#anyways i am sick and slightly loopy so if things have been weird around here that's why

[yesistolethisurl]

this will only make sense if I reach a certain part in "Fate's Spindle," but I see Atavian as having echoes of both odysseus and being a bastardized lazarus, and i cannot elaborate further than that at the moment

[gwenspter]

hi love ヾ(•ω•`)o i heard you didn't have any ideas so... here i am lol, i was wondering if you could do something where peter takes care of reader while they're sick? i havent been feeling too well lately and i've been finding myself imagining this a lot (which might be weird hahaha) i really think you could write something amazing with this hdjeshuehv. i hope you have fun writing it if you ever do <3

𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙄𝙀𝘿.

SUMMARY || You’re sick and Peter decides to take care of you, whether you like it or not. PAIRING || Peter Parker x gn!reader WARNINGS || English isn’t my first language, might be shitty writing, sickness, reader sneezes, fluff WORD COUNT || 900+ A/N || I wrote this at 4 am so I'm sorry for any mistakes I missed and I really enjoyed writing this so thank you for sending in a request! <3

You groan as you roll to the other side of the bed, tangling your blankets to yourself in the process. You felt so exhausted you didn’t expect your sickness to get worse. It was only just a cold that you thought was going to last for two days or so. But imagine your surprise when the day after that you caught a fever too. Now you’re stuck here at your house, home alone because your parents were on a business trip.

With no one to take care of your miserable state, you dreaded even moving an inch of your limbs. But you know you have to do it sooner. Hearing a chime come from under the pillow, you were resting your head on. You sluggishly put your hand under it to get your phone. Looking at the screen, it was a call from Peter. You furrowed your eyebrows. You were pretty sure you didn’t make plans for today. Accepting the call, you put your phone beside you.

“Hello? Y/N?” Peter’s voice was laced with worry. You can already picture him with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips doing his signature tight-lipped smile.

You opened your mouth to say something but you got interrupted by a sneeze. Fuck. The cover is blown. You never really wanted Peter to know when you were sick most of the time because he would baby you. Not that it was a bad thing. It’s just that you never wanted him to worry about you just because you had a common cold or anything else. You hated seeing your boyfriend be in distress because of you, even though he did look quite adorable.

“Oh,” Realization hit Peter when he heard you sneeze through the phone. “Be there at ten-!” He quickly told you. You wanted to protest but he has already ended the call. Letting out a sigh, you cuddle back at the warmth and comfort of your bed. What could you do anyway? He’s coming whether you like it or not.

Ten minutes passed and, true to his word. Peter was there at the front door. Opening the front door with ease as he had the spare key to your house. You were honestly surprised that your parents quickly approved of him, given that they were strict with your relationships. Peter looked around the house. Your home was already like a second home to him. He has this whole place memorized already.

Rushing to your bedroom, he carefully carried the bag he had with him. Opening your bedroom door slowly, he saw you splayed out on the bed. Eyes closed, a serene look on your face. He couldn’t help but stay there in silence, eyes looking at you in admiration, a loopy grin on his face. Oh, how much he adores you. 

Walking up to you slowly, you thrash for a bit before calming down. Sitting beside you, Peter softly shook you awake. Putting his hand on your forehead in the process. Opening your eyes slowly, you come in sight of Peter’s beautiful face. 

“Hi, Petey.” You murmured to him, snuggling your head on his lap. He chuckles at that, gently pulling your torso forward and pushing you slightly to the back of your bed so that you can rest your head on your headboard. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You should have told me you were sick. I could have gotten here sooner.” He looked at you, a frown forming on his face.

“I know it’s just that I didn’t want to trouble you with it. I thought it was only going to be a cold but it wasn’t.”

“Angel, you know you would never trouble me, alright? Now, if you need me, promise me that you’ll call me.”

“Mmm, I promise.” You look at him as your lips quirk upwards, smiling as you hear your heart fluttering from the presence of Peter. Looking slightly beside him, you can see a bag there. There looks to be something inside of it. Peter must have noticed you looking at it because he took the bowl inside it and gave it to you.

Looking at it while you take it from Peter. You noticed that it was porridge. You can feel a million butterflies move in your stomach. You once mentioned to Peter that whenever you were sick, your mom would cook you some porridge. It brought you some sense of happiness because it meant that Peter genuinely likes to listen to your useless ramblings.

“Peter?”

“Hm, yeah?”

“How am I going to, uhm, eat this?”

“What do you mean-? Oh, oh. Be right back!”

You let out a small laugh because of your boyfriend. Dork, but at least he’s your dork. Not even a minute later and he comes back with a spoon. He also came back with a towel? What could that be? You concluded that it was for you because Peter came into your bathroom, and you could hear the water from the tap flowing to the tub.

“Buttercup?” You heard Peter scream one of his pet names for you, feeling the heat rise to your face. It’s already been a few months since you started dating, and you can’t believe he still has this type of effect on you.

“Yes?”

“Do you want bath bombs or not?”

“Yes, please!”

“Okay!”

You know, maybe Peter taking care of you while you were sick isn’t a bad thing after all.

[boycottphil]

Omg if you're writing usuk can you please do something involving the Beatles/Beatlemania or the British Invasion in general? Theres so much good material there but no one really writes about it. I will love you forever

For context, I am taking fanfic requests!

This was a lot of fun to write! I wasn’t too sure if this is what you meant, anon, but if it’s not, feel free to send another ask! I’d be happy to write more. Anyway, enjoy!

Pairing: UsUk Rating: T Warnings: Strong language, mentions of blood, smoking (cigarettes)  Word count: 2026  

Imagine hundreds of thousands of people screaming your name. Imagine hundreds of thousands of people obsessing over your every step, word, move… Imagine loving every second of the intrusive behaviour displayed by fans.

Arthur, the lead singer of the “best band in history,” lived off of such things. Fame… It brought him joy, joy which he previously thought was impossible for him to feel. He was surrounded by security, yet his favourite moments were those when a fan managed to get to him, and looked at him with amazement in their eyes…

Looked at him as if he were a god.

[[MORE]]

Now, one could say that such thoughts and such behaviour was perhaps a bit… unhealthy. And one would be right. Arthur was sick; getting off on his own fame, and as he gathered more and more fans all over the world with each tour, he felt better. And better.

His band was good, not the best band in the world, per say, but definitely good. Their music was largely enjoyed by a female audience. Girls loved to imagine the songs being sung to them personally. They were written to be perceived that way. No names of girls were mentioned… no hints at any particular gender were given either.

Now, there were rumours, as there always are surrounding any band as huge as Arthur’s. Rumours like selling their souls to the devil, rumours like being robots invested by the government. Rumours like… being gay.

Arthur could only benefit from rumours that claimed he was an alien. It added more mystery to his character, more reasons for people to check out his music, come to his concerts. However…

Rumours that claimed he was gay could destroy his career. The thing is… he is gay. He does not fancy women at all. He couldn’t care less when girls form whole crowds and take off their shirts and bras. He didn’t care about his bandmate’s groupies offering threesomes or foursomes or ogies. He’d rather bang his bandmates if he didn’t despise them all.

He came quite close to having his career ruined, though.

One day, while touring the United States, they stopped in middle-of-nowhere-town of some State that Arthur thought was made up by the Americans to make it to 50 states in the first place. He was still convinced there aren’t 50 of them, but 10 divided into five parts each. But he would not express that opinion. Lest someone shot him for even mentioning the USA in any context that doesn’t presents it as the best country on the planet.

It was a town they were merely passing through, but they had to stop for fuel and food and for the drivers to rest a bit as well. Arthur wore his sunglasses and had clothes on that he wasn’t known for wearing, and decided to walk around town a bit. They had a few hours, and he wasn’t about to pass the opportunity to stretch his legs and turn off his brain a bit. Touring meant little walking and too much work, so moments such as those were few and far between.

He had purchased a box of cigarettes, which he planned to get through before he had to be locked in a fast moving vehicle again; in which he wasn’t allowed to smoke. With a fag already lit and dangling off his lips, he walked out onto the pavement, ready to resume his walk just when…

He was bumped into by some 5 foot 6 tall boy. He groaned as his cigarette fell into a puddle, together with his sunglasses. He grumbled and hurried to retrieve his glasses but, well… the kid already saw.

“Arthur Kirkland?! No way!!” He yelled too loudly, his voice far too deep for what Arthur assumed was a 13 year old boy.

“Shh!” Arthur shushed and then wrapped an arm around the other’s head and covered his mouth so he couldn’t make more noise. He felt screaming behind his hand and the boy seemed to be losing his mind just from being touched. Arthur did love attention… but not in some hick town when he was looking for a quiet place to smoke and meditate until he had to leave again.

He dragged the other into an alley- not a suspicious thing to do at all- and shushed him until the other stopped freaking out. He rambled about being touched and carried by Arthur, all of which was technically true, but it sounded so much more dramatic coming out of the kid’s mouth.

“Okay, listen here, kid-” he started, but was promptly interrupted.

“Kid? I’m 19!” He argued.

Arthur looked annoyed, but slightly less on-edge about dragging him into a dark alley. “Whatever, mate. Just stop screaming like a bloody schoolgirl. I don’t want this whole town to know we’re here. The paparazzi would hound us for hundreds of miles, like they did in the last town this happened in.” He explained as he lit his second cigarette- he was mourning the first.

“So you really are Arthur Kirkland?” The other asked, already taking off the backpack he had on and reaching for the first paper and pen he had. “Would you please sign this?” He asked, his bright blue eyes shining in anticipation.

Arthur frowned, but he took the pen and, without really looking or even thinking about it, produced a perfect loopy signature.

“Whoaa… That’s so cool! My name’s Alfred so could you…”

Arthur added, ‘for Alfred, stay cute’ at the bottom, as he does for all signatures, merely replacing the name.

“You think I’m cute?! Wow, Arthur Kirkland thinks I’m cute!!” Alfred said, his voice so high pitched in excitement that Arthur almost really did think he was cute.

“No, mate- I write that for everyone. Most of my fans are girls, you see and-” once again, he was interrupted.

“But you do think I’m cute! I can tell. You keep looking at me,” Alfred insisted, perhaps a bit cheekily. Arthur blinked, trying not to seem too taken  aback.

“I, uh… I don’t… What?” He was usually never speechless. He always had a way to make a fan swoon over him with smooth comebacks and flirty lines that made girls go absolutely mad. But this was a boy. A boy who had called him out on his obvious interest in him, and a boy who, while excited to see him, clearly didn’t think he was a god.

Weird. He was supposed to always be seen as a god. What else could he be seen as?

“So… if you could keep this meeting to yourself for the next 24 hours, that would be bloody fantastic. Now, if you excuse me…” he mumbled and started walking away. He thought Alfred would be satisfied enough with that; he got an autograph and a hug- sort of. But no…

“So where are you headed now?” Came the American voice of the 19 year old who just decided to tag along.

Arthur felt his blood beginning to boil just a bit. “That is literally none of your business. Literally.” He sighed, exasperated.

Alfred fell into step beside him, keeping up easily even as the Brit tried to speed up. “Aw, come on! I won’t tell. I know how to keep secrets! I’m great at it. This one time, my cousin Austin, he told me that he and his aunt on his mum’s side-”

Arthur stopped abruptly. “How the fuck are you good at keeping secrets?”

“Well… I… You don’t know my cousin Austin, do you?”

Arthur groaned and kept walking, now deciding to ignore Alfred entirely. The teen though; he decided that he would ignore Arthur ignoring him. The Brit continued walking and smoking his cigarette as if Alfred wasn’t right there, and talking his ears off about dinosaurs and spaceships and how much he loved boys and how he knew Arthur could relate and-

Wait.

They had at that point reached a park, which was perhaps the size of two average backyards. There was no one around, and Arthur really appreciated it.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, his blood really getting to a simmer.

“Well, you know… You’ve never been seen with a girl, you never touch girls, you don’t talk about girls, you don’t even seem interested to all the girls we just passed while getting here. At all. You’re gay, and I can tell,” Alfred claimed.

“I have absolutely no idea where you get those ideas from. How would you know what I do in my free time?” He crossed his arms, perhaps a bit defensively.

“You look at my lips and arms so much, and you’ve looked at my ass too. I’m not dumb, you know! There’s no shame in being gay, Arthur. It’s all just-”

Arthur was angry at that point. He threw his half finished cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, then turned to face Alfred. “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you’re gay and you think making up lies is going to turn me gay, then forget about it. All right? I don’t even mess with groupies in the first place. Would you kindly leave me the fuck alone now?” He said loudly, keeping his composure enough not to yell at this kid.

“You’re just mean and in denial because you think if you come out that girls will stop obsessing over you. That’s okay. If you don’t want a groupie because all of them are girls, that’s understandable. But I mean… I’m free. I ran away from home a week ago. I have nowhere to be so… I could come with you. Warm your bed at night. Maybe do a few more other things too. Like ride you while you-”

Arthur punched him. He got too heated, too angry, amd he just… threw the punch. His knuckles ached after, and Alfred was holding onto his bleeding nose. It didn’t seem broken, but knowing the consequences of literally punching someone, Arthur began briskly walking away.

He should have expected to see the American again, before he even managed to walk down half a block. How he could cradle a bloody nose and run after him was a miracle.

“That was so rude!! I did not deserve to be fucking punched, man! I was just teasing you, dude! It’s literally not my fault that you are hiding your repressed homosexuality-”

“Stop. Calling. Me. Gay.” He growled, taking one step closer to the teen with each word uttered.

Alfred was practically pinned to a wall just then, looking up at the Brit with wide blue eyes. He was tall and handsome and…

And he kissed Alfred before he could get socked again. Instead of being pushed away and hit, as Alfred expected he would, he was pulled closer and kissed intensely enough to have all the air sucked out of his lungs.

Arthur pulled away seconds later, practically pushing himself off Alfred. Even behind his sunglasses, his eyes looked wide and shocked at what he had done. He looked around, then took Alfred’s hand and ran toward the bus.

He fucked up. He fucked up big time. But that’s okay… No one saw. And if he just kept Alfred with him on tour at all times… No one would find out that he was gay. At all.

“Is everything you need in that backpack?” He asked Alfred, out of breath from running, once they arrived at the bus.

“Yeah, why?” He asked and took off his backpack so he could take some tissues out and clean the blood off his face.

“Good. You’ll be coming with us on tour,” Arthur stated bluntly, not even bothering to listen for a yes or a no. Alfred grinned like a kid and hopped into the bus behind Arthur, already reaching out to cop a feel of his favourite singer’s ass.

Needless to say, Arthur did get himself a groupie. Involuntarily. And now every day became a series of “I almost outed myself to my millions of crazy fans.” It could be worse. At least he sleeps with a cute and annoying twink every night.