. The genius paid attention far more than he was given credit for, particularly when it came to the few people he held closest and dearest. Peter was adamant that if he were a Sim he would have the perceptive and observant trait, albeit his chance of learning something new from a socialisation being higher than the thirty-five percent the game offered. The duo had settled for a solid seventy percent.

So, when the very intern who praised his observational skills barely uttered more than a greeting upon sheepishly entering the lab, Tony knew something was up. Peter who was usually all beaming, charismatic grins and energetic pacing on the floor—or ceiling— had been sat in the same spot for almost an hour or so, features so tense it looked unnatural. Initially, the older man had made subtle changes to the environment they were in, lowering the music a notch and dimming the lights ever so slightly in an effort to decipher the discomfort the kid was apparently unwilling to discuss. All had proven unsuccessful.

“You okay, buddy?” Tony questioned softly, when he noticed the teen wince and wriggle from his seated position. The deciphering had been going on all morning so all that had been left was tackling the issue head on. Rather than answering, Peter put the pen down that he’d been aimlessly playing with and cupped his face in his hands, breathing harsher than usual.

“My Spider Sense has just been really acting up all day,” he hesitantly replied as he heard his mentor’s steps draw closer. “It’s been getting more uncomfortable as the day progressed.”

A cool hand tentatively cupped his neck before manoeuvring to the left shoulder and offering a comforting squeeze. Peter instantly wished the soothing touch to his skin lasted longer than the few seconds it had, an involuntary whine escaping his lips as he fought to not cry there and then at how glorious it had been.

Alarm bells were ringing in his mentor’s head instantaneously. An admission of discomfort was rare and not something to be taken lightly when coming from someone who could easily make jokes about being stabbed or hit by a truck. That in addition to a sound that resembled a small baby animal in distress had Tony’s mind in overdrive.

“You’re feeling a little peaky. Why don’t we call it a day for lab time and go up to the penthouse?” Tony offered, mentally chastising the potential for Parker luck to strike at this very moment. The kid’s aunt was away for a week with training and Pepper was abroad for international meetings. Not that he didn’t want to look after Peter, the mechanic just immediately felt awkward and three thousand percent out of his league at the prospect. There was a small sigh of relief when Peter finally meandered off his chair, the duo slowly making their way towards the elevator. The older man’s hand remained on the kid’s shoulder, thumb occasionally rubbing the teen’s neck as he seemed to be enjoying the movement.

“You take a seat on the couch, I’ll fix us up some snacks,” Tony directed as he watched Peter totter across the room before sluggishly flopping onto the sofa, one arm immediately resting over his eyes whilst the other lay across his chest and holding his left side. There had barely been a hum of acknowledgement.

Peter felt absolutely, fudging dreadful. His stomach growled in hunger as a reminder that he’d waited far too long to eat but his appetite was completely shot. Almost like his mind had dissociated from the basic needs it required. All he could concentrate on was not succumbing to the pain in his flank which at this rate had gone from dull ache to a thousand knives piercing him over and over.

Not wanting to eat and feeling like the worst human possible for not telling his mentor to stop the food preparation, Peter opted for feigning to be asleep. A difficult task in itself considering the spikes of pins and needles he’d been feeling. Amidst the all-over-body irritation was a very prominent, localised pain to his left side. The teen had put it down to a pulled muscle as he had been patrolling a lot more vigorously than usual with the school break now in full swing. Nice one, Parker.

The self diagnosis Peter provided himself meant that he’d been reluctant to mention anything to Tony prior, not wanting to be a burden over something that should have been trivial. His mentor did always seem to be dealing with more than enough on his plate anyway. With a small shiver at the feeling of bugs crawling across his skin, Peter began to second guess not providing Mr. Stark with all the details of his symptoms. After what seemed like a moment’s hesitation, a soft material was being draped over him.

Tony had clearly fallen for the fake sleeping act. Or was just too polite to call him out on it . Allowing Peter the whole sofa, he slid an armchair across so he was within close proximity to the kid and pulled out a Stark Tablet ensuring the brightness was low. The genius had used the settings on the tablet to dim the room and ensure no one disturbed them.

The teen could hear the tablets gentle thrum, the sound of Tony’s fingers delicately touching the pad and his steady, calming heartbeat. His breathing was soft and gentle, a steady tempo that Peter found himself trying to follow. He eventually yielded to drowsiness and found himself slowly falling into darkness, hoping he’d feel better after a nap.

Peter’s wake up had been particularly violent. The teen shot up after feeling an excruciating sting in his side, skin feeling like he was literally on fire. He’d swiftly fallen backwards into the cushions, mind still catching up with the body, leaving him with a sense of disorientation and overwhelmingly lightheaded. Tony was at his side within seconds, clearly just returning from the bathroom, a flare of panic in his eyes.

“You feeling okay, bud?” He said, racing over and helping the teen disentangle his legs from the blanket.

“A little,” Peter lied badly, unsure why he’d even bothered trying. Even his greatest attempts at white lies couldn’t get past his mentor. He’d grown to know the kid and his antics exceptionally well.

“You wanna try that again with less understatements?”

“Headache,” Peter started, pausing for just a moment. Tony had lingered just to see if anymore was going to come before standing up, with the intention of heading to the kitchen. He’d barely lifted his leg to take the first step when...

“Spidey Sense still tingling… Not hungry… Hot.”

“The day you’re not hungry is the day the whole country falls apart,” Tony frowned as he headed to the kitchen and ran the tap. A full glass of water and wrung out flannel later he was back at Peter’s side and very carefully helping him to sit up, the sway and unease in the teen’s movements evident.

The thought of water had Peter feeling nauseous but he knew this wasn’t something his mentor was going to back down on. He held the glass in his hands, leaving it on his lap for a moment and enjoying the cold temperature on his fingertips. The older man carefully placed the flannel on his neck and boy, was it heavenly. A final moment of discomfort dissipated and the relief was overwhelming.

“Peter?” Tony asked, tone full of a parental tone that Peter had only thought he’d ever hear from his Aunt. The flannel was off of his neck and wiping away the sweat from his face, a thumb underneath the cloth carefully gliding under his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” burst out of his lips before he could stop it when he registered the way his face had crumpled, just about holding in the tears. “I don’t want to be sick.”

"Come here, kid," his mentor offered soothingly and quietly, knowing that when Peter was this burnt out, a sensory overload could creep in and take over at any minute. And that was the last thing he needed added to the mix of symptoms. Tony placed the flannel down and took the glass from tremoring hands before opening his arms.

Peter complied, leaning into Tony, his face buried into the older man’s shoulder as one of his hands clutched tightly onto the rock band themed t-shirt. His body let out a long, shuddering breath no longer able to keep it in through fear his lungs would burst. It was a bittersweet mixture of relief and excruciating stabbing in his side again.

"I’ve got you, buddy. Nice slow, breaths for me. I’ve got you." Tony’s arms were wrapped around him tightly now, a strong grip that left him feeling protected and grounded. One hand found its way in the teen’s hair and started to massage the scalp, occasionally lifting the curls and allowing them to ping back.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the teen mumbled, face not wanting to leave from its smushed position in the older man’s t-shirt.

Acting on an instinct he had been aggressively repressing, Tony simply tilted his head down and pressed a kiss into Peter’s hair in response. All those years of being so abundantly sure he’d never had kids were well and truly buried in the past. It wasn’t necessarily that he’d disliked children or wanted to be tied down to a miniature version of himself, fragile and requiring a dependant who could at least look after themselves which wasn’t one of his strongest traits. But he also had a terrible fear of failing. Of being like Howard.

Whilst he knew he didn’t have it in himself to be so ruthless and cruel, it troubled him to no end. And even when Peter Parker had come along and wormed his way into his life in all the best kinds of ways. It had taken time to acknowledge the level of care he’d had. This young, endearing, little shit had Tony wanting to give him his all. Hell, the more weekends they’d spent together the more sure he was that Peter would in fact be his legacy. A part of his small circle of friends who he trusted like family and would fiercely protect at all costs. And despite the pair not seeming to be aware of how close their bond was, a majority of their nearest and dearest could spot it from a mile away whilst being blindfolded.

“You wanna tell me when you started feeling this funk? Do I need to speak with Helen?” Tony questioned when Peter pulled away.

“I pulled a muscle on my left side a few days ago and kinda felt off since then. The tingling has been the same, but like initially it was on and off. Sometimes it was on par with that time Vulture dropped a warehouse on me and the next, like that time I entered the building on fire to save Tiddles the tortoise. Or that time I got road rash after being dragged by a van down fifth street. Or that time Tiddles took a chunk out of my finger.”

“Alright. I’m going to be honest. That's a lot to unpack, kid,” Tony remarked when he’d managed to metaphorically pick his jaw off the ground.

“Few days of stuff. Sometimes aches, sometimes sharp shooty pains,” Peter clarified as he rubbed his nose.

“When you’re feeling better we’ll be having a chat. Particularly about this apparent arch nemesis, Tiddles .”

“Tiddles is totally my villain origin story.”

“On the subject of villains , wanna carry on watching The Big Hero 6 series? Globby has me on the edge of my seat on what he’s going to get up to next.”

“Sounds like a plan, Iron Man.”

On cue, F.R.I.D.A.Y. dimmed the lights as the TV turned on and the surround sound immediately kicked in. As the opening theme popped up on the screen, Tony was on his feet and skipping towards the kitchen to retrieve the snacks he’d prepared beforehand. He shoved a bowl into Peter’s hands, a smirk tugging at his lips when the teen immediately took a handful of popcorn and shovelled it into his mouth. The older man took a seat next to Peter, digging into a bowl of chips with a side of dip.

As the afternoon slowly turned into evening, Peter had slowly scooted towards his mentor until Tony got the hint and had shifted his arm to the back of the sofa so the teen’s head could rest on his chest. Eventually the hand that had previously been gripping the back of the couch would find its way wrapped around the boy’s shoulders and then eventually providing tender ministrations across the scalp.

The aches and protests Peter’s body had been firing off seemed to be that much easier to ignore as they cuddled. Not only was the calm heartbeat and steady breathing back to lull the teen to sleep, but he could also feel the gently hearty chuckles of Tony as well as his warmth. Like a heated blanket set to the perfect temperature. Peter succumbed to darkness with the faintest of smile across his face that the man who hated being emotionally vulnerable and often recoiled from physical contact had made an exception for him. And how freaking lucky and privileged was that?

Although Peter was feeling completely shattered, sleep did not arrive once he’d gone to bed. He’d managed to nap again on the sofa which had prompted his mentor to call it a night. The teen’s bleary eyes checked the time from his bedside clock—04:03—he let out a defeated groan. He’d certainly been drowsy, but felt like he’d been on the edge of drifting to sleep and then immediately stirring.

The usual comfort and feeling of safety of Tony’s MIT hoodie was instantly tarnished as his skin prickled with fire at the fabric being placed over it. Peter audibly gulped before creeping out of the room and heading to the lab, wanting to be in his mentor’s presence or at least find some sort of distraction.

As the doors made a gentle swooshing noise upon opening, he felt his mentor's gaze fall upon him. Peter spotted the squint of Tony's eyes as he started to study him. He definitely could tell the teen looked as shit as he felt no doubt. Bags under his glassy eyes at the level of exhaustion he was feeling and cheeks still flushed even though the ambient temperature.

“Stop analysing me please, Mr. Stark,” Peter grumbled, wishing the world would just swallow him up already.

"I can't tell if you're up early or late." Tony stated as he dropped the tools he was working on and hastily made his way towards Peter's side. The boy’s body language was screaming undeniable discomfort as he clearly started to struggle to even move.

"I tried to sleep, I really did." Peter answered more exasperated that he had meant to. He'd seen right through his mentor's statement, knowing he'd wanted to ask if he’d actually got any sleep. “I was so... uncomfortable,” the last word almost came out as a choke, breath hitching. “Everything… hurts.”

“Come here, buddy,” Tony gently coaxed as he went to embrace the young hero. One of his arms had barely made its way around Peter’s back when he’d recoiled back involuntarily at the burning sting the touch had caused. Tony took a horrified step back, arms awkwardly falling back to place at his sides. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh God. Oh G- I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” he gasped as his face crumpled and a frown replaced the forced neutral ‘ I’ve got this’ look.

“Peter…” Tony started, but stopped as the words barrelled out of his mentee, emotions all over the place.

“Something’s wrong with me. I don’t know why… Everything hurts… And now. Now…”

“Take a breath, kiddo. Nice and easy,” Tony instructed as he took a single step towards the teen. “Let’s get you somewhere comfy and then we’ll get you checked over, okay?”

Peter managed a weak nod, rubbing his nose on the sleeve of the hoodie and followed, trudging slowly as a bone-deep exhaustion dictated his every step. The teen didn’t recall the trip in the elevator nor getting to the sofa. Almost as if it had been a blip in time, not even a blurred feeling or sensation, just missing.

“You’re making me a little nervous, Underoos.” Tony’s voice cut through the mental fog. The tone hadn’t been condescending in any manner. Just an honest admission, hoping to catch the boy’s attention.

“It’s got worse. So much worse.”

“Fri, temperature?”

“38.7. This is up from 37.8 yesterday,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. notified, the duo both cringing at the change.

“Alright, I’m pulling rank, we need to get you checked over,” Tony decided, not wanting to take any chances with worsening symptoms. Particularly when fever was now added into the mix and his Spiderling had next to know thermoregulation.

“Wait… Wait. Could we try super soldier strength Tylenol?” Peter pleaded, giving his best puppy dog look. At this rate he was happy to put on the Peter-Pity-Party-Parker charm if it meant avoiding the dreaded medbay.

“I catch even a whiff of you getting any worse and we’ll be in the medbay quicker than you can say super soldier strength, again. Oh, and you’re having some food,” Tony conceded reluctantly as he left the kid’s side to grab the medication.

“Take these,” he requested handing over the pills once they’d been procured. “I’m going to make some toast.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled. He briefly allowed his eyes to close as he listened to his mentor potter around the kitchen, cupboards being opened and utensils being sought. The noises reminded him of the domesticity of home life with May as she’d scramble to prepare last minute lunchbox snacks for the pair of them.

His mentor returned a few minutes later with two toasted peanut butter and jam sandwiches in hand, Peter’s eyes slowly opening as he took the plate. After the first bite he let out a hum of satisfaction. Everything about it was perfect; the way the toasted bread crunched when he took a bite, the warm peanut butter coating his mouth, the tangy sweet from the strawberry jam.

By mid-morning, Peter had drifted off to sleep and Tony once again found himself watching over him. The teen’s vitals were up in the top right of his tablet, scrutinizing eyes narrowing when it had slowly started to creep back up. The agitation to touch had shortly followed as Peter would suddenly jerk and grunt.

Tentatively, Tony lightly brushed the damp curls sticking to his mentee's forehead away so he could lay a damp cloth across it. The teen let out a whimper the moment it touched, body shivering violently at its exaggerated interpretation of the coolness. The lengths Tony would do to take away the pain and discomfort for his kid couldn’t even be put into words.

They were back up to 38.7 by lunchtime. Not that Tony had seen. The tablet in his hand was precariously dangling from one hand the other still buried in Peter’s hair. Exhaustion had well and truly settled in and he’d drifted off despite all the coffee he had consumed.

An ear piercing screech and wild arm being thrown into his face woke Tony from his nap. He practically fell off the sofa as his mind tried to process what the fuck was happening. Animalistic cries, screams for help and an arm hitting him again from his position on the ground was enough to spring the words emergency into his mind.

“Fri! Call every doctor right now!” Tony said harshly, the words tumbling out of his mouth. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds from the request when orange flecks appeared in the room and then a portal was opened by Stephen Strange.

“List of symptoms?” was all he said, saving the greeting for later when he saw the deathly pallor of Peter’s skin and the twitchiness of Tony meaning a panic attack was likely right around the corner.

“Skin has been tingling yesterday and today but isn’t his Spider Senses. Fever, loss of appetite, sensitive to the lightest touches and a pain to his left side. Mixture of aches that range from being bitten by a tortoise to being hit by a truck,” Tony was rubbing his eyes profusely, desperately wanting the sleep to remove itself from his weary features. The doctor had perked a brow at the last sentence but quickly decided what he wanted to do next.

“Peter, I’m going to lift your shirt,” he informed, not meaning to ignore Tony but just needing to get straight to work with the triage. “Actually, could you lift it Tony? I don’t want… my hands to make this any worse than it’s going to be if he’s touch sensitive.”

Tony was quick to comply, hating the few seconds it had taken as Peter’s face scrunched into an anguished grimace at the feeling and his whimpering turned into ragged sobs. The raised, blotchy red rash across his side was clear as day. It looked like a nerve branching across his chest, angry looking blisters scattered throughout it’s hostile takeover of his pale, clammy skin. Dashing footsteps from the hall alerted the trio that more medical personnel had arrived in the form of Bruce Banner and Helen Cho.

“I think it’s shingles. We’re going to need a gurney,” Stephen called out briskly, not wanting to waste any time. A rash meant it was potentially already a few days into the virus taking hold so precious time had been wasted for optimum effectiveness of the antivirals. The doctors skidded to a halt, well aware a gurney would be just seconds behind them courtesy of F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s assistance. “Fever, malaise, hyperesthesia, vesicular rash spreading from left flank.”

If Tony thought it had been unbearable watching Peter be transported onto the gurney and swiftly taken to the medbay. Then it had been an absolute living nightmare to see him be poked and prodded, IV needing to be in place to provide the fluids his body needed and the administration of pain medication that would help dull down his senses and hopefully allow him to rest. Bruce had tried to keep him at arms length to give the medical personnel the space they needed but that had lasted mere seconds.

Peter's body was stiff and twitching involuntarily, his back arched awkwardly as he writhed in brutal agony. The teen's face was contorted in pain, eyes slammed shut and mouth slightly open as he took gasping breaths laced with cries and incoherent mutterings of pleads for help. Hot, uncontrollable tears streamed down the side of his face and God did Tony want to wipe them away but he knew even the faintest of touches had felt like chemical burns to the kid.

The morphine was due to take effect at any moment, but until then Tony felt like a useless entity within the room. Peter's hands gripped onto the sheets and tore them instantly. There was a risk that the IV was going to be yanked out if the flailing didn’t stop.

"Dad… Dad…" Peter bawled, no longer capable of riding out the searing pain in solitude. Tony short circuited. The room froze. "Dad!" the teen again screamed when there had been no response despite the multiple blurred forms within the room seeming to hear him.

Fuck this. Tony had pushed past Bruce, not enough to harm him in any way, just enough to give him the space to get to his kid’s side. One hand was placed on the mattress of the bed and the other eagerly wanting to stroke the boy’s head but sitting next to the pillow instead.

“I’m here, kiddo. I’m here,” he assured as best as he could, voice on the edge of breaking.

In a move apparently out of his control, Peter’s hand lashed out and grabbed his mentor’s wrist. Quickly, the pads of his fingers dup deep into the flesh, unable to control his enhanced abilities whilst so delirious. The first crunch of bone had Tony biting down on his lip, desperately attempting to remain stoic for Peter’s sake. But then the bones grinded and he let out a pained gasp.

“Peter,” He managed as he deeply inhaled in an effort to sound as self-controlled as possible. The tight clasp started to loosen, as the teen’s movements slowed and his eyes looked almost vacant before they closed. Tony had taken a staggering step back once it had been clear, unsure if it was motivated by the searing pain of his now broken wrist or because there was the pressure of someone’s hand on his shoulder leading him away. He’d barely made it to the hallway still unsure who he was following when his knees buckled and the world around him became a bleak blur.

In his catatonic state, Tony wouldn’t remember the scans and treatment of the newly broken bone. His exhausted body would simply shut down and he’d fall asleep, itching to fend off the feelings of panic stricken shock and complete, unrivalled fear. When he did rouse, Bruce and Stephen had been there to let him know how his mentee was before informing him of the damage that had been inflicted. A broken wrist was nothing when he found out Peter was now on enough medication to allow a pain-free rest.

The first conscious memory Peter had in the fog of his slow awakening was the dry taste in his mouth and beginnings of nausea creeping up on him. Despite his body protesting he attempted a small movement, wincing as he did so. His head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton as he slowly lifted his arm to rub his eyes before attempting to open them. When his sense of smell returned and the stench of harsh disinfectant and latex burned his nostrils hit, his eyes opened far too quickly and far too widely.

The teen’s attention was quickly drawn to the presence to his left. Tony was slumped in a chair at such an incredibly awkward angle it was sure to cause neck ache when he woke up. A cast-clad wrist was loosely folded across his chest as the other arm seemed to loosely cradle it. Gentle snoring would usually be comforting for Peter, but his eyes kept drawing back to the cast with a dreaded sensation in the pit of his stomach that he had been the one to cause of it.

Peter moved again, hissing at how incredibly touch sensitive he seemed to be. It was as if he could feel every individual fibre of the bedding around him. Despite the noise being barely audible, Tony started to awaken. The older man had gone to move too sharply, clearly moving his sore arm too quickly and boy could Peter not take his eyes off of that cast.

“There’s my favourite young adult,” Tony greeted gently as he awkwardly shifted to pour a small jug of water into a cup, the casted hand barely keeping it in place. He did his utmost best to remain passive faced despite how tedious the task now felt to him and he could feel Peter’s hard pressed stare on him and the arm. Plopping a straw into the cup he brought it to the teen’s mouth. Peter had wanted to gulp it down the moment he felt the plastic touch his lips, swigging greedily as the water soothed his parched throat and mouth.

“How are you feeling, Pete?” Tony asked once he’d finished, placing the cup to the side. Lordy, did his kid look so small in the hospital bed.

“A little high,” Peter confessed after assessing himself and spotting the cannula in his hand. “A little sore… Mr. Stark…?”

“If you need any more painkillers than just let me know and I can get Cho. They’ve got you on the good stuff,” Tony was completely aware that sore was likely overriding the high feeling. Because he’d seen Peter high on pain medication before. It tended to involve a big goofy smile and eyes bug-eyed wide. There’d even been the occasional moments where he thought he could fly and would flap his wings whilst making whooshing sound effects.

“What happened?” Peter asked so innocently and child like, a reminder of the young hero’s age. Tony had to steel himself for the inevitable conversation that was about to go down. Because he knew what the kid was like. Knows that the kid can’t stop taking his eyes off the cast.

“You got a one way rare ticket to getting shingles. Not common for your age bracket and Spideyness but. We know what you’re like when it comes to contracting the weird and wonderfu-”

“I meant... what happened to your arm?” Tony looked down at it before meeting the teen’s eyes.

"Alright, so don't freak out on me. You did nothing wrong…" The older man began, quickly being interrupted by an even paler looking Peter.

"Oh God…"

"Ah-ah. Listen to me, Peter." Tony requested firmly, as he placed a hand over Peter’s and carefully gripped. He needed to show there was still respect and most importantly trust. Needed the boy to be grounded and to focus if this wasn’t about to turn into an emotional shit show. "Please."

There were tears welling in Peter’s eyes that he had no chance of fighting. Lacking the confidence in his own voice to not crack he simply nodded.

"You were off your face, quite literally, with a fever whilst a virus attacked your nerves. You were not in control. And it was an accident." His mentor’s voice was tender, sympathetic with just a touch of authority. His eyes were full of love and conviction that stunned Peter momentarily whilst he absorbed the information.

"I'm so sorry, Tony,” the teen rasped, barely holding himself together. The kindness he was being shown felt unwarranted and undeserving.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, buddy. I know exactly how you’re feeling. I know you’re playing the blame game right now because I’ve been there. I-I-Pepper was almost attacked by a suit because of my actions whilst I was asleep. It’s undeniable logic that I wasn’t even conscious so how was it my fault? But I let it eat away at me and she had to snap me out of that deep guilt-trip-well big time. I know you, Peter. I know you’d never hurt me. And nothing could hurt more than seeing you in pain and being utterly helpless to make it better.”

The stiffness in Peter’s hand finally released and his hand gently took hold of Tony’s thumb. The teen shifted into a seated position, his mentor standing as he did so before leaning over the bed and offering a hug. Peter accepted the embrace, the determination in the movement and lack of flinching from the older man serving only to affirm that he didn’t fear the boy.

“Alright, move over, Young Buck. Your old man can’t stay bent like this for too long.”

With his mentee shifted out of the way, Tony scooted onto the bed and raised an arm immediately. Peter showed just a hint of hesitance before snuggling in, an arm placed across Tony’s lap and his head on his chest.

“I don’t know what to say,” Peter admitted, the latter of the sentence slightly slurring as he started to drift off in the safety of his mentor’s arms.

“Get some rest, Peter. I’m sure you’ll make up for the lack of talking once we get back in the lab,” Tony mumbled before a thought crossed his mind. “In fact, you get to fill me in all about Tiddles once you’re up and ready. That tortoise is on thin fucking ice.”

The teen half smirked at the comment, though no words formulated as sleep took a hold. Deep breaths soon turned into soft snoring. The older man’s fingers slowed their movements before coming to a halt as he planted a tender kiss into the teen’s hair. As he started to feel himself succumb to exhaustion he requested that they only be disturbed if it was a mandatory check up or emergency.

“Love you, dad,” Peter whispered so softly it was barely audible. Even in his exhausted state, Tony’s chest filled with overwhelming joy and happiness.

“Love you too, buddy,” Tony replied with a content, sleepy smile on his face.

#friendly neighborhood exchange #tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #fic exchange #sickfic

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lotusss-flowerbomb · 3 years

Text

My Hero

Clark Kent x reader

Warnings: Smut

Disclaimer: There is unprotected sex in this story, so remember a condom a day keeps them babies away!

*divider by @writeyourmindaway*

Word Count: 2,302

********

You were pushing your cart through the grocery store and scanning the many items you knew that you didn't need.

"This is why we never shop on an empty stomach," you said to yourself.

When you reached the end of the aisle your cart hit a man's legs.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?"

"It's okay, I'm fine," a small laugh escaped his lips. "Y/N?"

You finally looked up at him, "Yes?"

"Wow, I thought that was your voice that I'd heard."

"My voice?" You asked, confused.

Blue eyes, wide grin, deep dimple in his chin.

"Clark?" Your eyes were wide with realization.

"It's me," he said.

"No way, look at you," you scanned him from head to toe. "You've come a long way from the scrawny kid who I used to walk home with from school."

You threw your arms around his neck for a hug and quickly pulled away. You would swear that you could feel every muscle in his rock hard body.

"So, uh, when did you get back in town?" He asked.

"Few days ago. My dad retired and moved to California. He's left getting rid of the house, to me of course."

"I'm surprised he left. He loved that house."

"Yeah, well, he says he needed a change since my mom passed away, but I think this Superman guy just freaks him out a little bit," you shrugged.

"Understandable," he replied.

"Well, um, how about you come over for dinner tonight, so we can really catch up?" You suggested.

"Oh, no, I couldn't impose."

"Why not? You got big plans for those TV dinners?"

He looked down at the four Hungry Man meals he was holding.

"That's what I thought. I'll see you at 8pm, Kent." You pushed your cart forward to the checkout line.

He watched as you walked away. Willing himself not to use his x-ray vision to look through your clothes.

Clark showered quickly when he got home. He looked through his closet and cursed himself. How many flannel shirts does one man need? He settled on a blue and gray shirt and pulled it on.

"Where are you going?" Martha questioned him.

"Uh, you'll never guess who I ran into today. You remember Y/N?" He asked his mother.

"Of course, I do. How could I ever forget the sweet girl who walked my baby home everyday to save him from bullies?" She patted his cheek and laughed.

"Funny," he mocked her. "She invited me over for dinner tonight, so I needed to change."

"Oh, well, that's good. You haven't been out since, um... ever."

"Ma, it's really just old friends catching up. It's not a date."

At least, that's what he'd said out loud, but his racing heart was telling a different story. Martha raised an eyebrow and turned to leave. She didn't need enhanced senses to know her son was telling a lie.

Clark thought back to the day the two of you had become friends. He was a grade ahead of you, so you never really spoke until...

You trailed behind the crowd a bit, as always, with your black Cane Corso, Tiny in tow. He was massive, so his name definitely didn't match, but when he was just a puppy, he was so tiny that you carried him zipped up in your hoodie wherever you went.

Every day, Tiny would come to the school and sit with the parents waiting to pick up their kids. Even though he was huge, he was a sweetie and everyone loved him, so no one ever complained about him running around alone.

When the group ahead of you reached the junkyard. You heard Jessie, the school bully, telling Clark to get out of the truck. Once you reached the yard, you saw Jessie throw Clark to the ground and raise his fist as if he was gonna hit him.

"Come on, fight back! Get up, Kent!" He yelled at him.

"Why don't you leave him alone, Jessie? He doesn't want to fight." You said from behind them.

They all turned to look at you.

"Hey, stay out of it and mind your business!" He pointed at you.

"Make me," you said.

Tiny growled and crouched low to the ground when Jessie took a step towards you. You stayed in your spot as he slowly walked towards the other kids and came to a stop right in front of Clark.

The group backed away slowly with their hands lifted in surrender.

"I don't want to see any of you bothering him again, got it?" You asked.

"Y-y-y-yeah. Yeah, I got it. Just call him off."

"It's okay, Tiny, let them go," you walked closer to your dog.

He was almost as tall as you were sitting on his haunches.

You made a hand motion for them to go and they all practically ran away. You turned to help Clark off the ground and brushed some dirt off of him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said softly.

Mr. Kent made his way over to the two of you. Tiny wagged happily and waited for a few pets from the older man. He ran off plenty of times to the Kent's farm to play with their dog Hank. Plus, he and your father had known one another since childhood.

"I'm not sure how you resisted the urge to break his face, but good for you," you said before waving at Mr. Kent and telling Tiny to come along.

From that day forward, you and Clark had been inseparable. He'd walk you home and then head to the farm.

You'd developed a crush on him as the years went by, but never spoke up about it, because you learned very early that nothing was worse than losing your best friend over a failed relationship.

Besides, once he graduated, he took oddest jobs doing manual labor. It caused him to be gone for months at a time and you knew that wasn't a life you wanted, so after you graduated, you went out of state to college in Metropolis and got a job there.

Clark clutched the bottle of wine in his hand as he knocked on the door. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous. He'd been to this house dozens of times.

"Hey," you greeted him when you opened the door.

"I brought wine," he held up the bottle.

"Thanks, the food is almost ready, so have a seat and I'll be right back." You hurried off.

Once the two of you sat down for dinner you laughed and talked as if you had never parted ways. He was still the same old goofy Clark Kent that you remembered.

You were now on the couch with your legs comfortably tucked behind you and staring into his eyes.

"What?" He asked nervously.

"Nothing, it's just been so long since I've seen that smile. I'm enjoying it."

His face turned red as he blushed at your compliment.

"I do have a question. Something that's been bugging me all day," you scooted closer.

"What's wrong?"

"You never wore glasses when we were growing up. In fact, you could see so far down the road that I thought you placed things just to be funny."

"What? No, I... um, I had an accident on a job site. There was fire and I was a little close. Messed with my eyesight a little...bit." He stammered over his words.

"You always were such a terrible liar, but I'll let it slide, because you're cute." You sipped from your glass.

"You think I'm cute?" He asked, shocked.

"Yes, I always have," you admitted.

"Really? Why haven't you ever told me that?"

"Oh, please, Clark, like you didn't know that I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids," you rolled your eyes.

"No... Well, I — uh... didn't know for sure."

"Mmm hmm," you straddled his lap. "I know you can hear the way my heart beats faster any time I'm near you." You grabbed his hand and pressed it to your chest.

He shifted beneath you. No doubt trying to will himself not to get an erection.

You swivel your hips ever so slightly. To a normal man, that would have been nothing. But to Clark, it was damn near a sensory overload.

He threw his head back and clamped his eyes shut.

"I know that you know how wet I am for you right now," you lifted your dress and dipped your fingers inside of your panties, swirling your wetness around with your fingers.

He was no longer able to contain his erection.

"Look at me," you said.

He opened his eyes and looked at you. You brushed one of your slick coated fingers over his lips before kissing him softly.

"What are you doing?" He was finally able to ask.

"Whatever I want," you said and slid his glasses off of his face.

He looked nervous. You may recognize him without his glasses, so he quickly kissed you.

You trailed soft kisses from his neck to his ear. Biting the lobe once you reached it.

The soft sigh that he released turned you on even more as you grinded into him again.

He shifted his position, so he could lie you flat on your back.

"Can I taste you?" He asks.

He didn't wait for you to reply. He pulled your already soaked panties to the side and licked at your center.

"Ssss, ooh," you hissed.

You threaded your fingers into his hair and grabbed on to those jet black curls. Rocking your hips slowly as he alternated between licking your clit and sucking it into his mouth.

First you felt one finger slide inside of you and shortly after another followed.

"Yes, baby, don't stop," you moaned.

Clark watched your face as he pleasured you. The way you bit your bottom lip and gripped his hair forced him to buck against the couch cushions for a bit of relief.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm neared, but felt your body being lifted and turned. Before you could grasp what was happening, Clark was now on his back and you were riding his face.

You grabbed on to the arm of the couch and placed one foot on the floor and the other by his head.

"Stick your tongue out," you instructed.

When he stuck his tongue out, you lined it up with your needy cavern and let him fuck you with it. You used your other hand to rub your clit and once again your orgasm was nearing.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You chanted as the familiar feeling washed over your body.

Once again, he readjusted you as if you weighed nothing, bringing you face to face with him. You kissed him again. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues connected.

"Fuck me, Clark, please?" You asked as you unbuttoned his pants and wrapped your hand around his thick throbbing shaft.

He groaned loudly as you stroked him. When you were about to lower yourself onto him he stopped you.

"Wait, I," he cleared his throat, "I've never actually, um, gone all the way..." He admitted.

"I find that very hard to believe with the way you just ate my pussy."

"I learned from... ya know..."

"Good," you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Making sure to keep eye contact as he stretched you wide. "I'm sure you learned how this goes too."

He held on to your hips as you bounced up and down on him. Then he grabbed up the fabric of your dress and ripped it. Kissing the newly exposed globes of your breasts.

He turned you on your back. Lifting your leg high and pushing himself deep into your pussy. Giving you everything that he had.

He tucked his face into your neck as he fucked you.

"Yeah, that's it. Give me that dick, baby," you whispered.

"You feel so good," he groaned.

The closer he got to ecstasy, the more vocal he became.

"Shit!"

"It's okay baby. Give me all that cum. Can I have it?" You asked sweetly.

"Yes!"

"Mmm, yesssss," you clawed at his back as you started cumming. Your pussy tightening around him.

His body started to spasm as he released his load inside of you.

You held on tight until he stopped moving and you loosened your grip. It was only then that you noticed that you were floating in mid air.

"Clark!" You yelped and grabbed onto him again.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I've got you," he slowly lowered your bodies back down to the sofa.

He pulled out slowly and laid his head in between your breasts taking in the moment. You twirled one of his curls around your finger.

You felt his body suddenly start shaking from laughter.

"What's so funny, Kent?" You asked.

"You just had sex with the kid that you used to protect from bullies. You were my hero,” he said.

"No, I just had sex with the grown man that saves planets."

"So, how long have you known?" He questioned.

"Since the moment I first saw you on TV," you replied.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't already known, you recognizing my voice from the other aisle when I clearly whispered to myself would've been a dead giveaway."

"Not to mention the whole flying thing just now," he added.

"Exactly," you giggled.

You finally got up before ruining the couch and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bathroom. He looked a little confused at first.

"Surely, you have at least one more round in you, Superman?" You teased.

"I've got as many rounds as you can take," he lifted you and walked up the stairs to the bathroom.

#Clark Kent x reader #Superman x reader #Smut #dc #Clark Kent #Superman #dc smut

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wielderofmysteries · 4 years

Text

Jace Beleren, Masculinity, and the Trans Experience

(This post is a Twitter thread I wrote in response to a Goblin Lore podcast episode called “Jace Beleren and Toxic Masculinity”.)

I feel I have a unique perspective on this topic as a trans man. Trans man Jace isn't my headcanon, but it's an interpretation I love. He's my favorite character of all time, and as a trans man, I feel like reading Jace's flaws as toxic masculinity isn't quite right.

There are several "pillars" of toxic masculinity that Jace doesn't have. He doesn't have the self-destructive emotional repression, worship of sex and violence, or desire to subjugate women and his peers that men who experience toxic masculinity have.

Even BEFORE Ixalan, Jace was an example of many positive masculine traits. He was curious and emotionally open. He wrongly believed he could make decisions for others, but he cared for people, wanted to protect them, and couldn't sit idly by when he knew people were in danger.

In Agents of Artifice, he financially provided for Kallist and Liliana, and in Magic Story invited the Gatewatch to live in his home. Jace wanted to heal Garruk, tried to stop his rampage and had a Hedron implanted in Garruk's shoulder to relieve the effects of the curse.

"I don't want to hurt you, Garruk."

"Lucky for me, I don't feel the same way."

"Garruk, this is not a fair fight. You've suffered enough. Please. Come with me."

[...]

Jace stood in thought. Garruk held him by the throat, could end his life in an eye blink, had already proven he was immune to Jace's illusions. Garruk laughed again. If Garruk was open to having friends, then Jace might have been a good one.

"You win," said Jace. "We will leave you alone. I will not seek you out. But please, if you change your mind, come find us on Ravnica. Something is still not right here. We can help you."

In "Revelation at the Eye" Jace tells Ugin that Zendikar isn't a puzzle to be solved, and that it didn't matter if killing the Eldrazi has consequences, there are real people on Zendikar fighting for their lives and he needs to help them.

"Zendikar isn't a puzzle to be solved," said Jace. "It's a place. It's somebody's home. And those people are out there, right now, fighting for their world and wondering if anybody's going to help them kill what's killing them."

He showed scenes of suffering, then—of families mourning the lost, of landscapes ravaged by Ulamog, of even the skies and seas teeming with the Eldrazi menace.

Ugin cocked his head. The hedron architecture of the chamber seemed to melt and flow, became a pattern of tessellating dragons mocking him from the walls.

"So certain," said Ugin, "and so young."

Ral Zarek tried to kill Jace and ruined his relationship with his close friend Emmara, but in "Project Lightning Bug", Jace forgives him. Jace is honest about his feelings with Ral even after Ral was openly rude to him.

"I don't remember home," Beleren said quietly, unbidden.

"What?"

"You talked about growing up in Ravnica. A lot of my memories from my childhood are gone. Chopped up in my head into a few impressions. Most of what I remember begins here, on Ravnica. I'll never have roots here the way you do, and I admit I'm off to other planes a lot. But I think of myself as Ravnican to the core, too."

In Kaladesh block he wanted Chandra to be able to confide in him, and didn't want to stay home when he heard she could be in trouble. He used his mind magic to help Nissa sleep when she had a sensory overload in the busy city.

Nissa looked up. Jace and Gideon were exchanging a look. Both glanced at her.

They stood as one.

Jace turned toward the coat room. "I'll head to Kaladesh. It should be easy for me to—"

Lavinia appeared in his path, one hand resting on the pommel her sword. "Again?" she said, in a weary, disappointed tone.

He frowned up at her. "You can't expect me to sit here and do paperwork!"

Across the streets, beyond the barricades, the Consulate's panharmonicons are still blaring "The Gremlin's Wedding March" at us on infinite repeat at double speed. They left them on all night, and after the moon set Nissa started crying, hands clamped over her ears.

[...]

Jace sat down with her. They talked a minute and his eyes flashed. She curled up in a big potted plant and didn't wake up until the sun fell on her.

But what does being a man mean to Jace Beleren? Well, take a look at his feelings towards Gideon. Jace saw Gideon as the male ideal. I think Jace admires (and is envious of) the way Gideon is a representation of positive masculinity.

Eyes widened, jaws set. They understood their task, he was certain of that. But were they actually prepared to perform it?

What would Gideon say?

Jace smiled. Of course.

"For Zendikar," he said, raising one fist in the air. It felt thin to him, lacking Gideon's armored fist, his baritone war cry, his iron conviction.

None of that mattered. The soldiers shouted as one voice, holding their weapons aloft.

"For Zendikar!"

Gideon is not violent or hypersexual. He's kind, not afraid to ask for help, a defender rather than an aggressor. The pillars of toxic masculinity are absent in both Jace and Gideon. So why does Gideon's mere presence make Jace insecure? I think that insecurity is dysphoria.

I'm only 5 feet tall. People treat me like a kid, think I need help, and certainly don't see me as a man because I'm very small. It feels bad knowing my looks don't inspire others or make them feel safe like big tall guys can.

Gideon is super tall, muscular, conventionally attractive. He's charismatic and a natural leader. Gideon's like a human lighthouse. Jace is average height, out-of-shape, often pale and sickly, and his telepathy makes people automatically distrust him.

It's easy to see why people follow Gideon's lead so easily rather than Jace's. As a trans man, I personally related to Jace's insecurity. He feels inadequate compared to Gideon.

"I'd rather stand," said Gideon.

Jace stood up. It was an error. He still had to crane his neck to look Gideon in the eye, and now the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. He hated feeling small. Hated it.

Jace wanting to lead the Gatewatch didn't come from a desire to dominate others and be an ~alpha male~, but from a desire for people to believe in him. What Jace really wants is to prove to himself and others that he's competent and that he can be trusted.

This vision appeared whenever the man was struggling at a task.

[...]

"Listen, you aren't really suited to this task. Let me handle it." The vision's voice was gruff but friendly.

It came off as condescending.

The man was annoyed.

"I can do it myself."

The hallucination sighed. "You and I both know you're not suited to this. Let me handle it, you go philosophize on the other end of the beach."

"I said I can do it myself." The man let his irritation reach his voice.

"No, you can't. I call the shots and execute, you stand to the side. That's how this works."

The man responded by throwing his hook at the hallucination. It went straight through the figure's eye and landed behind him on the sand.

The time he spends with Vraska is so good for him! I loved that [the podcasts hosts] talked about how he was finally happy to follow someone else's lead! He didn't need to be a leader, he needed someone to trust him. She respected and loved him and thought he was incredible for who he is.

Vraska looked him in the eye. "You're incredible. You know that, right?"

Jace returned her smile and felt his cheeks warming. "I do my best."

"Well, your best is incredible," Vraska said, turning toward the central tower and approaching a large gate on what appeared to be its back side.

Liliana never told Jace he was incredible.

Liliana would have scoffed. She would have made a dismissive joke, rolled her eyes, and called him a show-off. She would not bother to talk to him for days. She would consume the body of a demon with a crocodile's jaws and laugh over the sound of its flesh tearing off. She would do all sorts of things, but she would never call him incredible.

It was important for Jace to get that validation. Now he's not insecure about his appearance. It's not that he finally developed into someone who was caring. He was caring all along, but he was held back by insecurity about how others perceive him. He learned to love himself.

Despite all his good qualities and deeds he still felt insecure because it wasn't easy to visually see him as a "strong man". I think it's important to acknowledge positive masculinity even when the man in question isn't attractive or charismatic, and even if he makes mistakes.

As a trans person, Jace's experience reminded me of the struggle to "pass". It's frightening how easily insecurity can turn into toxic masculinity when you feel different from "real men". If you don't look the part, some people will just never acknowledge you.

Next to 'perfect' guys like Gideon, it's easy to see our own perceived weaknesses and shortcomings. Easy to feel resentment for it. But from this struggle comes the strive to be better men, to be confident in ourselves, and comfortable in our bodies.

There's SO much I wanted to talk about, like how Jace's trauma shaped his need for control, how the IRL gamer guys he was created to represent actually hate him, how he's a male victim of abuse by a female partner, etc but this thread is already terribly long.

TLDR; I think toxic masculinity as a reading of Jace is missing some perspective. The trans perspective. Not all insecurity men experience is toxic masculinity. Sorry I totally should have waited until part 2 was out, but I couldn't stop thinking about that episode.

There's a lack of trans men's voices in... basically everything, and this is something I think we should definitely be included in. I'm so grateful for the Vorthos community opening these kinds of discussions. Super excited for part 2 of the podcast!

#mtg #jace beleren #magic story #analysis #long post

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grimseynightmare · 3 years

Text

I'm so sick of all the boring adult ear defenders.

Like it's great that kids get cool patterns and stuff, but I swear like every article I read about autistic adults using ear defenders for sensory issues is like (actual quote btw)

'you might appreciate a discrete pair that looks like a pair of headphones'

(wrong discreet btw, discrete means distinct/separate, discreet means subtle/unnoticeable, sorry this just really bugs me)

Yes it goes on about other things an autistic adult needs to keep in mind like how it needs to be comfy to avoid sensory issues (no duh), and yes I am fully aware that certainly some and possibly even most autistic adults would appreciate not having a visible disability aid like that. But also consider:

I WANT FUN EAR DEFENDERS.

I deserve fun ear defenders. If I have to be out in public during sensory overload then darn it I want my disability aid to be fun and cute. I want ones with the bisexual pride flag on the ears, or with kitty ears like those gamer-girl headphones do, or flower crowns on the band. I want a pair with all of those things so I can wear it with a t-shirt that says 'Do I Look Autistic Yet' and I want ones that I can match to my outfits or not as I so choose.

And these articles always mention the fun ones for kids. Galaxy print! Cartoon characters! Multiple colours! and it's always very specifically for children. As if wanting bright pink ear defenders makes me less of an adult, and even kids don't get flowers or kitty ears or whatever else. The closest I've come is putting stickers on my current pair, but I'm seriously about to start hot gluing fake flowers or something onto these bc I WANT TO DAMMIT

#autism #actually autistic #ear defenders #neurodivergent #JUST LET ME HAVE NICE THINGS #also tangentially related I want people to stop telling me that noise-cancelling headphones are better than ear defenders. It's great they #people be like 'but why do you want people to know you're autistic'#i'm just 'BC IT EXPLAINS A HELLUVA LOT'

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storieswrittcnarch · 3 years

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mobile rules

about: this is an indie mutuals only rp blog for a multimuse with various fandoms from tv shows, movies, anime, and video games. mun is 25+, genderfluid lesbian, goes by he/him pronouns online and name Jay. Previously known as Ares and Snow.

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