#me and my decade old camera

[lexkent]

my professor is being so kind about the bad footage and I'm dying at the poverty part 😭

[lululeighsworld]

some other fun affinity auto-battles match-ups >:3cc

[cuntstable]

i wish i could write meaningful poetry or even do comics properly to express ideas and things in my brain that haunt me a bit but i cant so im just left sitting on my bed staring at a wall and going Huh. Okay.

[starvales]

a/n : a small contribution to bruce wayne x gn!neglected!reader bcs i love these kinds of stories. the reader is bruce’s child (younger than dick, older than jason ((reader not specified if biological or adopted)) and is in their mid-twenties.

“After all these years, of neglect and ignorance and dismissals, why should I do anything for you? You don’t know anything about me!”

“I know everything about you. Your full name, your birthday, your qualifications—”

You cut him off.

“—If you know me so well, tell me something about me that isn’t projected on a screen in your man-cave.” You slam a specific folder onto the strategy table and snatch the contents inside.

“Tell me something about me that isn’t public knowledge—” Throwing the few and sparse pages at your father, you don’t falter at his stare while he does nothing to stop you.

You remembered praying for a day like this, begging every night against your bed. A day where your father spared you a glance, for even a second. And what did it take?

“For fuck’s sake, tell me something about me that isn’t on a piece of flimsy paper tucked away in an old manila folder gathering dust!”

Almost two decades of complete familial solitude and a favour that apparently only you could fulfil.

One of the pages fall in front of Bruce and he gently takes it into his hold. There’s a picture of you at the top left, barely hanging on by a cheap paper clip. The you in the portrait is staring mechanically at the camera, staring back soullessly at him.

You’re… fifteen in this photo, he thinks.

“Sure, you know my birthday. But what was the flavour of my cake for my first birthday that was celebrated in the manor? I wouldn’t know, because I didn’t have one, let alone anyone to celebrate with.”

You’re seven years old, sitting in front of a sloppy attempt at a cupcake in a cold kitchen, because you couldn’t reach the switches to turn on the heating or lights.

“You know my list of achievements and qualifications— But goddamnit Bruce, why did you not come to any of my award ceremonies or graduations?”

You’re sixteen, graduating high school early with high honours, thinking that maybe, just maybe, your family will show up. You end up walking back to the manor in the dark.

You’re twenty one, graduating gotham university with a doctorate in engineering. The only difference with this graduation, you drive yourself home.

“I was busy and you know that,” Bruce states. States instead of says, because you know he doesn’t know how to speak to you.

“No, I didn’t know that. Wanna know why?”

You round the table, clenching your fists and grinding your teeth, you got right in his face and spat venom.

“Because you didn’t have the decency to tell me yourself.”

[imstillalexcomic]

Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Trans Prom dress!

I wasn't publicly out or on Tumblr yet when Trans Prom happened last year. But now, now I am out and on Tumblr!

...I mean technically I made a Corpse Run Tumblr for a hot sec like a decade ago, but I'm not sure that counts since I never really used it.

ANYWAY

I've really been opening up to wearing more traditionally feminine clothing (I'll be wearing a skirt to the office for the first time tomorrow!). I was initially having difficulty drawing myself in feminine attire without making myself look embarrassed in order to match my feelings.

But now, I don't know, I feel like kind of comfortable? Excited even?!

So, high school for me was a long time ago, I graduated in 2006. I was a quiet wallflower type of kid, and I didn't go to my prom...

...I went to my fencing club instead that night.

I'm still not really a dance person, but something I definitely am is a long time administrator of youth programs, so being a dance chaperone is more my speed.

Also, I'm pretty old in the grand scheme of Tumblr, so I feel like this desire of mine to watch everyone have fun fits the theme.

I will have a glass of wine while doing so, however.

...and be barefoot.

Apparently the kids at my summer camp I still do some work at call me "the barefoot camera guy".

I like being barefoot, it's comfy!

Thank you to @zaigg for creating Trans Prom!

Not sure if someone is going to put together a collage image of all the Trans Prom participants, but if so, here's my contribution in its native size with a transparent background!

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Strawberry Shortcake

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!baker!reader

♥ synopsis: your mother owned a bakery in australia and oscar, your childhood best friend was your favorite regular until he had to move away for his racing career. you've since become head chef and people are beginning to wonder where or who oscar got his impeccable baking skills from.

♥ smau + written - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive jokes !!!

♥ a/n: literal tooth rotting fluff

-Australia, 2024-

liked by user26, user7, user14, and 18,302 more

y/n.pastries getting ready for spring with some new cupcakes <3

view comments

user14 looks yummy 😋

yoursister do I get a family discount?

yourusername no 🥰

user7 face card is insane

user21 looks good! i’ll stop by and pick up some things soon 😊

user25 you’re gorgeous

user23 your cupcakes never miss

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Webs Most Searched Questions-

"Is Lando Norris..." he peeled off the thin white strip. "Related to Chuck Norris?"

"Yes," Lando jokingly admitted, gazing straight into the camera as Oscar tossed the card aside.

The team walked up to the two men and handed Lando another card of questions to ask his teammate.

"Does Oscar Piastri... really like pastries? I dunno, do you Oscar?"

"I do like pastries," Oscar nodded. "I like making them more, though."

"You know how to bake?" Lando questioned.

"An old friend taught me." he admitted.

"You’ll have to bring some treats in for the team one day, then."

"Maybe one day I will. Cupcakes are my specialty."

"Oh are they?" Lando raised a brow. "I'm gonna need some proof of that."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, mclarenracingf1, logansargeant, and 1,482,053 more

oscarpiastri made some cupcakes for the team like i promised

view comments

user2 oh he cooked 😮‍💨

user1 the piping >>>

user3 i’m not surprised that he’s good at piping

user7 he can pipe me any day

user10 OSCAR CAN THROW DOWN

user6 no bc why do those look so good

landonorris i expect you to bring these every day now

user4 now whom exactly did he learn this from

user8 flavor?

oscarpiastri vanilla cupcake with buttercream, some with a lemon custard filling and some without for varied pallets

user9 get this man on a baking show asap

user11 and then Oscar opened a cupcake shop and him and Charles did a Collab birthday cake ice cream

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Your Bakery, March 12-

The golden bell on your bakery’s door chimed late in the afternoon as you swept, getting ready for closing.

Your back was facing the entrance as you spoke up, “Perfect timing. I was just about to lock the door. What can I get for ya?”

“A strawberry shortcake.”

You spun around, recognizing the man’s voice instantly.

It was Oscar.

You hadn’t seen him in about a decade, but you still occasionally took time to follow his racing. You were hoping that one day he’d find his way back to you.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

“Hi.”

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he responded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You reached down to grab the small cake from the cold display case, “You know, your mum reached out to me.”

“She did? What’d she say?”

“Just how she wants us to reconnect and all. She visits me pretty often.”

Oscar hummed, as you set the cake on the counter.

“…To-go?” you asked.

He shook his head no, “Would you like to sit down with me?”

You nodded, plating the treat and walking out from behind the check out. You locked the door and he grabbed two small pink forks, handing one to you as you took a seat across from him.

“My mum, she would uhm…” he stabbed the utensil into the cake. “At every race she got to see in person she’d bring me a pastry from here. She’d make sure to tell me it was made by you and how your business was doing and all. I always performed better when she brought me them, too. It was always nice to know a piece of you was with me everywhere I went.“

You practically melted at the confession.

“That’s really sweet,” you dragged the tongs of your fork through some of the icing.

“I see that you’ve made a name for yourself in the Formula 1 baking community.” you both laughed.

“I had a great teacher.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, both taking bites from the cake.

“I’m sorry i didn’t visit sooner,” Oscar apologized.

“I’m just glad you’re here now.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 23,847 more

y/n.pastries race weekend

view comments

oscarpiastri ferrari cookies really?

y/n.pastries i’m making mclaren ones too relax

charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri is that any way to treat your father’s team?

user4 spectacular give me 14 more of em right now

user6 take my money 💳

landonorris so THIS is who taught @/oscarpiastri how to cook 🔥

y/n.pastries perhaps

user3 guys she’s so pretty

user1 @/nicolepiastri what’s the lore here

user8 obsesseddd

user10 hear me out she should sell these at the melbourne circuit

user7 this !!!

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 100,583 more

nicolepiastri it was about time you two reconnected

tagged; @/oscarpiastri @/y/n.pastries

view comments

oscarpiastri mummm

y/n.pastries 😅

landonorris what's up with that second picture

oscarpiastri no comment

user7 the amount of times i've seen f1 drivers dressed as nintendo characters is uncanny

user4 paul aaron and dino core

user1 AWWWW

user8 this is so cute

logansargeant @/oscarpiastri how come i’ve never heard of this? don't tell me you fumbled this bad

oscarpiastri 😐

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Australian Grand Prix-

At your bakery Oscar insisted that you attend this year’s Australian Grand Prix. You finally got the privilege of meeting so many amazing people such as Leo the famous paddock puppy and none other than Oscar’s best friend, Logan.

You stood in the Mclaren garage with Oscar’s parents as the team prepped for the race. You brought some cookies for Lando to which he complained that he wouldn’t be able to eat them until after the podium ceremony.

-

The two made their way back to you a few hours later, Lando in p3 and Oscar in p4. Lando snatched the tin of cookies from your hands.

“You know you’re supposed to share that?” you said as he took a seat, devouring the treats, but he just waved you off.

You gave Oscar a hug and he pulled you off to the side.

“So I was thinking… maybe I could take you on a proper date tomorrow?

You smiled, “That sounds great.”

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, georgerussell63, and 1,394,623 more

oscarpiastri morning

view comments

user1 you don’t have to soft launch we all know you’re with y/n

user2 there’s only one person who can make those croissants and it’s y/n

user5 the third picture 😨

user3 she’s so lucky 😭

user4 @/yourusername how does it feel to live MY dream?

georgerussell63 @/alex_albon who takes all the shirtless pictures now

alexalbon still you mate

-F1 Winter Break-

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, f1, and 1,492,053 more

y/n.pastries I am very pleased to announce three new limited additions to the bakery’s menu! Carlos Sainz’ pancakes, Yuki Tsunoda’s Fruit Sando, and the LEC Vanillove ice cream sandwich.

The fans have been dying to try my boyfriend Oscar’s (basic) vanilla buttercream cupcakes, so I’ll be keeping them as a year round pastry.

It has been an honor to work with the four of you <3

tagged; @/carlossainz55 @/yukitsunoda0511 @/charles_leclefc @/oscarpiastri

view comments

oscarpiastri im so proud of you ❤️

y/n.pastries i love you osc

oscarpiastri i love you too

oscarpiastri also my signature cupcake is not “basic”

y/n.pastries whatever you say 😉

user1 guys yuki is slowly starting to accomplish his restaurant dreams

pierregasly no creds?

y/n.pastries for?

pierregasly helping yuki

y/n.pastries yea… no

pierregasly helping charles?

y/n.pastries 😐

user2 yukierre and piarles are so back

user7 the childhood friends to lovers is melting my heart 😩

user8 theyre so adorable it makes me physically ill

user3 i’m pretty sure nicole is jumping up and down right now

oscarpiastri oh don’t worry she is

[slttygeto]

Gojo (Name) & Gojo Satoru Take A Couple’s Quiz | GQ

pairing: actor! satoru x singer! fem! reader

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive towards the end.

note: its been a whiiiile

📊 Video Stats

12M views | 200K likes | 35K comments

The set that your team had picked for this specific interview had a welcoming vibe to it. A living room set up, with a long creamy beige couch and matching armchairs facing one another. Separating the two was a round dark wooden table, with beautiful pink, yellow and white tulips threatening to spill out of their vase. 

Before the camera starts rolling, you sit on one of the chairs whilst another person shuffles to take a seat on the other. 

No pressure, just have fun

“Hi, I’m (Name),” you lean back in your seat, waving at the camera.

“And I’m Satoru,” the tall white haired man casts you a knowing look, and then you both speak.

“This is the GQ’s Couple’s Quiz.”

One would debate whether or not the latest single from an artist is their Hit song, or if the upcoming movie of a certain actor will have a good roll-out with all the promotion it was getting. But if there was anything the industry agreed on, it was the fact that you and Satoru were THE it couple.

Not just of the year, or the previous or even three years prior—you have been together for more than a decade, and the fact that you kept most of your relationship off the spotlight meant that this interview was a big deal to both of your fans.

Whilst Satoru was a famous, well respected actor in the industry who started out at a very young age, you had chosen singing as your career path. The two occupations rarely ever came together unless it was for fashion week or any other major event like the Oscars or the Met Gala. However, you were very proud to admit that you met your husband under adorable circumstances. 

“Who should start?” You grab the cards from the round table and your husband gestures towards you with his left hand, making sure to flash his wedding ring at the camera.

“After you madame,” he makes an exaggerated bow and you snort. 

“Oh wow, what a gentleman.” You say jokingly and he grins as he leans back in his seat.

You shuffle through the cards, deciding which question to go for first. You trusted your husband, you knew that there wasn’t anything he didn’t know about you. But it was fun to test his knowledge once in a while.

“Oh this is a good question,” you clear your throat. “Dear husband, how old was I when I knew that I wanted to be a singer.”

The white haired male answers almost immediately.

“4 years old.” 

You giggle as you clap your hands. “Good job! You’ll get an extra point if you say which song I sang that made me fall in love with singing.” 

Satoru pretends to be stretching, looking around the filming crew with a raised eyebrow. “Y’all see that? She’s making up her own rules as we go.” 

And the crew laughs when you gasp, hitting him lightly with your cards. “Just answer! I’m giving you extra points.”

“I have nothing by Whitney Houston.” He says without missing a beat before covering his mouth and mumbling to the camera. “A little too ambitious, might I add.” 

“Satoru!”

The two of you share a laugh and Satoru raises his hands to show that he surrenders, grabbing the back of your hand to kiss it. “Just kidding, you sound amazing.”

A decade and two kids later, the man still makes you blush like a highschooler. 

“Okay, next question—oh I like this one!” You turn to the GQ team with a big smile. “You guys really took into consideration all of my questions.”

“And I’ll get it right this time.”

“We’ll see about that,” 

Satoru sees the glint in your eyes and for a split second, his eyes land on your lips before locking with yours again. 

“What outfit was I wearing when we first met?” You hide your face with the question cards, kicking your feet slightly as you watch the wheels in his head turn. 

“Wait–”

“I knew you wouldn’t remember!” 

“I do!” Satoru quickly jumps to defend himself. “Ugh, I’m just hesitant about the colors because it was literally sunset.” 

It was sunset when you first met?

The two of you quickly realize Satoru’s slip, but neither of you is upset about it. All you do is nod before Satoru reaches towards you, grabbing your knee.

“This woman right here–”

“Satoru,” you warn him, but it’s harmless. You’re not actually angry, but you are wondering if it was actually time to share such a significant detail about your story together.

“Stood right in front of the sunset while I was trying to take a picture.” He squeezes your knee as he continues. “At first I was a little annoyed and half wondering ‘who the hell is that?’ and the other half recognized her.” 

You hide your hot face with the cards. 

“Then when I went to look at the picture I took, it was literally magical. She turned around when I said ‘excuse me?’ and my camera had caught the exact moment when she turned her head.”

A synchronized “awwww” echoed through the studio as you tried to calm your beating heart.

And you just happened to be on vacation together?

“Yeah, we didn’t even know. We only found out because of that picture.”

“And the rest is history,” your left hand, adorned with a gorgeous wedding ring, slowly finds his and you squeeze it. 

After a couple of questions, it’s time for Satoru to be the one quizzing you. And he seems to be very excited about it.

“Alright,” he fixes the cards on his lap with a wide grin, casting you a knowing look. “You know what time it is.”

“It’s quiz timeee,” you say half enthusiastically and Satoru throws his head back as he laughs. 

“You don’t sound excited at all!”

“I am! I just want to win!”

Satoru smirks before shuffling through the cards. “And maybe you will,” 

“Please, you’re so competitive you don’t let your own sons win.”

The filming crew share a laugh and Satoru pretends to be offended as he places a hand on his chest. “Accusations!”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave your hands at him. “Go ahead.”

“Alright question number one,” he holds the card up to his face before clearing his throat. “I have always known that I wanted to be an actor, what was my very first project eve–”

“Jujutsu middle school art class project!” You answer loudly, almost jumping off your seat. “You were 12, had just purchased a camera and your teacher asked you to film something that inspired you. He didn’t expect you to include yourself acting in the video, and you ended up using it as your auditioning tape for your first official project ever.” 

You give such a detailed answer that Satoru can’t help but lean in and kiss you all over your face while you squeal.

“My wife ladies and gentlemen,”

“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh as he leans back in his seat.

“Next question!” He shuffles through the cards again before finally landing on a good question. “What is my favorite album of yours?”

“Oh god,” you cover your face with your hands. “I know the answer, but it feels almost self-centered to bring up my music into this.”

Your husband lightly smacks your head with the cards and you chuckle lightly. “I know it’s my third studio album.”

He points towards the camera with a knowing grin. “Tell the audience why.”

And at first you hesitate, your face getting hotter and your hands clammy and sweaty. But eventually you give in with a nervous giggle. “..because you were in the studio with me when I was writing most of the songs.”

Your husband claps his hands, smirking at the camera knowingly. “If you know, you know.”

“You’re unbelievable!” 

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [satoruthestrongest]: GET A ROOOOOOM  (2.3K likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: time to relisten to the album…if you know what I mean  (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: I literally felt like I was thirdwheeling the entire time  (7,3K likes) 💬 [(name)ntoru]: I have never in my life been so invested in a couple’s healthy relationship like theirs (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [(name)ntoru]: me too its actually concerning

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: the way she scolds him but he makes her nervous at the same time????(923 likes) 💬 [albumoftheyear]: satoru looks like he’s plotting baby number 3 with those looks (508 likes) 💬 [cmontryme]: the only couple ever  (392 likes)

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Jeno ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Jeno x f!idol!reader

summary: there's no way that the boy in the picture you've been sent is the same boy that was your best friend almost a decade ago... right?

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

a/n: I am not currently accepting any new self-on kode requests

divider from adornedwithlight <3

To say you were nervous was an understatement. This was your first ever official talk show interview after a long needed hiatus. You had been in the public spotlight for years now with only a few shorts in between. There was no nearly enough time off to make up for the long days and even longer nights. Now though, you felt extremely well rested and very ready to promote your new album.

With the go ahead from the staff you smiled brightly at the camera, kicking on your charisma. You wiggle your fingers in a wave, "hello there, I bet you've missed me, huh? Today I will be messaging a stranger and I'll have to try to figure out who it is."

While your music kicked on and you bopped your head to the song, Jeno walked onto the set, settling into the pink armchair with his usual eye smile at the camera. "Hello again, I am Jeno from NCT Dream," he bows his head softly before mumbling to himself, "I hope this is better than last time."

He looks at the staff directly, eyes wide with nervous curiosity, "it's not Chenle this time right? This time it's real?" The staff nod while laughing and he relaxes into the plush chair and types out the first message, a simple hello.

You read the message and type out your response. The conversation continues for a while, simple small talk as each of you try to sus each other out. You know that he's very inquisitive, every other message is a question, and he seems young since he uses slang and understands your jokes.

Then comes the first prompt, send your most recent food orders you slowly raise your gaze from your screen to the camera. "This is not going to be very exciting on my end," you warn before taking the screen shot and sending it to your partner.

You study the screenshot sent your way, making conversation about the various dishes and complimenting their taste. Then it comes, Jeno's brows furrow, mumbling to himself, "am I seeing this right?"

His finger tap against his screen quickly, "you haven't ordered any food in three months?"

You purse your lips as you reply, "I just spent a long break at home with my family. I don't want to eat out when my mom and grandma are cooking for me anyway."

Jeno hums in agreement, replying, "that makes sense. If I was home I don't think I'd eat out much either."

From that point on the conversation continues and it feels easier. You're still not sure exactly who you're texting but you just get the vibe that it's a younger guy, maybe even someone your age.

Finally after silly would you rathers and stupid conversations, the interview is coming to an end with an exchange of childhood pictures and your drawing of your partner.

You send a picture of yourself as a toddler, the bowl cut style on your head makes it impossible to determine your gender and it's an old enough picture that it doesn't look too much like you now. Plus, it's only half the picture, even harder to figure out who you are.

Jeno sighs as he looks at the screen, he's not a good artist, drawing isn't his thing, not even close. He sends off his picture without a second thought and gets to work doodling and writing captions or ideas when he doesn't trust his drawing skills. He grumbles to himself as he tries his best to create a drawing or as close as he can get to a drawing as he can.

But on the other side of the wall you sit, staring at the image. Something about it just seems so... familiar. The picture is half of a little boy, he has one hand holding up a thumbs up, his eyes nearly closed with how big his smile is, and someone else's arm thrown over his shoulder pinching his cheek. Why does this picture of a random half a little boy seem so familiar?

Your phone buzzed multiple times, but you can't tear your eyes away from the picture, forcing your brain to work twice as hard to try to place the image.

Jeno stares at his phone with pure confusion. His fingers tap over the keyboard, "hello? Are you there? Hellooooo? Are you in the bathroom? Is this another prank?"

You shake your head, ignoring the prompt and the drawing sent your way. It's a bad drawing anyway. You reply, "send me the whole picture."

Jeno looks at the staff with wide eyes, "huh? Is that allowed?" The staff shrug, trying to seem nonchalant so he sends the full picture your way, waiting for your response with pure curiosity.

On your end you gasp. You know why the picture looks so familiar. The bracelet hanging off the second person's wrist, the house in the backyard, the young kid in the picture. You look at the camera, "it's Jeno!"

Lee Jeno. You hadn't seen or heard from him in years. He had been both your neighbor and your best friend when you were a kid but sometime around 11 or 12 years old he moved away and you lost touch. He had started training for SM and a year later you started training for another company. At that point you didn't really even have time to think about him since you were so busy with your own career. You had seen his debut and kept up with every comeback as a silent fan. Jeno had been your best friend, of course you were going to support him.

You never felt the need to share that you knew the Lee Jeno from NCT Dream. Fans could be crazy with the little amount of information you already shared and you didn't want to deal with any unnecessary haters for simple having a friend when you were a child. Plus, the topic simply never came up. Interviewers didn't ask about your childhood friends, they didn't ask about former neighbors, or any other idols that you might know. It was easy to hide, but not now.

Instead of waiting for the countdown from the staff, you pulled out your earbuds and left your phone on the seat and walked toward the blue half of the set. His eyes look up, you can see it in his eyes that he recognizes you and then warmth floods his face as he jumps from his chair and hugs you tightly. He laughs with disbelief, "it's you!"

You laugh, tightening your arms around him while the staff all coo and aww behind the camera. The hug lasts much longer than what is shown in the video and the editors thankfully cut the scenes where you cry happy tears.

You and Jeno sit side by side at a high top table, listening to the staff ask you both to share your story. You laugh, "Jeno and I were neighbors and best friends growing up. Our moms were best friends after his family moved in a few houses away since they both had babies about the same age and after that Jeno and I became best friends too. We went to school together, we had play dates, we had dinner at each other's houses almost every night. He was my best friend."

Jeno smiles at you, finding it hard to turn his attention back to the camera when you're sitting beside him looking so happy as much more mature than you did over a decade ago. Did the crush he had on you just reignite? He shakes his head, refocusing himself, "yeah, but then I started training and we lost touch. I guess we never thought to exchange information. Every time I went home during breaks you were gone and vice versa. It is very good to see you again, though."

Jeno bumps your shoulder with his own, "so, what about the picture gave it away?"

You deadpan, "Jeno, it's my hand squeezing your cheek and it's in front of my house."

Jeno flushes, nodding awkwardly, "...right."

You laugh and the two of you finally get the opportunity to catch up, for a little too long. You know that over half of this conversation will be cut. You talk about your moms, how his life is going, your newest comeback and childhood memories.

Finally, the staff have the heart to interrupt you both and instruct you both to take the picture. Instead of the usual selfie, you and Jeno ask one of the staff to take the picture for you. Jeno has to bend his knees to match your height as he rests his head on your shoulder, holding his thumb up while your fingers lightly squeeze his cheek. You both have matching bright smiles on your faces as the screen fades to the closing screen with a side by side of your full childhood picture together and the remake.

It's no surprise that a few months later you and Jeno are seen together more and more. He mentions you in lives and in vlogs and you do the same. It's a year or so later when your companies finally confirm that you're both dating, but your fans didn't need the confirmation. It was made abundantly clear that you and Jeno knew each other better than anyone else.

[hearts4mica]

Imagine: Batsis going on a date and batfam not being happy about it.

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

“It’s a classmate.” You mumbled, looking down as you avoided everyone’s gaze.

"A guy from school?" Dick asked, a smirk leaving his face.

"That's even worse!" Damian protested. "Schools are full of hormones and crazy kids."

“It’s valentines day! Im not staying at home doing nothing!” You respond sassily

"Valentines day has nothing to do with this!" Damian asked before sighing exasperatedly.

"Are you even old enough to be dating? What do you know about love?" Jason asked

“Do you even know about love Jason? You’ve been single for over a decade-“ Tim says snickering

"Well i was dead thank you very much replacement!" Jason rolls his eyes.

“And who even is this guy [name]? Do we know him?” Bruce asked finally speaking after being silent for modt of the dinner.

“Well maybe you do?” You asked lowering your voice.

“What does that even mean [name]?!” Jason hufs tiredly why would even his sister go out on a date?! At night! In gotham! That’s like literally asking to die!

Tim almost laughed as well but stopped when Dick elbowed him. "So, who's the lucky one that is going to take our baby sister out?"

"Is he nice? Is he funny? Is he handsome?" Stephanie asked, getting excited. After all she was the one who ‘accidentally’ spilled your secret.

Damian scoffed, "I bet he's stupid. He is a man after all”

“I think it’s that guy that came over last week!” Stephanie says adding more drama to this

“So his name is Bryan? Such a stupid name. Are you seriously going out with him [name]?” Damian says while reading your texts!- how did he even?!

“Damian!” You say while quickly standing up reaching towards him but he throws the phone to Jason

Jason continues to read “Hey sweetheart?’ Ew [name] seriously? Ahem- So meet you today at-” the phone gets yanked from his hands by Alfred!

You thank alfred while he gives you back your phone

“You shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours? Don’t you know that already?” Alfred begins scolding Jason and Damian.

“[name] you can go on your… date but you have to come home before 7pm” Bruce states calmly

“Father are you seriously letting her go?! She will be with a boy! What if a villian attacks. She can’t go she’s to weak to defend herself.” Damian says it was obvious he didn’t want you to go! Since you’re his older sister! You had to spend the day with him! Your favorite brother!

“Thank you very much Damian” you mutter under your breath.

“Dad! Thanks for letting me go! But can’t my curfew be until uuhh 10pm? You ask Bruce.

You are obviously pushing your luck but trying never harmed anyone.

He said no. Of course he would.

Well atleast you don’t have to sneak out today!

———————————————————————————

Your lucky that they won’t stalk you!

Right?…

———————————————————————————

Tim ended up stalking you by watching the security cameras! Of course you didn’t have to know about that! He had the bad luck to watch you and your date have a little peck before coming back to the house.

He is definitely showing Bruce this.

———————————————————————————

Reposts and comments are thanked!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

[churipu]

SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.

note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33

"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."

nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"

(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.

"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.

half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.

"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.

nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.

what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.

"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."

nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.

(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.

the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."

"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."

nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.

he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).

but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.

"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.

the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.

unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."

(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.

nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"

the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.

nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."

the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.

"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?

nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"

you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."

the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"

you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"

nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"

"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.

"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."

you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"

her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"

and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"

the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"

you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."

"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"

the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.

"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"

and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"

nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.

(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[starlighthosh]

idk where to request this, i have a a list of my favorite writers and I thought about you 🥹🥹HAHAHAHA so basically its cheol dating someone back in their trainee days, she was also a trainee but left because pledis cant debut another group CAUSE THEY ARE BROKE. Well there are a lot of videos of seventeen during their trainee era in that melona room and fans saw random videos of her taking care of cheol, since if you saw cheol in that room he was at his rebellious era 😭😭😭 only she can stop him, AND MANY YEARS AFTER ITS 10TH ANNIVERSARY OF SEVENTEEN (HAPPY BURSTDAY TO YOU) and fans were wondering what happened, AND THEY'RE STILL DATING GOING STRONG WOHOOO and only announced it today, no one can stop cheol, she also has a successful career non idol or idol yeah AND THAT'S JUST CUTE HAHAHA

That’s such a long but still such a fun request🫡 and thank you for choosing me for this🫶🏻

Definitely took me a while to write it, but I hope you still enjoy. Happy burstday to you too:)

melona memories - c.sc

extra warning: idol!reader, secret relationship, established relationship

The first time fans noticed you was in an old video with bad quality from over a decade ago. You were just kids with great goals and Seventeen was still just a dream.

You weren’t actually supposed to be in the shot, the focus was meant to be on Seventeen practicing, dancing, sweating, laughing. But you somehow still made it into the video. Only slightly, but enough for fans to go crazy about it. You were kneeling down next to cheol, handing him a water bottle and brushing the fringe of his sweaty forehead with a towel, tender like someone who knew him better than anyone else.

“Who’s that girl with cheol?” “She’s the only one he ever let scold him😭” “That’s the girl who left pledis!!”

Now it’s been ten whole years since seventeen debuted. Back then you were watching them from the shadows, the quiet corners and the seats of a concert, letting them shine while you built up your own success. You debuted a few years later under another agency, making your own name as a soloist. But cheol has always been the guy you came back home to at the end of the day.

You never stopped dating since the trainee days. Not when you left the company, not when you debuted years later and not when he grew to be the leader of thirteen boys, carrying the weight of a whole fandom on his back. In all the chaos, you were his peace.

“Are you sure?” you asked that morning, your voice groggy as you sat up in bed. The tweets have gone viral overnight, both of your phones exploding with messages from several people and fans. Cheol was scrolling through the fan edits, a faint grin playing on his lips while he watched the fans piece the puzzle together.

“They figured it out anyway” he replied, turning the phone to show you the edits of the same video with a dramatic zoom into your face. You laughed, leaning against his shoulder. “They will go insane when they find out you’ve been hiding me for all those years”

Seungcheol pulled you in, his voice gentle. “I never hid you. Just protected us”. You knew that, he never made you feel like a secret just once. Instead you were his safe place from flashing cameras, pressure from the company and the weight of being a leader. But now it felt right to show the world what you two have been quietly nurturing.

The company obviously was hesitant about it. “You’re both active idols. It’s seventeens tenth anniversary. Think of the timing and the fans”. But neither of you really cared this time. No matter how much hate you would get, you could make it through it. Together and separately.

So you made it official. A picture of two hands intertwined. You wore a silver ring and fans could remember a familiar bracelet on the other wrist. No tags, no caption.

Seungcheol followed an hour later with his favorite picture of you two. It was from the night of his birthday two years ago. You didn’t know you were being photographed, which makes the picture just so much more authentic, laughing and enjoying each others presence without any fears.

“From the melona room till today, still my favorite person. My peace🤍”

The internet exploded. Fan theories, clips of soft smiles and eye contact all pointing back to you. The best part though was that everyone was happy. They weren’t mad. They could detect the love you two have been sharing for so long with great care.

Later that night, when the world quieted and the sun set from the loud day, you found yourself in your shared apartment. Legs were tangled on the couch and two bowls of ramyeon between you. “You never thought we had to announce it, hm?” you teased. Cheol smiled, lazy and content. “We didn’t need to, but it’s cute they figured it out anyway”

You placed your bowl down and leaned into him. “Ten years already. The time just flew by”. He nodded. “Yeah and you still make me feel like it’s just dumb teenage love” cheol mumbled, removing little strands of hair out of your face. You giggled, looking up to meet his eyes. And he kissed you, soft and grateful.

In this loud world that never stops spinning, you’ve been the only constant.

[uhhhj13iguess]

prepare yourself

avenger!peter parker x avenger! reader

summary: peter loses you on a mission, and it's worse than he could've imagined

wc: 3.5k

cw: body gore! mdni! i wanted to experiment with writing body horror, so it gets very graphic when detailing injuries/mutilation. there's no description of the actual events happening, just a lot of wording around the body designed to hopefully make you feel a bit squeamish!

if anyone wants, i'd love to do a part two with the medical-side juxtaposition as well, and give a sweet lil peter ending to turn this angst into fluff i fucking did and forgot to tag it! here it is!

masterlist and taglist!

peter shot one last web towards the wall, concluding his mural of men webbed along the hallway outside the security room. he gave himself a proud smile, admiring his work.

"you're telling me these guys are hydra? for a decades-long terrorist organization, they sure don't know how to train their front line very well."

you snickered beside him, sliding another bloodied man along the tiled floor to where you'd piled the others.

"i don't get why tony has us on security watch, this is light work. why even have me train under nat if i can't use my skills in practice? i wanna get my hands dirty, i wanna know what they aren't telling us." you kicked the foot of the man below you, turning to peter and giving him a frown. he offered you a knowing smile in return.

"yeah, i get what you mean. come on, lets just get in there and disable the security measures. then we can go back to the jet and try that chocolate i bought at the sokovian 7-eleven."

you grinned at him, heart swelling at the thought of some alone time with peter before the rest of the team was done.

"alright. you head in, i'm going to do one more sweep of the first floor while you're in there."

peter felt his senses go off for a second, a weird feeling in his chest. "i don't know, maybe we shouldn't split up."

you gave him a look. "what, you don't think i can handle myself? come on, you know we've cleared this floor already. plus, you've got like, three buttons to hit and we're home free, it won't be that long."

"yeah, but—"

"but nothing, spidey. come on, work your tech magic and meet me out here."

he let out a breath, shaking off whatever bad feeling was sitting in his stomach. "yeah, you're probably right. one sec,"

peter ducked into the security room, a dissonant beep ringing through the air as he held the keycard to the lock. the light flashed green and let him in. he laughed, "thanks bad guys!"

he heard you chuckle from down the hall as he made his way into the room, a smile on his face. he would never admit it to you, but he liked that you two were handed the short stick on missions. you were in and out, leaving time alone before the rest of the team came back, and he relished those moments more than any chance of glory.

he reached the switchboard, glancing at the monitors as he saw the rest of the team on the cameras making their rounds on various floors. "god we're so badass."

(y/n) was right: it was a matter of exactly three commands before he had the systems disabled. he heard tony through his comms,

"thanks, kid. now, do us all a favor and get yourself to the jet. this shouldn't take long."

peter smiled to himself, a feeling of accomplishment coursing through him. did he press literally there buttons? yes. but he pressed three buttons as an avenger. man, that would never grow old.

he heard commotion from down the hall and called out towards you. "alright (y/n), we've had our fun. stop messing with them and let's fuck up some chocolate, shall we?"

he was met with silence, his chest feeling tight again. "(y/n)?"

he took one step out of the room before his head was met with a metal fist, the CRACK of his own skull ringing through his ears before he lost consciousness.

tony jerked back as his hand repulsor let out a blast, sending the guy on steve's back to the ground with a heavy thud.

"mr. stark, both peter and (y/n) have gone unconscious." FRIDAY echoed through the suit. his blood ran cold.

"what?"

"both of them are in the building and their vitals are stable, however, they've both just lost consciousness within one minute of each other."

he felt his breathing pick up, his heartbeat commanding in his chest. he looked to steve and nat. "you guys good?"

nat threw a nasty headbutt, sending the agent in front of her collapsing to the ground. "go, tony."

he flew out without another word.

"FRIDAY, get me their most recent location."

"head to the security room, sir. take a left now."

tony reached the room in a matter of a minute, missiles out and on guard. he announced himself before storming the room, standing down once met with peter on the ground, no one else around him. he rushed out of his suit and to his side, shaking the boy relentlessly.

"kid, come on. wake up."

a few more desperate shakes and peter was gasping for air, fists flying and ready to fight.

"woah woah woah, hey— you're alright, you're okay. same sides, just me."

peter stalled his movements, taking a deep breath and allowing himself to grab ahold of his surroundings. he sat up slowly before immediately regretting it. man, did his head hurt.

"kid, you alright? you're bleeding. take of the mask, i need to see it." tony reached towards him, only to be swatted at.

"mr. stark, someone'll see!"

"kid, the floor is clear. i'm pretty sure you're responsible for that. jesus, how hard did you hit your head?" he pressed the spider emblem on peter's chest, revealing his blood-stained curls.

"pete, what the hell happened? for fucks sake, we need to get you out of here. FRIDAY, admister morphine."

"what? no, mr. stark don't— OW! mr. stark, what the hell??"

"kid, you're going to thank me in ten minutes. where's (y/n)?"

peter felt his mouth go dry. "w-what do you mean 'where's (y/n)''?"

tony's face fell. "shit. okay kid, let's get you to the jet. sam?" he called into his comms.

"yeah tony, what's up?"

"get down here, i need you to get eyes on (y/n)."

peter shot up instantly, his mask climbing back up his face. "no, mr. stark, really. i'm fine. i can feel it healing already, honest. i have to find (y/n)."

"we aren't having a discussion on this."

"you're right, we're not."

peter took off, flying down the hallway and out of sight before tony could even get back in his suit.

"karen, show me heat signatures."

the team searched for a while, leaving no one in their way untouched. the fight to find you was growing tireless, and the more time that passed without a trace of you led to more panic spreading amongst the team — peter worst of all.

he'd grown feral in his search for you, bloodying any body he encountered.

"kid, we should head back to the jet. we need to gameplan this." tony rang through his suit.

"no. mr stark, her tracker is still in the compound and she's close enough to read vitals on."

"pete, we—"

"she's in pain, mr. stark. i'm not leaving this building without her."

peter continued to search for hours, detailing every single room in the building. he spent the most time in the room your tracker had led him to, but helpless as he couldn't find you anywhere nearby. he had screamed your name for the majority of the search, his throat raw as his own healing couldn't even keep up with his efforts. he felt the blood warm on the back of his throat, accompanying the warm flood of tears down his cheeks.

"this is all my fault." he let out a horse whimper, bouncing his head up against the brick wall in front of him.

he felt hopeless. he felt like the world was crashing around him, a wretched feeling in his chest ripping him apart from the inside. this was all his fault, he didn't—

the bricks against his forehead ground against one another before shifting backwards, causing peter to jerk his head up. he stared wide eyed to a portion of the wall having fallen back as though on hinges, a long hallway now standing in front of him.

"a secret door. you're kidding." he breathed to himself. "mr. stark?"

"yeah, kid?" tony rang through.

"i found a door hidden in the wall right where (y/n)'s location is. i'm going in."

"i'll be there in 30 seconds."

peter sighed to himself before stepping his foot over the threshold and down the concrete-lined hallway.

"this would've been way cooler 5 hours ago."

tony landed in the room, eyes on the hole in the wall as he made his way down. he spotted peter ahead of him, not quite to the room at the other end.

"mr. stark, i have (y/n)'s heat signature in the room about twenty yards ahead. she's alive, but her vital signs are unstable. i'll prepare the jet for medical intervention." FRIDAY alerted.

tony gave a deep sigh as he approached peter, a hand falling on his chest and preventing him from walking any further.

"mr. stark, what are you— we have to go, sir!"

"kid, just wait a second. i need you to be prepared for anything, okay? they had (y/n) for almost five hours, and you know what we came here for originally. just, prepare yourself."

peter scowled, a look of of uncertainty overtaking his features as though he was at war with himself. he met tony's gaze. "this is all my fault."

"hey, pete. you know that's not true. you're lucky we aren't finding you in this room too."

peter took a shakey inhale, turning back to the opening of the cold room before them. "i'll feel lucky when i have her out of here."

and with that, peter ran. he navigated the room, desperately following your heat signature as tony focused on the agents and scientists in the room. he hoped peter was entirely focused on getting to you because he sure as hell wasn't following the "no-kill" rule this time around.

with everyone else taken care of, peter ran to the other end of the room where karen had traced you. and while tony had done his best, there was nothing peter could've done to prepare himself for what he saw.

you were on the concrete floor, clothes ripped and shivering from the frigid temperature of the room. your eyes were closed as you flinched from the noises around you, but it wasn't your demeanor that stopped him dead in his tracks.

there you laid, at complete mercy of those around you. thick tubes entered your body through your arms and chest, a viscous, black sludge coursing into you. it leaked out around the edges, your torn skin wet from not only the liquid but from the amount of blood lost as well.

the tubes protruded two from each forearm and one on either side of your collarbones, each breath stretching the skin around them and causing more tearing on your chest. peter could see the outline of the tubing in your arms, your skin bulging as the tubes fished themselves up to your biceps. the sight made him lightheaded, beginning to panic as he fought to believe what his eyes were showing him.

the scent of everything brought tears to his eyes, a sickly sweet smell in the air as your body fought hard to reject everything that was happening. it was foul, a putrid scent similar to that of rotten fruit flooding his nose and raising bile in his throat. had it been from the stench alone, peter would've thought you'd been dead for hours.

he took a step closer to you and there was a crunch underneath his right foot. he lifted it and looked down, confusion coating his features. and then, there was nothing but terror.

he leaned down to pick up a tooth, skimming the area to notice another few molars scattered around your limp body. his eyes met with the bloodied pair of pillars on the ground, giving new and nightmarish reasoning to your blood-soaked mouth. peter looked back up to you and felt his knees give out.

he crawled closer, not daring to touch you to make anything worse. now, he got a better look at your face, and he almost wished he hadn't.

blood pooled down your chin and dripped onto your chest, notably from the missing teeth and whatever else they'd done to you that peter couldn't see evidence of. you let out a cough, but it came out more as a gag, blood filling your mouth at a higher rate than your body could handle. you choked, new waves of red liquid spilling from your lips and splattering across your torso as you fought to breathe.

somehow it wasn't your mouth that made peter feel faint, however. it was your eyes.

your eyelids had been crudely sewn shut, crusted over and bloody. your soft lids were torn to shreds, the flesh ripped raw — no doubt from unconscious efforts to open your eyes.

you let out a ragged breath. "hello? w-who's there?"

peter watched your eyes move underneath the lids frantically, the movement only proving his assumption correct as he watched the skin pull against the thread, flesh tearing apart at the struggle.

"hey hey hey, stop moving, please. calm down, it's just me. it's peter,"

he couldn't help the quiver in his voice, his body betraying him as tears flooded down his cheeks under the mask.

"i'm going to get you out of here, okay? i-i just need you to trust me, okay? i'm gonna get you out of here, i promise."

you nodded, the minimal movement enough to elicit a sharp cry from deep in your throat. peter winced, placing a hand on your head and running his fingers through your hair, careful not to get too close to your eyes.

"pete, i-i, please, i don't..."

karen's voice pierced through his mask, drowing out your pleas. "peter, we're losing her. you need to get her to the jet immediately."

he couldn't breathe. his vision was going dark around the edges, panic overtaking him as his eyes racked over your body, desperately hoping this was all just a horrible nightmare. at some point, the rest of the team had joined in on the fight, the sounds of gunshots and violence fading to the background as a ringing pierced his ears. he didn't know what to do, he didn't—

"p-peter? are you still there?" your trembling voice drew him out of his haze. he watched again as you fought to open your eyes, face controting in pain as you pulled against the thread. he grabbed your hand in his, giving it the faintest squeeze.

"hey, hey i'm sorry, i'm right here. please stop moving your eyes, try to relax them for me. i'm so sorry, (y/n), i'm so sorry." the last part a whisper.

you turned your head towards his voice, tears slipping through the loops in the thread. it rewet the blood crusted around your eyes, the tears running down your cheeks a pinkish-red.

"they told me i saw too much."

peter felt his stomach turn at your words, intrusive thoughts of them holding you down and stitching your eyes shut plaguing his mind.

"i'm so sorry, i...

"peter, you need to act quickly. start by removing the tubes from her arms." karen rang through his suit again.

he shook off the thought, bringing his attention back to you. "i need to get these tubes out, okay?"

you choked out an "okay", more blood spilling from your lips as you spoke.

"don't talk, okay? i'm going to get you out of here. just stay awake for me, please. i'm just gonna..." he placed his hand on one of the tubes, nauseous at their size in his hand.

he held tight, the movement alone from his grasp being enough to earn a whine from you, incoherent pleas to stop escaping your lips.

he felt panic bubble in his throat again. "karen, please. how do i do this, i... i don't... i don't know what i'm doing."

"it doesn't seem as though the tubes in her arms are intertwined with anything. the best course of action may be to pull as quickly as possible,"

peter could taste the bile in the back of his mouth.

"the tubing is about two feet long, peter. you're going to want to pull quickly and pull a lot further out than you think."

he took a deep breath, summoning all the willpower he had left. "okay, i'm going to take these out, alright? i need you to brave for me, this isn't going to feel great."

you choked out another "okay" as peter tightened his grasp on the tubing. he gave himself a mental countdown, closing his eyes and pulling as hard and as quickly as he could.

the sounds that filled his ears made him wish to never hear again. you let out a blood-curdling scream that forced an echo through the concrete room, the rasp in your voice telling peter you'd been crying out like this for hours. it broke his heart to hear you in so much pain, but somehow your deafening anguish wasn't the worst part.

he could hear as the tubing left your body. the squelching noises of the plastic running through your flesh burned to his memory, one he knew would haunt him at night. you let out another roar as the tubing left your body and peter opened his eyes, immediately looking at the now-open wound in your forearm. he no longer had to worry about the noises haunting him.

the tubing had left a gaping hole in your arm, a dark red mixture of various liquids splattering out of you. he was quick to throw a web on it, stopping the flow for now. he looked at you, tears blurring his vision.

"i'm sorry," he cried, out, nearly choking on his own sobs. "i need to keep going, i'm so sorry."

he grabbed the next one, wasting no time pulling as hard as he could. this time, however, he made the mistake of keeping his eyes open. he watched as the tubing moved from under your skin as though a snake was slithering inside of you, the bulging in your arms pulsing and raising as peter moved. the tubing hit the ground with a thud, and the next thing you could hear was peter dry heaving.

he continued with the other arm, apologies on his lips as though he was pleading for his own life. they were drowned out by your screams, the rasp in your tone growing stronger each time as you lost your ability to speak. you could feel your throat ripping apart as you cried, even more blood running down to your stomach than before. you heard the sounds of peter's webshooters and felt two more cool sensations on your left arm.

"okay, we just need to get the ones in your chest, okay? we're almost done, (y/n), i promise,"

he took a step back to examine the two tubes left before a voice cut through his ears.

"peter, you can't pull on these two, they're too close to her heart. you're going to need to sever them and leave them in so they can be taken out surgically."

the thought brought another gag to his throat. he nodded silently, reaching down to the boot on your left foot where he knew you always had a back up dagger hidden. he let out a sigh of relief as he felt the metal against his masked fingers, pulling out the knife and bringing it towards your chest. he noticed as your ragged breathing picked up.

"peter? w-what are you doing with that? what's going on, please?"

"it's okay. i have to leave these ones in here, okay? i'm going to cut them and then we're going to go," he held a firm hand on one of the tubes.

"you're going to feel some pressure, okay? you're going to feel me cutting it, and it's going—"

"—peter, she's losing consciousness. you need to make the cuts now."

"okay! okay, i— fuck, okay."

peter began to saw at the tubing, the back-and-forth movement ripping at the skin around the edges. it pulled, blood and dark liquid splashing out on your bare clavicle and turning everything he saw red. he braced for your scream, but felt even more panicked when he didn't hear one.

"hey hey, hey please no. please, stay with me, please i'm trying. just please stay alive."

he finished off the final tube, again using his webbing to seal the open ends and prevent anything else from going in (or coming out). he wrapped his arms around your limp frame, beginning to lift you. his whole body shook, the weight of the situation sitting on him like nothing he'd ever felt before. he let out a cry that hurt his chest, using everything he had left to get back to his feet.

he had you. he had you, and everything was going to be fine, he just needed to—

"kid, grab on!" tony yelled as he flew past, signaling peter to web himself onto his suit. he did so, holding you tight in his arms as tony flew them outside and towards the jet.

they landed outside, his arms shaking violently as he rushed you over to bruce who was waiting at the glider entrance.

"please, help her. please, you have to help her."

[bixbythemartian]

50+ Ways to Annoy the Death Witch

Chapter 1: Call her a Necromancer

Ch. 2 >>

I was on the porch sketching when Callahan showed up.

Callahan works for the Council and investigates witchy doings. Mostly in the vein of ‘please lets keep the normies from trying to murder us all’, though that concern has gone down a TON in the internet era.

You’d think it would be the opposite, right? Everybody has a camera, all the time. Surely they’d catch actual magic!

Yeah. They do, all the fuckin time, and they call it something else. Or they do call it magic, and they’re called crazy. You've seen 'em. The internet is full of people who think giants or aliens built the pyramids, people who claim they see shadow people, or think their neighbor controls the cows, they just don't stand out.

Anyway, work has dried up for Callahan and people like him, is my point. It's a much slower gig than it was back in the day.

Is he a witch cop? Ehhhh... he’s the closest we come. Mostly he’s just trying to keep us out of the news, like I said. If one of us was really out of line he’d take it to the council and let them handle it (usually by binding the witch’s magic), but that hasn’t happened in a couple of decades.

He still comes and crawls up my ass every time some teenager finds an old grimoire and brings back the family pet, or whatever.

I stood up as his truck came down the drive. That was my last big project, taking the gravel out and putting pavers in for the driveway. It was expensive as hell, but it means that I can just swap a paver out if one cracks, rather than having to have to deal with gravel all the time.

I do kind of miss the noise of the gravel, though.

That payday was from his last visit, come to think- usually he comes out because he's stumped, and after he's done accusing me of atrocities and grave robbing, he hires me to help him figure out who actually did it.

Pretty often it's some kid with too much magic and not enough sense trying to bring back someone they love. It's always sad, but that's easy to handle. By the time we get involved, they're usually pretty anxious for a solution, because it has gotten out of control.

He parked next to my pickup and got out, strolling over like he had all god damned day. He’s probably in his late 30s, dark hair and eyes. He lives up in the city, these days, but his grandparents went to high school with mine, in a town that gets smaller every year, and are buried in the same damned graveyard.

I first met him in that very graveyard.

“Hey there, Miss Tabitha,” he said. “How’s my favorite necromancer?”

I sighed. He annoys me so much.

“I know, I know, you don’t like being called that.”

“I’m not a necromancer,” I said, for probably the thousandth time.

“Sure, you’re a different kind of death magic witch. Whatever.”

“A necromancer is someone who uses magic to control corpses, and can be any type of witch. I’m a death witch, my power source is the death of any and all organic matter. Some witches get their power from the earth or the stars or weather, mine happens to come from a different natural force.” I don’t know where he gets his from. For a while I suspected it was hair gel, but he switched to wearing ballcaps.

I think he’s balding.

“And you use it to keep your neighbor’s chickens from getting sick and that’s it, huh?”

“I buy eggs off her,” I said. “Do you want something, or do you just get itchy if you haven’t accused me of something unholy?”

He clicked his tongue. “Well, now, there’s a cemetery out in Macomb that’s had some bodies dug up.”

“Macomb,” I said. I knew vaguely where it was- south of highway nine, east of where I lived, but pretty easy driving distance. I’d have to look at a map to be sure, but definitely a place I could drive out and back from in a day and still have plenty of time to get up to trouble. “You actually found a local crime to accuse me of, you’re getting a bit better at your job.” He rolled his eyes.

“What’s going on in Macomb?”

“Well, like I said, some bodies went missing. The cops say it’s funny, it’s almost like they dug themselves out."

"Well, they shouldn't be doin that," I said.

"Right? Coffins are there, just the bodies are gone. I know you’re gonna say it wasn’t you, but it wasn’t you, was it? That’s close enough that you probably draw power from that cemetery. Even if it was an accident?”

“There’s closer cemeteries. Norman has at least two that I know of.”

“Well, that’s fair,” he said. “I gotta ask. Necromancy shit in our neck of the woods? I gotta ask, Tabby.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said.

“Was it you?” he insisted.

“No, it wasn’t me,” I said.

“Alright, that’s all I needed to ask.” Once he'd asked and I'd answered, that was it, he didn't pester me about it again.

“Are you trying to get my help, or do you want to wander around with your thumb up your butt for a few days first?”

“Come on, Tabitha. We’ll pay you the usual rates,” he said.

I sighed at him, just so he knew I was annoyed. “Let me put some pants on and run a brush through my hair, and then I need to see the graves.”

“We’re taking my pickup,” he said. “So, if you’ve got a step stool-”

“Ha ha,” I said. “Wait here.” I took my sketchbook inside, and dropped it on the table by the door, went to find a brush and change into jeans. Grabbed my kit- it’s just got standard odds and ends that one might need when casting on the go, some prepared spells, all stuffed in an ancient maroon Jansport.

I’m probably going to have to get a new bag soon, I’ve had this one since 8th grade, and it’s really starting to wear out.

We head out.

He’s got a 70s Ford pickup he’s been restoring, to sell. Well, he’s been ‘restoring’ it about as long as I’ve been cleaning the house out so I can sell it, maybe longer, and I've been living in the house near a decade, so. Take that as you will.

It’s in decent shape on the inside, and the a/c works, and it’s matte primer gray on the outside, has been for years now.

The road out where I live is dirt, and then it goes to gravel, before you get on something paved.

He looked up in the rearview mirror. “You know, I just figured it was someone else who lived out this way when I came out, but I do believe I’m being followed.”

I looked in the sideview mirror. There was someone behind us, but it was hard to see them through all the dust the truck was kicking up.

Magic came rushing at the mirror, and snapped it off.

“Rude,” I said.

“Did they just snap off my mirror?”

I started cranking the window down. “Turn left if you have to turn, warn me if there’s a right curve,” I said, unbuckling my belt, and wrapping it around my leg. “But try to go straight as you can, that’ll help me aim.”

“It’ll help them aim, too.”

“Don’t worry about them.” Magic whined as it pinged off the vehicle. “You really should shield the pickup.”

“I’m just gonna sell it.”

I pulled myself out of the seat to sit on the window, one hand gripping the ‘oh shit’ handle, my legs clenching the door.

Late model SUV, something dark. I could see why he recognized it right away- it was a sort of dark red and had an engine snorkel. Also some extra lights on front- someone goes out in this truck. Mudding, looks like.

They had someone standing up through the sun/moon roof firing spells at us. He was using something that looks like a gun. That’s pretty common, these days, wands resembling guns.

Wands are a type of prepared spell, they hold charges and you fire off the charges until you’re out. Most people mostly use prepared spells.

Most people just can’t hold that much magic inside their bodies- there’s an upper limit- and so the best way to store the magic they gather from the wind or the stars or the grass or whatever their thing is to make spells and put the magic there. Even the more powerful witches, witches like me with a larger capacity for magic, they tend to store a lot in prepared spells.

Most sources trickle it in. So if you blow your magical load, as it were, you have to wait for it to come back. Recharge under a starlit sky where the light pollution is low. Or lay in the tickling grass.

There’s some exceptions. Sun witches- rare- basically can refuel constantly. Oh, it’s night? Oh, it’s cloudy? The heat in the ground beneath your feet comes from the sun. The sun is a constant, even when it’s not out. Sea witches, too- they have to be in range of the coast, but within that range, powerful. There’s also rumor of one lady up in the midwest who gathers her power specifically from the Great Lakes, and she’s supposed to be one of the most powerful witches in the world.

You know what's also around all the time? Dead shit.

If it is now dead and was ever alive, even briefly, it belongs to me.

Like his wand, a bit of dead wood. I sucked the power out of his wand, and whipped it out of his hand. “Knock it the fuck off!” I shout. I could barely see him, but he looked young.

He swore, shaking his hand. “Ram them!”

The driver I could see even less of, but I could see him shaking his head.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I said.

It takes a deep spike of power- the older and longer dead something is, the more briefly it was alive, the harder it is to fuck with.

Gasoline, for example, is derived from something that died at least 66 million years ago, so it’s kind of a big one.

The driver managed not to roll the car off the road as the car engine suddenly stopped working, and Callahan came to a stop.

I figured they'd be alright, they go out mudding, they're used to shit going wrong.

“The hell did you do? It took a ton of power. My nose hairs are burning.”

“Turned their gas into mesozoic algae for long enough to shut their car off,” I said.

"What?"

"Gas is made from crude oil. Crude oil is dead shit. Specifically, algae and plankton from the mesozoic."

"Huh. Your nose is bleeding," he said.

I wiped at my nose, untangled myself from the seatbelt, and managed to dismount from the window and land on both feet, which is about as much as I could ask for.

My right eye was throbbing- I’d drained myself to the last drop for that.

Still, there was a dead skunk on the road, and dead tree limbs, and I breathed magic in. The ache receded, but probably wouldn’t go away until I'd slept.

I walked up to their SUV, the driver keeping both hands on the wheel, like I was a cop. “Hey,” I said. “What the fuck?” I put my hand on the car, and converted all the ancient ocean sludge back into gas. That was easier, but it still made my eye throb.

The wand wielder jumped out of the SUV and got up in my face, tried to shove me against the car, but Callahan grabbed him and pulled him back.

“My grandparents crawled out of their grave, and everybody knows they got a pet necromancer around here. I want them back.”

Now, I’m not actually that easy to intimidate, and he was just a snot-nosed kid who’s barely old enough to drink, if that. But he was also angry to cover up being scared.

“Well, we’re on our way to find out what’s happened. Having to stop for your bullshit isn’t helpful," Callahan said.

“Everybody knows it was you.”

“Sweetheart, if I was raising the dead, why would I start with your kin? I don’t know you, I don't know your grandparents."

He looked at the driver. He had bleached his hair and it was a sort of peachy pink that could have been intentional or it could have been to light a pink over too orange a bleach. The driver had blue-black hair that was definitely box dye. They both looked indecisive.

"It’s probably someone who know your grandparents. It’s like a murder- it’s almost always someone who knows the victim,” I said. He's just a grieving kid, they both are.

“But you’re the only necromancer in the state, maybe the country,” he said. His heart wasn't really in it, though. He was just upset.

“I’m not a necromancer,” I said. “I am a death witch. It’s not the same thing. They died recently?”

He nodded. “We spent a lot of time living with em, Mom was in and out of rehab, and Dad… I don’t know. He wasn’t around until we were older.”

“You get your magic from this side, or your Daddy’s side?”

“They had magic, but they say I got mine from Dad, and he gets his from Mom.” He jerked his head at his brother in the driver's seat.

“Okay. Why don’t you get out in front, we’ll head on out to the gas station, because I need a fuckin energy drink, and then we can go take a look. Sometimes I can see stuff nobody else can, and I have a good nose for corpses.”

“You really think you can find them?”

"I don't know for sure about finding their bodies, but I'm positive we'll get to the bottom of this," I said.

He nodded and, almost sheepish, headed back to the SUV.

“Just try and start her again,” I told the driver. “I’ll top you off at the Valero station, that trick probably pulled some out of your tank.”

The car started, and they pulled around us and sped off.

“You think they’ll be at the gas station?” Callahan asked.

“Mmm. Fifty fifty, but they’ll be at the cemetery, which is what I really care about. C’mon, I want a Monster.”

“You keep drinking that crap, your heart’ll stop.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, climbing into the truck. “Let’s go.”\

Ch. 2 >>

If you read this and enjoyed it, maybe you want to help out and contribute to my ko-fi? I'm disabled and that's the best way for me to earn a living right now! Check out my masterpost for other fiction.

[velvet4510]

You know, when it comes to the four Cherik actors, the old men walked so the young men could run.

We all give McAvoy and Fassbender the love they deserve, but honestly we wouldn’t have any onscreen Cherik at all if those two old Shakespeare vets hadn’t laid such a strong foundation a whole decade prior in the original trilogy.

Remember that Stewart and McKellen had no beach divorce to work off of. First Class wasn’t even a thought in any writer’s head yet when the OG trilogy was filmed. And yet they understood the assignment from day 1 - the “exes who never got over each other” vibes are just pouring off of both of them in every scene, especially from their eyes, starting from the very first moment Stewart’s jaw drops and his breathing stops as he sees McKellen in the shadows of the Congress crowd, and McKellen then manages to make a threatening line like “don’t get in my way” sound so … gentle. Be it outside Congress or in the plastic prison or outside Jean’s house, you can feel the weight of their shared history bearing down on them, a weight so palpable it’s on the verge of crushing them both every time they so much as lock eyes.

And you can see echoes of the young men Charles and Erik used to be in their performances … you can fill in the gaps with First Class details thanks to their level of nuance.

Every time they call each other “old friend,” you can hear the underlying emotions they haven’t figured out how to express aloud, and the hidden knowledge that those two words only scratch the surface of what they really are to each other.

Within Stewart’s heartbroken look in all of his closeups in their first scene on the Congress walkway in X1, you can see the yearning of a man remembering the first time this other man walked away from him and wishing he knew how to convince him to stay now, like he did then.

Within McKellen randomly name-dropping Charles throughout the trilogy (like when Sabretooth reports the X-Men knew about Rogue and when he’s headed to Alcatraz), you can hear the obsession of a guy embittered by years of opposition but with a secret piece of his heart still living in that moment when he first heard a beautiful voice in his head pulling him back from the darkness.

Within Stewart’s whispered “what’s happened to you?” at the sight of a bruised eye, you can see the grief of a man remembering the sense of a wave of horror and trauma pouring off someone down in the water, and now seeing that same someone has been abused again, and just like then, he wasn’t there to stop it, to protect Erik from getting hurt.

Within their suppressed smiles in the prison scenes and their repartee outside young Jean’s house, you can tell these two banged 40 years ago. You can feel faint echoes of the two guys who once sat on a bed showing off their powers and saying stuff like “more tea, vicar?” and “you’ve never looked more beautiful, darling.” (I even noticed that at the end of X1, in the “I will always be there” exchange, the camera placement leaves their hands out of frame, so they’re obviously touching each other’s arms in that moment but we can’t see exactly where - it makes me imagine that Charles briefly touched Erik’s hand before being wheeled away and that’s why Erik sits frozen for a moment before toppling his king. Again, it’s those actors’ nuances that give birth to these implications.)

Within McKellen’s facial expression of pure anguish and his scream of “CHARLES!” at Jean’s house, you can hear the soul being ripped from the body of a man whose life was, long ago, forever changed by the words “there’s so much more to you than you know, not just pain and anger … there’s good too, I felt it…”

You know two actors are at the top of their game when they’re able to convey the exact history of their two characters long before any actual prequels imprint that history in canon.

I do wonder if Stewart and McKellen watched First Class before they filmed Days of Future Past - it’s impossible to tell because regardless, they once again gave it their all, especially in the Rogue Cut. They took a little sentence “in other words, a door” and a little piece of direction to smirk and nod, and somehow made it one of the most flirtatious/erotic moments of the series. And then of course at the end, they gave us the most heartbreaking moment of the series and one of the top 10 most heartbreaking moments in any comic-book movie ever, period. You know the one.

I’m just so impressed with them for what they started. It all started with them. They knew what they were doing.

[ancientpersacom]

I know people have pointed this out before but these pictures,,, the fact they're canon. Let me just yap for a second.

This is photographic proof of Sebastian's existence. He let himself be pictured, even leaned into it. Except he has no birth certificate, no ID presumably and no record of his life pre butler. On the record, he appears into the world as an adult, working for the phantomhive family as a butler. And when his contract ends and Ciel eventually dies, he'll completely disappear again. No more photos of him, no written records like his signature on something or mentions of him in letters etc.

Unless, he faked it all. Did he create a fake birth certificate and ID? Did he make up a backstory for the 'Sebastian' persona? A birthday and birthplace? Education? Previous jobs? Because being a butler for a NOBLE family would require some kind of qualification right?

So my question: did Sebastian create an entire human identity for this butler contract, to as thoroughly as possible disguise himself? Or is he a complete historical mystery? A man who only exists on record as the butler to a noble family then disappears? No childhood, no death, he just shows up and vanishes.

And also...

This picture. The reapers are caught on camera.

And these three WOULD have record of their existence from their human lives... expect it'd be decades maybe even centuries before this picture. There'd be death certificates for William Spears, Ronald Knox and Grell Sutcliff. And yet here they are, seemingly alive and STILL as old as the day they died.

Now Grell, she may be able to get away with it given her transition. She was still passing as a man when she died, and now passes (mostly, her voice is likely what gives her AGAB away during this period) as a woman. So unless someone had a really good eye, they might not be able to connect this woman to the Grell sutcliff that died.

But Will and Ron? You could connect them to their human lives.

So while Sebastian as a historical mystery because where did he come from and where did he go, the reapers are a historical mystery because aren't they meant to be dead? Like a whole century ago?

And Grell, if no one could connect her to her pre-transition life, would be another 'who the hell is this person, where did they come from, where did they go?' Situation.

The modern historans who are looking into the sinking of Campania and the legacy of the Phantomhive nobles are in for a real frustrating set of mysteries.

[scary-grace]

Here is a follow-up to the Hana Lives AU, in honor of White Day (because technically it's still White Day in my time zone!).

secret admirer

You have a crush on your best friend's little brother, and you don't know how to handle it -- except that donating your life-force to your crush's dog is probably the wrong thing to do.

You’ve been lying about your quirk for as long as you can remember, because you were ordered to. Your quirk emerged when you were three or so, and at first, everyone thought you were a healer. Why else would everyone who hugged you feel better afterwards, even if you came away tired and drained? It wasn’t until you were five that the true nature of your quirk was revealed. Your quirk allows you to transfer portions of your life-force from yourself to another living being, extending their life by the same measure that you’ve shortened your own. The doctors estimated that you lost close to a decade before your quirk was properly identified.

You’d be more okay with that if you knew how long you were working with in the first place, but there’s no way to measure it. The government has a thousand and one ways to classify quirks, and yours falls into a very specific category — exploitable by others, dangerous to you. Quirks in that category are erased from all but the most classified documents and replaced with harmless ones, typically aligned to the person’s interests or strengths. That’s how you wound up with ‘baking’ as your quirk. It was something you were already getting good at, because you needed a way to show people you loved them without touching them.

One side effect of your quirk getting memory-holed is that you never got quirk-counseling that would actually help. You don’t know what causes your quirk to activate. You don’t have any control. All you know is that sometimes it’s there and sometimes it’s not, and that nobody else can ever find out that it’s there at all.

“Tenko asked when you’re coming over again,” Hana says, the Monday after you all got together to study at her house. “I think he wants to ask you to make more treats for Mon.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say, trying not to do something silly like blush or faint. “Did he go through them already?”

“No, but look at this.” Hana takes out her phone, opens her text conversation with her brother, and scrolls past eighteen texts in a row to a video clip. “Those treats must be magic or something. Mon hasn’t done real zoomies in years.”

You weren’t sure how far the life-force you gave Mon would go, but when it comes to human life-force and dogs, a little apparently goes a long way. Mon is zipping around through the Shimuras’ living room, hopping up on the couches and taking flying leaps off the armrests, and in the background, Tenko is laughing so hard that he can’t hold the camera steady. You really, really like Tenko’s laughter. Hearing it brings butterflies to your stomach and a flush to your cheeks.

“You know,” Hana says, glancing sideways at you, “it’s nice that you’re okay about Tenko and Mon. People keep saying he’s weird for being so obsessed with his dog.”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” you say at once. “It’s — nice. How much he loves him.”

“Mon’s so old now,” Hana says quietly. “My mom is worried about what’s going to happen to Tenko when he dies. I’m worried, too. So, um — if you are putting some kind of magic in those treats —“

“I’ll keep it up,” you say. “Send me that video if you want to. It’s really cute.”

Hana sends it to you, and you watch it at least once a day, even though listening to Tenko’s laughter makes you a little giddy. Knowing Mon feels good enough to run is worth what you gave up. You never really doubted that it was, but it’s nice to have the reminder.

But you won’t have time to go over to the Shimuras’ house any time soon. White Day is coming up, and the custom baked goods you do on the side are being ordered at an alarming rate — and even though your supposed quirk is baking, not chocolate-making, you keep getting orders for chocolates anyway. Most people just want standard truffles with specific flavors. One person is insane.

“A box of chocolates in a chocolate box? Do I look like the chocolate guy on TikTok to you?”

“You look like you need money,” Shindo says, and you glare at him. “Can you do it or not?”

You glance at the makeshift order form he just handed you. He’s a jerk, but he drew you a diagram of what he wants, which means you can give him an answer. “I can do it, but it’s gonna cost you.”

“How much?” Shindo’s eyebrows go up when you name the figure, but he whips out his phone and Venmos you anyway. “Monday morning. It had better be ready by then.”

“Monday morning.” You sigh and kiss the remainder of your weekend goodbye. At least you’re making money.

At least you’re making money, but it comes back to bite you later. “Studying at my house on Sunday,” Hana says, and your heart sinks. “Can you come over?”

You shake your head. “I have all my orders to do —“

“I thought you said Sunday was your day off.”

“It was going to be, but then I got this order from Shindo —“ You show it to her and see her eyes widen. “It’s going to take all day.”

“You can really make something like that? Wow.” Hana stares at it for a moment longer. “Okay, what if we come over to your place? We’ll just hang out and study — and talk to you if you want to be distracted — or help — and you can study with us while you’re waiting for stuff to cool or dry or whatever. What do you think?”

“That would be okay,” you say hesitantly. You’re kind of embarrassed at the thought of your friends seeing you shred your kitchen, but it would be nice to have company. “Come over around noon?”

“You got it.” Hana grins at you. “It’ll be fun, I swear!”

It seems like a good idea at first, but by Sunday morning, it’s worn off, because you remembered which quirk you’re supposed to have. Baking. Sure, making chocolates in a chocolate box isn’t exactly baking, but it’s adjacent, and because it’s your quirk, you’re supposed to be effortlessly good at it. You aren’t going to be effortlessly good at it. It’s going to be a mess, and your friends are going to see, and they’re going to have questions about whether your quirk is really baking after all.

The doorbell rings, and you rinse your hands quickly and hurry to open it without taking off your apron. “Hi, Hana. Yue and Manami aren’t here yet, but —“

You open the door the rest of the way and break off, puzzled. Puzzled changes fast into shocked, because Hana’s not alone on your front step. Tenko’s standing next to her, and he’s holding Mon. You can barely see his face behind Mon’s ears, but you hear his raspy voice loud and clear. “Hi.”

“I didn’t invite Yue and Manami,” Hana says, “so unless you did, this is we.”

You’re too shocked to say anything. Hana’s confidence falters ever so slightly. “Is that okay?”

“Um — yes. Yes! That’s totally fine!” You give up on trying to cover your surprise. “Come in.”

Hana’s been to your place before, enough that she doesn’t have a problem taking off her shoes and making herself comfortable, but Tenko hesitates in the doorway, trying to pry off his shoes while still juggling Mon. “You can put him down. It’s okay,” you say. Tenko sets Mon down and drops his leash, and Mon runs off to explore. “Um, hi.”

“You couldn’t come over, so we decided to come and see you,” Tenko says. He’s really focused on untying his shoes. He always wears the same red sneakers, and the same pair of gloves. “Hana says you bake stuff and sell it. I can pay for more treats for Mon.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say hastily. Tenko looks up at you. “Those are easy to make, and not expensive — I mean, I used quality ingredients, Mon deserves the best — but they don’t take much time, so it’s not really —“

“But if everybody else has to pay —“

“Not my friends.”

Tenko’s eyes widen. He looks cute when he’s surprised, but then again, you think he looks cute all the time. “I thought you were just Hana’s friend. We’re friends, too?”

“Of course,” you say. A cautious smile crosses Tenko’s face, and a dozen follow-ups occur to you — explaining why, explaining that it’s not just because of Hana or Mon, admitting that you’d be more than friends if he wanted to. But before you can say a word, a timer starts going off in the kitchen. You can’t remember what it’s for, but you know it’s probably important. You mumble an apology to Tenko and race into the kitchen, feeling like you dodged a bullet and feeling really dumb at the same time.

The chocolate box is a pain to make, just like you thought it would be, but you at least get some studying time in while you’re waiting for the chocolate in the sides to set. You and Hana are studying for an exam, while Tenko is trying to write a research paper on quirk history. Mon explores your apartment, then settles under the kitchen table, half asleep on your feet and half asleep on Tenko’s. Whenever you have to get up, he makes sure to grumble in protest.

“He’s fine,” Hana says, after the third time you apologize to Mon for having to get up. “I had no idea you had this many orders. I didn’t think guys cared that much about White Day.”

“I think guys care about not getting in trouble with their girlfriends,” you say. Most of your attention is going into piecing together the chocolate box. “Girls tend to go really hard for Valentine’s Day, and most guys don’t want to put in that kind of effort. So they outsource it.”

“At least you get to make money,” Hana says, and you nod. “Think you’ll get anything for White Day this year?”

You shrug. “What about you?”

You know the answer to that one — one of your orders is for her. You made sure to finish it and hide it before she got here. “Maybe. I don’t know,” Hana says. “Tenko, are you giving anybody anything?”

Tenko makes a startled sound, and you picture him blushing, averting his eyes. “I didn’t get anything on Valentine’s Day.”

“You don’t have to get something on Valentine’s Day to give somebody something for White Day,” Hana scolds. “Come on. I know there are cute girls in your class. What about Ayaka? Or Chisato? How about —”

Your stomach twists, and worse, your hands shake, messing up the placement of the last side of the box. Now the entire thing’s at risk of caving in, and you can’t hold the entire thing together and place the last side at the same time. “Oh, no —“

“What?” Tenko’s chair skids out, and a moment later he’s in the kitchen with you. You don’t have a chance to explain — anything — before his hands come up to steady the sides you can’t get to. “Is this right? Should I hold it somewhere else?”

“No,” you say, stunned. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to get your gloves dirty.”

“It’s okay,” Tenko says. When you pictured him blushing after Hana asked him about girls, you must have been right — his cheeks are pink. “You’ve been working really hard on this. I don’t want anything to happen to it.”

“Thanks,” you say. Your heart is missing beats all over the place, both from the near miss with the box and from being this close to Tenko. You’ve never been this close to him when Mon wasn’t involved. “It shouldn’t be long. I just need the whole thing to set.”

You affix the last side of the box, then steady it as well, taking care that your hands don’t overlap with Tenko’s. “This is for Shindo?” Tenko clarifies, and you nod. “I hope you made him pay a lot.”

“It’s the most expensive thing I’m making this year,” you say. “I just hope it doesn’t start a trend or something. Making more than one of these — maybe if I had a bakery or something. Definitely not like this.”

“Would you want a bakery?” Tenko asks. His gloved hands are steady, even though both his index fingers are lifted. “Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do.”

“Don’t quiz her,” Hana warns from the kitchen table. “We have to do enough career stuff already.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You glance up at Tenko, then look away in a hurry. His eyelashes are really long. “It’s nice of you to say that. Usually people just assume I’ll be a baker or a pastry chef or something.”

“You’d be good at that,” Tenko says. “But you should do something you like.”

You nod. The box is coming together, finally — soon you’ll be able to let go. Tenko doesn’t move, or complain about having to stay there, and he jumped up to help you right away. As far as your crush on him goes, that’s really bad news for you, and all at once, you wished you hadn’t chickened out on making him something for Valentine’s Day. In your class, almost all the boys wind up getting chocolate from somebody, even if no girl in particular has a crush on them. The idea that all the girls in Tenko’s class missed the boat — and that you missed it too — breaks your heart a little bit. Making dog biscuits for Mon is nice, but it’s not the same thing as making something just for him.

“White Day,” Tenko says, and you glance up at him again. “Do you think you’ll get anything?”

“Probably not.” It feels embarrassing to admit to the boy you have a crush on that nobody’s ever interested in you, but you don’t want to lie. “It’s okay, though. After today I never want to see another chocolate bar in my life.”

Tenko laughs, and you fight the urge to tilt your head sideways and rest it against his shoulder. “What are you guys doing in there?” Hana asks. You hear her chair scrape back, too. “Can I help?”

“Um, sure. The box is okay, but I still have to make all the decorations.” You let go of it cautiously, and Tenko does the same — but he doesn’t go back to the table. “If you want to help with that, you can.”

“We do,” Tenko says at once. “Right, Hana?”

“Definitely. We don’t hate chocolate yet.” Hana steps into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves. “Where do we start?”

Hana, Tenko, and Mon stay until your mom gets home from work and their mom calls to ask where they are, and everything goes faster with their help. The fact that you get your orders done at all is thanks to the Shimuras. Once they leave, it’s all you can do to clean up the kitchen, make dinner for yourself and your mom, and stumble through the rest of your homework before bed.

Monday morning is busy. You got so many orders this year that you have to bring them in a wagon, and you set up shop out just outside the school’s front doors to hand it all out. You’re expecting Shindo to complain about the box — he’s that kind of guy — but instead he’s visibly impressed. “This will work,” he says as he picks it up — carefully, like you warned him. “Thanks.”

Even if baking isn’t really your quirk, you’re good enough at it to make a lot of people happy. As you make your way into the school, you see a lot of your packages being opened, a lot of people smiling. You’ll be busy next year, and next year, you’ll make sure to have something for Tenko on Valentine’s Day. Even if it’s just as friends, since you’re officially friends now. And maybe he’ll get you something for White Day, even if it’s just to be nice. It would be nice to get something once.

But when you step into your homeroom class and head for your desk, you get a shock, because unlike last year and every year in middle school before that, your desk isn’t empty. There’s a small plushie sitting there, with a bag of sour candies propped up against it.

The plushie is a brown and white dog, with perked-up ears and big round eyes, and when you pick it up, its fur is ridiculously soft. The package of sour candies is a flavor you like, a brand you haven’t tried before, and there’s no note. Is it even for you? Maybe whoever put it here got your desk mixed up for someone else’s. That would make more sense than —

“If you know who left you that, you should give it back,” Yue says as she flops down into the seat next to you. “Everybody knows you’re supposed to give chocolate.”

That’s right. Everybody knows that, so anybody would, unless they knew better. Unless they’d heard you say it. Like Tenko did.

You tell yourself to hold it together. Not to get ahead of yourself, or assign more meaning to this than there actually is, or assume that it’s anything more than Tenko just being nice. Because he is nice, and the two of you are friends, and he knew you weren’t going to get a White Day gift from anybody else. You tell yourself that, but it doesn’t matter. You spend the rest of homeroom in a daze, running your fingers over the plushie’s ears again and again, as a hummingbird flutter of hope spreads slowly through your veins. Maybe. Maybe there’s a chance he likes you, too.

<- part 1

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