#but somehow drawing this actually helped? i think?? instead of prompting more questions i guess?

[sketchydesign78]

Could you draw Ellie?

I could! I also felt like adding a little bit of a story to the doodle, if that's alright ^^

[arc-archernar]

Theory about the MILGRAM prison

(working on this when I'm supposed to be studying for my psychology exam lol)

(i count this as studying for my a-levels, sue me)

Trigger Warning: WWII Germany mention, war crimes mention

One of the questions I keep coming back to is why the prison and the project is called Milgram. The experiment that Stanley Milgram was famous for, his obedience experiment, had more to do with the study of the banality of evil (that was partly his motivation to perform the experiment in the first place) and human obedience for an authority figure than criminal behaviour. What he studied was the willingness of people to obey instructions, even when doing inhumane acts such as administering increasingly lethal shocks to someone who failed a question in a word quiz. This was actually in attempt to investigate whether N@zi Germans in concentration camps/prisons/whatever and such were pure evil or just following orders because they're 'more obedient than other races of people'. He and his colleagues wanted to explain the inhumane acts done during the holocaust, basically, inspired by the criminal trial of Adolf Eichmann (i think thats the name?) about 3 months before the experiment was conducted. Of course, with a bias for Americans.

He and his colleagues predicted that less than 3% of participants would actually administer up to 450 volts to the learner (who was a confederate, i.e. fake. the initial information that participants received was that they were there to help with a psychology experiment on memory:

they would then stage a chance drawing of who would be the 'teacher' (the participant) and the 'learner' (the confederate). the participant was always the teacher. they were then separated so the participant can hear the learner, but can't see them. they were given instructions to administer shocks to the learner if they got the wrong answer, which was made to be frequent-ish. it starts of at 15, then 30, then alll the way up to 450 volts. The shocks were fake, but it would sound like, to the participant, that the learner in the other room was actually experiencing electrical shocks. Re-creation of the study later on used a standardised recording of the learner responding to the fake shocks, then silence, as if to indicate that the learner has passed out.)

Actual results? Every single participant in the baseline procedure administered up to 300 volts. 65% of participants continued up to 450 volts.

The results may be affected by the scientist in the room, which, when faced with apprehension or unwillingness by the participant to continue, will say the following things:

Theoretically, participants should feel free to stop and withdraw from the experiment at any time. Reality? the prompts above literally pressured into continuing to increase the voltage, regardless of if they said they wanted to withdraw. Imagine:

"I- I don't feel comfortable doing this. This is wrong." "Please continue." "But- this is wrong! He's hurt, will he be okay?" "The experiment requires that you continue."

(disclaimer: dialogue is fake, i made it up from watching documentaries and recordings(?) of future attempts to reconduct the study. (i.e. based on what the teacher made me watch in class lol))

And so on and so forth. A lot of participants' attempts to withdraw were met with a sound 'no'. I'd say that going through the experiment itself is traumatic all by itself.

So what does this mean for the Milgram Project?

Honestly, I can only guess that, in a way, it shows how willing most of us are to go along with this extremely inhumane premise. Imagine that the prisoners are real people - well this kind of experiment would get absolutely blasted by any ethics board, and the prisoners would be subject to the Japanese criminal justice system and all that. But imagine somehow passed ethics boards and such. And, instead of the judge being internet people who can discuss and judge freely, it is people who are physically there to be the judge, jury and executioner. The information and experience will be repeated for every participant, every fan of the project. The chances of those of us who will call this kind of prison out drastically decreases, for various reasons. Some of Milgram's participants said that their willingness to go along with the study was because they thought the whole thing was 'play-acting'.

And this scenario is exactly what Es is subjected to. They only know to follow the rules of Milgram, because like the participants in Milgram's obedience study, they can't withdraw. They can't get out. They can only complete the objective they were given, because that's the only way this experiment would end. Jackalope is the scientist in the room in this analogy: they keep Es obedient, keep Es from questioning.

And, like the 'learner' in the original experiment, the prisoners are there to distract us and Es from the true aim of the experiment: to what end will we be jackalope's little obedient doll?

then again, I can be completely wrong. I got distracted from studying. (this counts as studying right????)

[chitsuu]

OC Kiss Week 2024: Dare

Doing this little challenge this week, with my FFXIV character and his husband (@kitshunette's son)!

Also, I'm not much of a writer, but I decided to write a little something for each drawing, little windows in their story (which is also why I'm using the @ockissweek prompt list but not in order)

That one was supposed to be posted on Valentine's day but it was!! so difficult to write!!!! So anyway, here it is now

Where is he?

Jisul’s eyes anxiously scanned the battlefield around him. The battle lasted for what seemed forever, but eventually came to a close. Not that it was quieter now than during the actual fighting. The dragons had made a lot of damages, and flames rose to the sky, ash mingling with the falling snow. People were calling out for healers left and right, and some, just like him, were calling for specific people - family, friends… Loved ones.

All in all, it was a mess of different sounds and noises, and the Au Ra was having trouble processing all the information his horns picked up. The fact that he was feeling even more distressed by the second did not help.

One thing was for sure: he could not find Eli. They had been separated during the battle, and Jisul had felt the healing magic he received take on a different color, which could only mean that Eli had been too far to reach him with his own magic.

Blinking, Jisul tried to take a deep breath, fighting against another kind of monster in his chest. His anxiety was starting to be uncontrollable. He had sworn to himself he would protect the Elezen, and instead he could not even see him now.

The noise was definitely becoming too much. Somewhere in the distance, he saw a Miqo’te tending to a Lalafell, both looking quite exhausted, but, fortunately, not in a bad shape. When they saw him in return, as if they could read his mind before he could even get the question out, they both shook their head. Eli’s big sister, the Lalafellin woman, opened her mouth while gesturing in another direction. Jisul guessed she might have said something, but was unable to hear anything. More exactly, all sounds had fused into one big white noise, and he could not make any sense of what he was hearing anymore. He bowed his head in a silent thanks, and started heading where she had pointed to. The white noise was fuzzing in his head, along with his distress in his chest.

This is not helping.

Pressing back tears that were uncomfortable starting to well in his eyes, he tried once more to scan over his surroundings. It was starting to look a lot like another scene in his mind, a scene from his memories, yet not his memories. He had not thought about the vision he had when he first met Eli in months, however it was resurfacing. The past grief and loss started to creep on him, and Jisul pushed it down fiercely. Eli was not lost. He just had to find him.

“ul”

Admist the white noise, his horns picked up a sound.

“-sul!”

It was getting clearer by the second, as carried by a fast wind.

“JISUL!”

Jisul turned back, only to catch in his arms the tall Elezen that was barreling to him. His eyes widened a little, and the tears escaped, full on display as they traced a path on his cheeks. Eli was in his arms, looking him over worriedly with glassy eyes.

Oh.

He’s crying.

He’s crying for me.

It was a wondrous feeling, somehow. His anxiety was washed over by a tsunami of love for the one in his arms, and then there was no time to think.

They were kissing. The kiss tasted of snow and salt.

It was bold, daring even, but Jisul decided he did not care. He would think about his actions later. He thought he heard the hearty laugh of a Roegadyn, and Stephanivien saying he needed to find his fireworks. But he did not care, because right this instant, what mattered was embracing him, and he could not waste more time trying to downplay his own feelings.

Jisul loved Eli, plain and simple.

And if anything, the way the the Elezen smiled at him after their kiss, Eli loved Jisul, plain and simple.

[megumitski]

hello these are the bnha fics i’ve read so far and i just made this to track them for myself. favorites are marked with a 💥! more bakudeku plus tododeku and other ships under the cut.

bakudeku

💥 Bluebird - EtherealBeing (53k)

Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact.

However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

Let’s Be Alone Together - lalazee (3k)

Prompt: Deku being aggressively forward in his pursuit of Bakugou, and how that big oaf would react to someone else actually making the first move.

“Are you going to spend your entire life wishing you’d kissed me or are you gonna grow some balls and fucking do it?”

Bell Pepper - ticklishivories (7k)

Midoriya knew they wouldn’t talk about it. He was right. But he never thought it’d happen again.

spilling over every side - failbender (6k)

No good deed goes unpunished, not when there's a crazy lady with a complex and Lust Quirk parading around the city. By now, Katsuki should probably be used to things blowing up in his face.

be loved - bonnia (5k)

They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.

“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”

(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)

Leftovers - brichibi (6k)

“Did you two make up?”

That. That’s why that fight felt like it was worth it, even if, technically, Izuku can’t answer her. Have they made up? Is this making up?

He actually doesn’t know.

[Or: the house arrest fic where it is, somehow, more awkward to talk through feelings than it is to fight]

lust-drunk - theboykingofhell (8k)

The one where Bakugou tries not to lose his mind to lust, and Midoriya is the useless gay who does nothing to help that matter at all.

💥 Quiet Rapture - lalazee (261k) - inc.

That A/B/O fic where cocky Alpha Bakugou falls in mate-love at first scent, while Midoriya is just a poor bookstore-owning Omega who got his nose punched in is a kid and can't smell a damn thing. Also known as: That time an Alpha had to use his actual personality to woo his mate instead of relying on his scent.

💥 A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8k)

Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? - reading_raindrop (8k)

“A-ah B-Bakugou! You dropped some pencils!”

Katsuki stiffened. Kirishima and Kaminari froze. Basically, everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing to look at Izuku like he sprouted a second head. What did he just call him? “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Katsuki whipped his head towards Izuku with his signature death glare as he stood up from where he picked up the fallen supplies.

“U-um I said you dropped some pencils! I think this eraser might be yours to-”

“No. What the fuck did you just call me?”

Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would

💥 take care - Chrome (2k)

There are words to say stay safe, I’ll miss you, I love you, but Kacchan has always preferred to leave things unspoken. Izuku isn’t much with languages, but he thinks he’s figured out this one.

---

“Emotional constipation manifested as over-the-top housewifery?” Mina asks. Before Izuku can say that is not what he meant at all, she nods. “Yeah, I can see it.”

Just Look At Me - Colourcubify (52k) - dnf

Midoriya is completely happy with his life. Nope, not one single regret in his twenty-seven years. He especially doesn't regret running into his old childhood friend/bully after almost ten years, nor does he regret spilling coffee all over his very expensive looking suit. How nice it will be to die with no regrets. ~~~~ AKA the sugar daddy AU I meant to be a one shot, that turned into a full fledged story.

A Nest for the Best - Camellia_Sinensis (1k)

Deku’s been nesting and asking everyone in 1-A for pieces of clothing for his horde. Everyone, that is, except Katsuki. Cue the jealousy.

unforgiving - i_write_emotion (19k)

Deku is hit with a quirk that takes away his ability to forgive, and Bakugou’s world comes crashing down. Quirkless!Deku. Pro-hero!Bakugou.

@ Deku WRONG CHAT - katyastark (16k) - inc.

Deku: THE LENGTHS I WOULD GO TO JUST LICK THE SWEAT OFF HIS ABS hnnnnnghhh

Deku: or! like! It doesn’t even have to be his abs! It could be anywhere else! I’m not picky!

Pinky: excuse me what

ChargeDolt: OMG

Uravity: @Deku WRONG CHAT

I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married. - InkspillsNotebook (6k)

Ta-Da!!!! I hope you all enjoy the finished product!!! I'm sorry (not sorry) I broke a lot of you when I first posted this to tumblr!!

Procrastination - capncapk (5k)

But it is still surprising to see his more-than-friend-but-also-lover-he-guesses in his office seeking attention though Izuku already turned him down.

Usually he'll get a text of 'wyd?' followed by a time and place if Izuku responds with a confirmation, and silence if he's busy.

Or slammed into the wall in the agency's shower for a quickie if no one was around, which despite his anxiety, he often acquiesces to.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71k)

The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) - vannral (16k)

In complete honesty, no one who knows the Class 3-A should be surprised anymore. Izuku is asleep.

In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

Yes, They’re All Safe - teaandtumblr (5k)

Villains have entered UA grounds and are disposed of just as quickly, but that doesn't mean a headcount of the students doesn't need to be done. Toshinori would admit, he wasn't quite prepared for what he found in Bakugou Katsuki's room.

💥 all choked up - spicyrabbit (5k)

Bakugou Katsuki had a habit of turning away from the heard. At 16, he does this by coming to terms with wanting, desperately, to see his childhood friend cry.

💥 May I take your order, dipshit? - supercrunch (6k)

So, like, maybe Bakugou wasn’t really the best choice for this whole pizza delivery shindig.

(Midoriya in love, Bakugou in denial, and way, way too much cheese.

A BakuDeku romance in thirty minutes or less. )

blooms every hour - dynamighttiddy (7k)

“It’s you, okay?!” Deku screams. “It’s you. And I know you’ll never love me back, so -” Deku wipes his eyes and straightens. “So just leave it.”

-----

Deku has hanahaki, and Katsuki doesn't know how to save him.

all choked up - dynamighttiddy (7k)

“Deku, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Izuku asks Kacchan to help him train blackwhip. Things don't exactly go according to plan.

A Fight To The Death - iknewaman (10k)

Izuku isn’t competitive by nature, but when the blond, cocky asshole from the other table’s team gets involved he suddenly becomes hellbent on winning.

Rival Pub Quiz AU

💥 Like the Moon - osakakitty (15k)

Katsuki Bakugo is having constant, erotic dreams about Izuku Midoriya. He isn’t sure why, but they won’t go away. In order to make them stop, he needs to figure out what Izuku Midoriya means to him.

Canon-verse story in which Bakugo is confused about his feelings for Midoriya, and doesn’t know what he wants. Besides a good night’s sleep.

💥 We Wear Chains on the Weekend - surveycorpsjean (35k)

Well, in a day of revelations, it turns out that Izuku isn't as vanilla as Katsuki previously thought. Unfortunately, that fascinating discovery is overshadowed by Izuku's dumbassery, because he has zero concept of aftercare.

"Don't go to anyone else," Katsuki says, because screw it. He can do a better job anyways.

Or; Katsuki finds Izuku on a bad drop.

take me out to dinner first - dynamighttiddy (3k)

“Kacchan,” Deku chides. “What’s going on?”

Katsuki takes a deep breath.

He trusts Deku with his life. He can trust him with this, too.

“Have sex with me.”

-----

Katsuki Bakugou is one of the only virgins left in class 3-A - and with graduation just around the corner, he's desperate to change that.

💥 that ultra kind of love - dynamighttiddy (11k)

“So, uh,” Kirishima starts. “Was that your first kiss?” he whispers, almost sheepish. Katsuki’s stomach drops, and he freezes. Memories of green eyes and freckles and soft lips flash behind his eyelids. “Yeah,” he lies easily. “That was my first kiss.”

-----

In which Bakugou pretends Kirishima is his first kiss, amongst other things.

to the moon and back - kewltie (1k)

"He gets stupid when he's drunk," Katsuki seethes in his seat as he watches Izuku croon love notes into Uraraka's throat. He’d never met a worst lightweight then Deku, who become some kind of demented affectionate monster.

💥 Bridges - supercrunch (18k)

Yaomomo sighs. “We’ve got a little bit of a situation, Bakugou. Ashi—uhm, somebody might have accidentally signed you up for that modelling gig.”

Katsuki holds up a hand. "So what you’re telling me here," he says, "is that you told Calvin Klein I would model for them. In my underwear.”

Ashido sinks behind a desk to hide. “Yes.”

(The thing is, they really do need the money. And Katsuki's technically the leader of this bunch of morons, so he finds himself taking the job even though his pride will never recover. And even though nobody thought to tell him that he'd be working with his ex-boyfriend. You know, the cute freckled guy from high school who went and broke his heart.

So, yeah. This whole situation kind of sucks.)

Crescendo - supercrunch - inc. (4k)

(Izuku's band is on their way to the top of the charts. But the real star, he thinks, is the drummer.)

Guilty Kiss - osakakitty (1k)

He could feel Midoriya's eyes on him. Even though he knew it was wrong, Bakugo still wet his lips in anticipation.

(Canon-verse) A short story about making out in a closet. It's messy, but so is their relationship.

💥 Surfaces - surveycorpsjean (25k)

Katsuki has a new girlfriend, but something isn't right.

As impossible as it is, Izuku can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be called Katsuki's girl.

Classical conditioning - supercrunch (8k)

(or: how to trick a boy into going out with you.)

Alright. Maybe his idiot friends had a point, Katsuki thinks as he shoulders open the front door. His mother’s in the living room drinking coffee. Katsuki kicks off his shoes and stomps over. “Am I charming?” he demands, blocking the TV.

Mitsuki pats his cheek. “Oh, hon. Not at all.”

💥 Dance Bunny - EllaBesmirched (17k)

Katsuki Bakugou spends most week nights by himself, sitting in a corner at his local strip club and passing time until he feels tired enough to sleep. Work leaves him stressed and the new city he moved to a year ago is just different enough that he can't sleep at night and can't seem to get comfortable no matter where he is.

When he finally changes up his schedule and decides to head to the club on a Saturday night, he is instantly infatuated with a part-time dancer who can do things with his body that Katsuki didn't even know were possible. The dancer calls himself Bunny. By the second lap dance, Katsuki realizes he is in trouble.

but the entrails are the best part! - supercrunch (15k)

The boy straightens up. He’s about half a head shorter than Katsuki, face soft and youthful and sweet. He turns to look at him properly. His dark hair shines in the dying light, basket of blooms looped over one arm and mouth quirked into a tiny half-smile. The sun hits his face and makes his eyes a bright greeny-gold, just like emeralds.

Katsuki likes emeralds.

“Pretty,” he says, reaching out and picking the stranger up around the middle. He’s surprisingly heavy, although Katsuki doesn’t mind. “I like you. Come see my nest.”

The boy hits him.

He’s stronger than he looks, turns out. Katsuki drops him and falls onto his back, pain blooming across his face. Birds sing. The sky’s a lovely shade of orange, clouds floating lazily by. The boy scarpers. He leaves his basket of flowers behind, footsteps thumping on the ground and fading away as he escapes.

The sun sets. Katsuki, lying flat on his back with a bloody nose, decides he’s just fallen in love.

tododeku

(You Know You’re Really) Cute - ladyhoneydarlinglove (2k)

Kirishima poses the question, who’s the cutest boy in Class 1-A? The answers kind of surprise everyone, especially Midoriya.

Everything Except - Pouler (28k)

"In retrospect, Midoriya probably should’ve realized the moment they were enveloped in a glittering pink cloud that something was about to go Very Wrong."

After an encounter with a unique villain threatens to change the nature of their partnership, Midoriya must find a way to get things back to normal between him and Todoroki. That is, if he's certain that getting 'back to normal' is what he really wants...

count your blessings, not your flaws - PitViperOfDoom (7k)

Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

Riddles in the Heart - PitViperOfDoom (19k)

The law is clear: whoever correctly answers three riddles will marry the prince, while all who fail are to be executed. The people live in fear as more challengers try and fail, and the throne grows bloodier with every passing year. But a young prince, nameless and in exile from his home, believes there may be more to this brutal challenge than meets the eye.

Of course, there's only one way to find out: ring the gong, and take the trial.

Late bloomer - Nohaljiachi (10k)

That’s why when they’ve found themselves face to face on the ring of the sport festival once more, for the third time ever since they’ve met each other, and Izuku smiled at him, eager and challenging, self-confident but never full of himself, Shouto blinked, dazed and shocked, in realizing just how blindingly beautiful his best friend was. The way Izuku’s white shirt clung on his muscles, the little peek of his collar bone and the hard lines of his pecs visible under it, the way his thighs curved and filled the school gym uniform.

‘Oh, fuck—‘ Shouto thought, his head spinning, feeling like he just got run over by a freight train. ‘Shit. He’s- hot?’

Burn and Breathe - PitViperOfDoom (11k)

Soulmates are connected through pain, and some bonds have more to share than others. Todoroki Shouto wishes he could reject his soulmate. Midoriya wants nothing more than to protect his own.

one string, fit for a bow - furihatachlookie (5k)

There was no magical moment that played a part in Midoriya's realization that he liked Todoroki. The thin red string that greeted him every time he looked down at his hand was an obvious factor, yes, but it wasn't love at first sight either.

It sorta just... happened over time.

fire and feelings - kagshina (8k)

“Uh…” he starts, eyes widening. “Your finger’s on fire.”

Todoroki’s face scrunches together, confused, and then he looks down, noticing the flame. Midoriya watches as shock flashes across Todoroki’s face, and then horror, and then finally settles on embarrassment as he puts out the flame.

“Shit,” Todoroki mumbles, and Midoriya’s lip curves upward.

bakutododeku 

💥 Fire in the Mountains - EllaBesmirched (168k)

“I’ll do it.”

Enji froze, fingers curling into a fist at his side, and didn’t turn around.

Shouto froze too, feeling his own eyes widen in shock at the words that had come out of his mouth, at the fact that he had actually stood up, followed his father out of the room, and dashed after him all just to say… he’d do it? He would do it? Him. Shouto Todoroki. He would--

Enji finally turned around and fixed Shouto with an expression so scathing, Shouto had to fight to keep his chin raised. “You’ll marry the Barbarian King.”

Shouto blinked. “Yes.”

The Ballad of Love and Hate - EllaBesmirched (6k)

After eight painfully long years, Katsuki finally has Izuku back. He's determined to keep him this time, and to do that, he knows there are some things he has to say.

(mis)matched - ethydium (12k)

Midoriya doesn't hate the idea of finding one's soulmate, even though he had long since given up on finding his own. And then Bakugou and Todoroki match, and while he's happy for them, his heart breaks from all the unsaid things he feels for them.

Or:

Midoriya pines and suffers his way to his own happy ending.

pillowed by love - ethydium (21k)

As a prank, Uraraka gets Midoriya a body pillow (dakimakura) with the image of Bakugou printed on it. Then another one with Todoroki's picture. Chaos ensues.

other

For who could learn to love a beast? - supercrunch (4k) - bakutodo

Bakugou takes a deep breath and steps out into the living room, eyes automatically adjusting to the change in light. There’s a boy hanging up his coat in the hall. He’s handsome, albeit in an annoying way, hair dyed two colours to match his heterochromia and skin pale and perfect and smooth. He looks expensive. “Bakugou.”

“That’s me,” Bakugou says. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m older than I look.”

(Deku was right, damn him. Pretty boys are Bakugou's type.)

Want it All - surveycorpsjean (29k) - kiribakutododeku

“Hey, so..." Eijirou grins. "Can we ask you guys a question?"

Frankendick and the Great Acid Fiasco - EllaBesmirched (11k) - shiggyxdabi

Dabi had been intending to spend a very nice Saturday getting stoned and plotting murder, thank you very much, but when a trio of UA brats on enough L to kill a Beatle accidentally dose him and two other unsuspecting homicidal maniacs, Dabi has to change his plans a bit. Apparently no else around here knows how to trip balls and fucking enjoy it.

The Twitter - EllaBesmirched (8k) - tododenki

Shouto never really intended for anyone to find his secret Twitter account. He certainly didn't intend for Kaminari to see Shouto's thirst tweets about him. Luckily, Kaminari doesn't seem to mind.

pray you catch me - supercrunch (4k)

Katsuki pushes her shirt up to kiss her stomach. It’s silly, how it makes her heart flutter, how Izuku’s whispered I love you threatens to make her cry all over again. They’re unwrapping her from her clothes. They won’t let her hide, she thinks numbly. Won’t let her curl in on herself like she’s something dirty, Katsuki’s hands tugging off her underwear so she’s naked and exposed between them. “I,” she says breathlessly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying. I’m just being dumb.”

Izuku shushes her. Another tear trickles down her cheek and into her ear. He kisses it away, humming, brushing her bangs off her forehead so he can press his mouth between her brows. “You have every right to be upset. We’ll deal with him later. For now just let us take care of you.”

“She’ll get the message once you stop talking and fuck her,” Katsuki says, slipping his fingers into her. She clenches around him and shudders. “Gonna eat you out ‘til you forget how to move. Now put that fucking motor mouth to good use, Deku.”

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#5: The One With Astruc's Self-Insert

In my introductory post, I said the main inspiration for this blog was @hypocrisyofandrewdobson​. For those who don't know, Andrew Dobson is an infamous webcomic artist known for drawing webcomics that tend to demonize people he's come across in public or people who disagree with him online (either critical of his art or his political views), while portraying himself as the victim or wise man calling them out on their differing beliefs.

If you want to learn more about this guy who I consider to be far worse than Astruc, check out the blog in question. And no, I don't know why he draws himself as a blue bear.

Why am I talking about this? It's one thing for some schmuck on the internet to use his work to respond to criticism, but the creator of a popular animated series dedicating an entire episode to attacking his critics and trying to get others to feel bad for him is another story.

The second episode of Miraculous Ladybug's third season, “Animaestro” served as a wake-up call for fans (myself included) to make them realize how immature Astruc could be. The plot centers around the premiere of a movie about Ladybug and Cat Noir directed by Thomas Astruc, who voices himself in the original French dub.

And this isn't just a brief cameo like what Stan Lee did in the MCU. Astruc is the Akumatized person this episode, so there's naturally a lot of focus on him. Throughout the first half of the episode, Astruc portrays himself as this timid man who nobody recognizes or respects, like this idiot who doesn't know what animation is.

Doorman: This is a private event, sir.

Astruc: Huh? Excuse me? I'm Thomas Astruc, the movie director.

Doorman: You filmed Cat Noir and Ladybug? What are they like in real life?

Astruc: Er, it's an animated movie. It's all cartoon characters. We don't actually film anyone. See, there's this whole team that draw the chara—

Doorman: Whatever. Who would want to see Ladybug and Cat Noir as cartoon characters?

Get it? Wasn't that meta joke hilarious? This is how much I was laughing:

And Astruc continues to get about as much respect as Rodney Dangerfield when he interacts with other characters like Jagged Stone and Chloe.

Jagged Stone: Ladybug is one of my best buds! I can't wait to see her movie!

Astruc: Well I—I'm the director, so actually it's more my movie, so to speak.

Jagged Stone: Oh, so you're the one who created the story?

Astruc: Well, technically the screen writers wrote the story, inspired by Ladybug's exploits.

Jagged Stone: Oh, okay. So you did all the drawings?

Thomas: No, no. The animators do all the drawings.  

Jagged Stone: So what do you do then?

(Later on...)

Chloe: So you're the one responsible for this movie?

Astruc: Yes, yes! Exactly! That's me!

Chloe: Then you were the one who left Queen Bee out of the trailer. You're lame, utterly lame.

I can't believe Astruc had a scene where he interacted with Chloe and didn't insult her at all.

The episode is determined to make the audience feel bad for Astruc. Nobody respects him and what he does. Isn't that saaaaaad? Nobody cares about animated film directors like Walt Disney or Tex Avery anyway. Not even these stupid children understand how hard Astruc works.

Several Children: Ladybug! Where's Ladybug?

Astruc: Hey there, kids!

Teacher: Ladybug isn't here children. We came here to meet the director of the movie. Children: (frowning in disappointment) Aww.

(Astruc looks visibly disappointed.)

Way to insult your primary demographic, Astruc. I thought you said kids have a better understanding of these stories when people criticized the writing of a certain episode (It's that scene in “Puppeteer 2” if you're curious/don't value your sanity).

It's almost like you're using that as an excuse to half-ass your work while still getting to claim this show is so groundbreaking.

In case you can't tell, “Animaestro” is one of those episodes. The ones where the showrunners decide to dedicate an entire episode to attacking critics of the show in a blunt fashion. Whenever a show addresses criticism, they either create an obvious strawman character to parrot the opinions of fans who don't like their work, or have someone defend the show and insult the critics directly.

The problem isn't that they're ignoring criticism. It's their show, and they aren't obligated to listen to critics or fans who don't like the direction the show is taking. On the other hand, they aren't obligated to fight back like this and treat their audience like crap. Any show that does something like the three clips I showed you usually comes off as petty and immature because they dedicate so much time to insulting the critics. 

Even during the Akuma fight, Astruc has to call out Ladybug for having problems with his movie in-universe, obviously representing critics of the show Astruc claims have no right to criticize the show while it's still airing.

Ladybug: What's with that trailer too? I am not scared of cats, at all.

Astruc/Animaestro: You haven't even seen the movie and you're already slamming it?

Cat Noir: He does have a point, you know.

Ladybug: I wasn't slamming it. It's called constructive criticism!

Yeah, how dare Ladybug be angry that this movie is portraying her as a powerless coward dependent on Cat Noir as opposed to a confident and brave superhero. She just doesn't understand the genius of Thomas Astruc!

And of course the character Astruc claims is “perfect” is the one to take his side.

And that's another problem with this episode, the metatextual references. Before he gets akumatized, Astuc says he spent three years of his life working on his movie. I get that time in this show is weird (we somehow had episodes taking place on the first day of school, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and the first day of Summer), but how did Astruc's self-insert work on a movie based on a superhero who has only been active for a year? Meta-wise, it's an obvious reference to the scorn Astruc has gotten from fans after working so hard on his show, but the only people who would get that reference are the ones who are aware of Astruc's reputation online.

Self-Insert aside, I actually think the titular Animaestro is one of the more visually impressive Akumas featured on the show. Animaestro takes on several forms based off several different forms and eras of animation, like flash, anime, rubber hose, and they all stand out. Granted, some of them are obvious parodies of other characters like Goku or Sailor Moon, but the actual Akuma fight is fun to watch. According to the Mexican Miraculous Ladybug Twitter account, this episode took two and a half years to create, and it shows. It's too bad the story behind it is completely insufferable, almost like the cartoon equidistant to Pixels.

But then comes the part that honestly makes the episode worth it, mainly for how unintentionally hilarious it is. Do you want to know what Animaestro's weakness is? Do you really want to know?

Animaestro is physically incapable of moving unless someone is watching him. I am not making this up.

Ladybug and Cat Noir literally defeat Animaestro by getting everyone to stop paying attention to him.

I could make so many jokes with this, but I can guarantee you're already thinking of something just as good, if not better, than whatever I write.

And there's the end where Astruc gives Marinette his ticket to the movie, which prompts Marinette to kiss up to him for no real reason.

Astruc: Sorry, I guess you don't know who I am either.

Marinette: Of course do. You're Thomas Astruc, the movie director!

Astruc: She recognized me. Somebody actually recognized me!

Nothing happened to make her change her opinion on the Ladybug movie, she didn't really say anything to him earlier in the episode that connects to this exchange, and outside of a few lines Animaestro said, she doesn't even know why he got akumatized (even though ironically she and Chloe accidentally contributed to it because of the awful subplot involving Kagami I talked about last time). If anything, it comes off less like she actually appreciates Astruc's work, and more like she's stroking his ego just to keep him from getting akumatized again.

So yeah, this episode is awful, and the fact that it came out right after the controversial “Chameleon” only proved to show what kind of direction the show was taking this season.

But honestly, even if Astruc still wanted to make about how he doesn't get enough respect the episode could have potentially. All he had to do was make a simple change: Instead of making it about validation for Astruc as a creator, make it about validation for animation in general.

It's a common misconception that animation is only used for shows and movies aimed at children, so the episode could reflect it. Instead of the huge turnout where several celebrities appear at the premiere, instead, the turnout could be a lot smaller, with the media dismissing it as some stupid kiddie flick. Instead of getting akumatized because he gets humiliated in public/getting no respect from anyone else, Astruc gets akumatized because he sees the audience didn't go wild for the movie after the premiere. All he can hear them say is that it's just “kids stuff”.

So when Astruc is Animaestro, he goes on about how important animation is. How it's helped produce propaganda since World War II. How it helped improve special effects in big blockbusters. How the medium is used to create movies that simply can't be filmed on a physical set.

After defeating Animaestro, Ladybug shows up to talk to him. She had seen the movie earlier, and actually enjoyed it. She had a few problems with the story, but they were just minor nitpicks and inaccuracies Astruc wouldn't know about, and she was blown away by the animation. She tells Astruc not to be deterred by his critics, and continue to do what he does. As a designer in her civilian life, Ladybug knows the joy creating brings her, and both she and Astruc want to spread that joy through their work.

Back at the premiere, Astruc thinks about what Ladybug said to him when he sees some kids reenacting a scene from the movie. Astruc walks over to them and asks what they thought of the movie. They said they loved it and how energetic it was. When he tells them he is the director, the kids' faces light up and they say they want to do what he does when they grow up, bringing a smile to Astruc's face.

Isn't that a much more humble approach instead of what we got? It would have helped Astruc come across as more sympathetic, especially with animation fans. But instead, we got an entire episode of Astruc whining about how misunderstood he is.

And you know the footage used for the movie at the beginning? Remember that, because I have a huge rant about it saved for a later post.

For now, here’s an example of a creator appearing in his work done right.

[starrypawz]

[ INSIST ]  for the shorter muse to guide the taller one to sit so they don’t have to keep looking up. For nemo and Gerry?

Tol and Smol Prompts AO3

“I’m-” Gerry goes to protest but cuts himself off when he hears Nemo sigh, “It’s not that bad,” He offers up

“Just let me look?” Nemo sighs again, “Please?”

“You don’t-” Gerry sighs and then winces and he looks down and finds Nemo looking up at him and then Nemo pushes him.

Or more gives a light shove that can be taken as a suggestion of a push and Gerry goes along with it until he feels the back of his legs hit a short wall enclosing a pub carpark and he sits. (Thankfully it’s early enough in the evening and middle of the week so there’s few prying, drunken eyes in the encroaching twilight) 

As he sits he feels whatever reserves of adrenaline that he’s been running on fade off and actually things ache a lot more than he thought and his shoulders sag as actually he is kind of tired now you mention it. 

Nemo’s touch is gentle, their fingertips are colder than they should be but Gerry finds that he doesn’t really mind (Is that weird?). Nemo’s touch is barely there as they gingerly turn his head and Gerry follows without question. 

Gerry swallows as Nemo’s thumb just brushes under his bottom lip and gently manipulates his labret. “It’s… fine,” Nemo swallows, “Your piercing is fine, might want to clean it when you get home,”

Gerry nods, Nemo’s ghost of a touch shifts upwards and he winces. 

“Sorry,” Nemo mumbles as they draw their touch away for a moment.

“It’s fine,” Gerry reassures and Nemo continues to check. 

“It… looks worse than it is actually,” Nemo gently pulls on delicate skin and Gerry feels the slight sting on over sensitive flesh, “Lips always bleed a lot,”

Gerry mumbles something in agreement that Nemo assumes is meant to be taken as a ‘I know’ 

“No stitches?” 

“I think so,” 

“Good,” Gerry sighs and then snorts, “I think I’ve started running out of excuses for when I end up in A and E,” 

Nemo’s eyes widen in concern and Gerry shrugs he would throw a disarming smile into the mix but that would hurt, “That’s only happened a few times, honest,” 

Nemo catches their lip but seems to accept his claims, silence between them that somehow isn’t as awkward as it could be as Nemo gives a few last checks. Long enough that Gerry’s thoughts start to wander. 

He’s been touched before.

He’s been touched like this before. But also he hasn’t.

He’s had the hands of a good samaritan touch him with panicked gentle concern, the hands of a nurse touch him with clinical, detached gentleness. And those have been enough to seemingly make his chest ache as some needy part of him will take whatever it can take that can pass as affection. 

This however, is as if that needy part of him has just been presented with a feast and is gorging itself silly. The brush of Nemo’s fingertips could feed him for a week but still leave him starving. 

But it’s not just the touch is it?

It’s not about how gentle Nemo’s hands were, is it? The others were gentle too. Handled him with care to help heal his hurt both duty bound for various reasons. Nemo also seemingly just as duty bound. 

He’s…

Before he can contemplate further he hears Nemo clear their throat and it snaps him back to reality, back to the dull ache of his split lip and the texture of brick under his palm and the way something in him protests the fact Nemo’s hands are no longer on him. 

“Yeah you’re fine, just clean it up when you get a chance,” Gerry nods. 

“So…” 

“So?” 

“I… kind of want chips?”

Gerry snorts, “Chips?” “Yeah,” Nemo snorts, “I’m hungry, guess running for your life works up an appetite?”

“Yeah, it kinda does,” Gerry chuckles and debates adding a ‘you’ll get used to it’ but realises… actually so instead

“Chips?” 

“Chips,”

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day two of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt is Rib Cage.

warnings for mentions of disordered eating.

It’s been a problem since he was young. Momma’s little projection of insecurity and status.

Steve doesn’t eat. Not when he can help it. And he’s good at hiding it too.

He wears concealer to cover the bags under his eyes. He goes and gets highlights in his hair to hide how dull and greasy it is. He brushes his teeth at least six times a day to hide the damage from the purging. And he buys his pants a size too big to pretend he’s not getting thinner.

But as good as he is at pretending, Billy’s even better at reading people.

Since November and getting put in his place by his step sister, Billy’s been an observer. The role of instigator went to Tommy while Billy sits atop his throne and just, takes it in. A dynamic not so different to what Steve once had with Tommy.

But it means he notices everything that goes down in his kingdom, and especially everything concerning Steve Harrington.

Steve doesn’t even notice at first that Billy has noticed him, not from the little remarks and the stares that last a little too long. It’s obvious, but he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t see what it is that draws his attention to him.

Not until Billy steps down from his royal court to confront him in the locker rooms.

Steve’s been avoiding the showers after practice for a long time. It’s bad enough being surrounded by that many other boys, all more fit than him in one way or another, but as if that isn’t enough, he has to show himself too. The second he takes his shirt off, everyone’ll know what he’s up to.

He’s proud of his body. He’s proud of having earned his beauty. But he’s humiliated by the questions. Be it the faux concern or the mockery he’s more than used to, he just wants nothing to do with it.

So he lingers, on the court talking to coach, pretending to be searching for something in his bag. Anything to keep him from having to face the nagging.

But Billy notices, because of course he does. And he sits on the bench between the lockers all smug like. Waiting for Steve to run out of excuses so he can corner him.

It works, after Steve digs through his locker for some imaginary object for the dozenth time, he sighs and turns to Billy, “You gonna keep starin’ at me, Hargrove? What’re you even still doing here?”

“Coach asked me to stay’n lock up. What’s your problem, man?” Billy hums casually, like he doesn’t even care how much he’s bothering Steve. It’s something he’s probably used to by now anyways.

If only he knew what that indifferent assailed routine did to Steve. He buries that for now though, to argue, “You seem to be the one with a problem.”

Billy snarks right back, “Ain’t wrong about that. But I was watchin’ you at practice. What’s wrong with your ribs?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re crossin’ your arms over your chest. You’re breathin’ all shallow like. You won’t even take your shirt off and get in the damn shower. Someone kick your ass Harrington?”

“No, no. That’s.. not it.”

“Uh-huh. Say the word n’I’ll put a stop to it. S’it Hagan? I told him to get off your case, man” Billy tries to convince him into admitting something, not knowing exactly what it is, but Steve shuts him down again, trying not to think too much about the concern in the other boys tone and expression.

“Seriously, dude. It’s just.. it’s me.”

“Right. ‘Cause you knocked your own self around like that. Lemme see it, Harrington.” Billy motions vaguely to Steve’s ribs, where the imaginary injury is, making his chest seize, flinching back from the touch that doesn’t land.

“No. No fucking way.”

“C’mere.” Before Steve can tell him no again, Billy steps forward and touches his ribs. His face looks sort of defeated when he doesn’t make Steve flinch or wince, clearly wrong, as Steve already knew, about the presence of a bruise.

His fingers gently linger though, tracing over each bone as they protrude through pale skin. It sends a shiver through Steve’s spine, and a spike of anger into his heart. Before Billy even opens his mouth, he knows he’s seen through him.

Knows Billy noticed that, just a month shy of the year anniversary of the fight, his body has changed far too drastically for it to be natural, or otherwise normal. His face softens in a way that’s so distinctly not-Billy, it makes Steve want to never see him that way again, “Steve..”

“Fuck off.”

But it’s too late, “Why’re you doin’ it?”

“Leave me alone, Hargrove. For real.”

“Don’t be stubborn, man. Lemme help you.”

“You don’t even know me, douchebag. I’m fine so just stop it.” Steve insists, panic rising in his chest, making his breath come out short and his throat real tight.

Billy doesn’t relent though.

“Yeah? Well I do know you’re starving yourself.” Billy counters, his tone surprisingly animated. It’s almost make Steve feel special if Billy wasn’t being an ass, “Used to think the school lunches were just below you. Thought your ass was too expensive for cold pizza like the rest of us ate. But I get it now. S’why you don’t drink either isn’t it?”

“Okay, you’ve been stalking me?”

“Just been keepin’ an eye on my competition. N’I don’t much like it when my competition starts gettin’ too depressed to even put up a damn fight.” It’s obvious Billy’s using that as a cover for something deeper that Steve doesn’t get, wishing Billy would just come out and say it already.

“Well I’m not much of a threat. Never was.” He prompts, but what Billy responds with instead instead is, “Exactly, and whose fault is that?”

Steve raises his eyebrows, surprised by the venom behind Billy's words. He’s even more surprised when Billy tears into him again, “M’serious. You’re wasting yourself away. It’s no damn wonder you can’t keep up anymore.”

That stings. “I thought you were getting better, but you’re clearly still an asshole.”

“And I thought you were alright to begin with. But I guess we’re both wrong.”

“So what the hell do you want me to say? Thank you my savior for savin’ me from myself?”

“Would you let me?” It’s not the answer Steve is expecting, the way Billy’s been acting since he confronted him, and he makes sure he knows, asking, “What?”

“Would you let me help you? Save you from what you’re doing?” Billy tries again, and it’s even more blindsiding this time.

“Like you even could. You said it yourself, Hargrove. I’m kicking my own ass here. You can’t help me.”

“I bet I could. You need someone in your corner.” Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Billy cuts him off quickly, “That curlyheaded kid don’t count. You need someone to look out for you. I’d let you be King again if it stopped this from happening.”

“But why would you?”

“I got my reasons.”

“Then just fucking tell me. If it’s good, I might think about it.”

“Look, I like you Harrington. I ain’t gonna stand by and watch you do this to yourself. Why’d you think I was checkin’ up on you in the first place?”

“To rub it in my fucking face that I’m unstable or some shit. Try to get dirt on me so you can make my life even more miserable.”

“What do I gotta do to show ya I really care then?” Billy sighs, but Steve hardly has the mind to detect his frustration, because he’s suddenly hung up by this declaration, simple to Billy but astroninal to him, “Wait- care? You mean, you don’t just like me in the same way everyone likes King Steve?”

“No. I meant it in the other way, Steve. The way I’m not so good at saying with words. The way I’ve trying to show you since we made things right. But I guess I’m not really good at this crush shit either.” Billy’s so bashful, so genuine, Steve knows he’s being honest, but some part of him can’t process it still.

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head, can’t believe it long enough to even look Billy in the eyes and deny it, “No-No you don’t. You’re fucking with me.”

“I do and I’m not. And that’s exactly why I’m not gonna sit around and watch this- this slow death you’re putting yourself through.”

Suddenly, this whole conversation goes from frustrating and pissing him off, to embarrassing. Like Billy's perception of him somehow changed his own. It’s funny how he was willing to argue with an enemy, but the second that other motive came into play, Steve finds himself flustered and trying to cover his tracks with a declaration of, “It’s not even that bad.”

But Billy continues to be a sweet talker, and he begs, all gentle and considerate, “Then let me fix it before it is. Please, Steve?”

“Okay.. okay.” Steve nods, biting the corner of his nail as he thinks, regretting it and shoving his hands in his pocket instead. He starts, after a moment of trying to collect his thoughts, “Just- Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too. That’s the only reason I’m accepting this.”

“Fine by me. How ‘bout I follow you back to yours tonight? Keep an eye on you still. Keep my promise too.” Billy offers, tone somewhat hopeful.

In response, Steve smiles shakily, so nervous his heart pounds in his chest. His ribs feel weak against its rhythm, like his chest could cave in from the combination of nerves and admiration, at knowing someone actually cared for him. He’s never felt more fragile than he does for Billy.

“I would like that a lot, Billy.”

[willowbird]

For the prompt game — could you do AU 1, trope 8, location 2 for Andreil? I always love reading these, thanks for sharing!

Grad School, return of the childhood best friend, inside Andrew's closet!!! Thank you so much for sending in the ask I'm glad you're enjoying the little ficlets and I hope you like this one too!

-----

Tall people were a curse. A blight on all of society. Civilization would undoubtedly crumble under the obnoxious stomping of their huge feet and the polar ice caps would melt at least in part due to the heat from their big fat heads.

Also, all the tall fuckers in Andrew's cohort were constantly putting things in places Andrew couldn't reach, especially when it came to the supply closet off of the office the group of them communally used. It had gotten to the point that Andrew had taken full command of the ordering and organization of all their supplies. Last month he had even gone so far as to print out and laminate a full-color sign for the closet that read: NO ONE ABOVE 5'3 PERMITTED. SEE ANDREW J MINYARD FOR ALL SUPPLY RETRIEVAL.

The only reason he'd given the extra few inches at all was because Robin, the undergrad TA that assisted in one of his classes, sometimes helped him out and she was a whole three inches taller than him. It was enough of a restriction that it barred the rest of his cohort from intruding, though, as even Renee was a solid 5'8.

Or at least, it should have been an effective restriction. Andrew had thought the rest of his team could read well enough to get the goddamn message. Then he showed up this morning and the fucking closet door was open and where was the box of printer ink he'd ordered last week?

That's right, on the top fucking shelf.

When Andrew figured out which idiotic fucking beanpole had decided to pull this shit with him there was going to be hell to pay. He would raid his cat's litter box for ammunition if he had to.

For the moment, though, he needed to replace the ink in both printers. Which was why he was balancing precariously on the arms of the only non-rolly chair on the goddamn floor, straining to reach the box of ink and quietly promising to take an extra dose of revenge out of each and every person over 5'3 if he fell.

Which he almost did when a sharp knock suddenly echoed a bit too loud from directly behind him.

"Jesus fuck what is wrong with y--" Andrew cut off abruptly as he looked over his shoulder to see who had dared come up behind him at a time like this. He blinked, then he fully closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. When the man before him was still fucking there, Andrew twisted slightly and jumped down, letting his ass hit the seat as he overbalanced on the landing.

"Um... hi."

It had been almost ten years since Andrew had heard that voice. Ten years. In that time Neil had gone from being a scrawny, anxious kid to... well...

Vivid blue eyes stared at him steadily, winged with eyeliner that only made them brighter. His dark russet-auburn hair was shaved close to his head on the sides but long enough on the top that he'd gathered it back in a loose bun, which only emphasized the perfect angles of his face and the soft give of his mouth, the way his chin carved down to a point as if to frame it, drawing the eye.

"Andrew? I didn't mean to surprise you. Well, I did, that's why I didn't tell you I was coming. I didn't mean to almost make you fall off a chair though..."

Neil clicked a tongue-piercing against his teeth. It flashed silver for a moment, matching the two bars that bisected his left eyebrow. Purple studs and a line of tiny hoops trailed up each ear.

Andrew stared, then he did the only rational thing and reached forward, grabbing the doorknob and slamming it shut with himself inside the closet.

His heart was fucking pounding, and he knew his face was flushed because, look. Look. Neil Josten at fourteen years old had been a scrawny kid with big ears and a chipped tooth that was always covered in bruises and Andrew had been so fucking in love with him. All he ever wanted to do as a baby gay was kiss Neil Josten. Thought about it all the time. But that had been off the table because Neil was his best friend and probably asexual and also literally trying to survive. When Neil moved to the other side of the fucking planet to be with his uncle, Andrew had told himself that this was a good thing because 1) Neil would be safe and 2) if there was distance between them then Andrew could finally get over him.

Over the last ten years they'd exchanged regular letters, but because Neil was a fucking technophobe and there may or may not have been an actual hit from actual hitmen and gangsters and shit on him over here in the states - they hadn't spoken on the phone and no pictures had been shared.

And now here was Neil. Almost twenty-four and... so so fucking hot.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a quiet, anxious, "Andrew..?" that sounded a lot more like the Neil Andrew remembered.

"Um... should I go? I'm sorry... I thought... I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'll go..."

"No!" The word escaped him before he had time to really think about it. He was pretty sure his voice cracked a little in his desperation too. Shit. Andrew cleared his throat and tried again. "Just... wait. I.. need to get ink."

"Okay."

Andrew did his best not to read into the mystery in Neil's tone. Instead, he thanked the closet gods and carefully climbed back up onto the chair. Another couple of minutes later he had the ink he needed and was facing a coming out he really never anticipated having to go through. Coming out of the closet to your best friend was one thing. Coming out of the literal, actual closet you have shut yourself in to reunite with your super hot best friend that you've been in love with for over a decade at this point was quite another.

Ripping the band-aid off was really the only way to go, so Andrew took a deep breath, put his free hand on the knob, and opened the door.

Neil had repositioned himself and was now leaning against the nearest desk. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows exposing strong forearms decorated with swirls of dark ink. Three fingers on each hand bore rings (not the ring fingers, not that Andrew was specifically looking) and his nails were painted a dark, glossy gray. Around one wrist was a frayed bracelet that perfectly matched the one Andrew also wore on the same wrist.

As soon as Neil saw him, he lit up. A smile on his face that shined in his eyes, even if there was a slight hesitance to it - understandable considering Andrew had just.. you know... shut himself in a closet after seeing him.

"Hey... Sorry again, about that. I know you don't like to be startled. I just... I got excited."

Andrew swallowed, a tough feat with a throat so dry. Somehow, he managed a snort. "Like a puppy. Should I be worried about my floors, Josten?"

"I dunno, you gonna scratch me behind the ears?" Neil shot back, and the smirk that accompanied it was fucking devastating. That's is, Andrew gave up. He lost. Dead, he was dead. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

Andrew did the only thing he could do to keep himself from grabbing the little bastard and kissing him senseless, which was ask the big question hanging in the room between them.

"How are you here, Neil? I thought you'd never be able to come back to American soil."

Neil rubbed the back of his neck, like he was thinking of the best way to explain it. After a moment he said, "Uncle Stuart still doesn't think it's a great idea - but there's no price on my head anymore. As of last month we cleared out the last of... well, let's just call them the old bad guys. There are new bad guys, but they don't really care about me."

It took a moment for that to fully sink in. Andrew set down the ink on the desk and moved to stand directly in front of Neil. When Neil stood up straight, they were almost exactly the same height - Neil only really had a few inches on him. At least he hadn't been lying to make him feel better when he'd told him in a letter a few years back that he'd topped out at 5'3.

"So? Don't you have a whole new life over in jolly old England now? Friends and family who don't regularly try to kill you? Why come back at all?"

He knew why, but he wanted - he needed - to hear him say it.

"Yeah, but... they aren't you."

"Me."

"Yeah, Andrew. You."

Their eyes met. Something in Andrew's chest snapped like an overworked rubber band stretched too taut and all the carefully sequestered feelings it had been keeping at bay suddenly sprang forth like a tidal wave. They rushed through him, filling him up, buoying him until he probably could have reached the top shelf of that goddamn closet without the chair.

"I hate you," Andrew ground out. And Neil smiled, because he knew it wasn't true.

"I missed you, Andrew. I missed you so fucking much."

"Shut up, stupid." Andrew forced himself to take a deep breath, then he snatched up Neil's hand and started dragging him out of the office. "Come on. We're getting ice cream."

Neil laughed and squeezed his hand. "Some things never change."

No, Andrew thought, some things never do.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Sixteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3021

Warnings: None

A/n Every chapter, you all make me smile so much <3 Thank you!

Haldir leaves and I let out something halfway between an exhale and a groan.

What. Was. That.

My room, which is a very respectable size, felt like a matchbox as the space between Haldir and I minimized. He went from weeks of keeping a consistent physical barrier between us to ghosting his hands over my arms, my hips, my waist…It’s…new.

And when he held me close, his chest so nearly brushing against my back—

I shake my head against the onslaught of scenarios that run through my mind.

I should not be thinking of him this way.

Haldir is a friend, a guide, an instructor, nothing more.

I let out a deep breath and begin to pace, trying to work off this newfound energy. Haldir and I trained for nearly two hours, I should be exhausted. Instead, I feel wide awake, invigorated, jittery, like I couldn’t possibly go to sleep. I groan, taking my hair out of its bun and letting it fall around me. I stop in my tracks, glancing at the spot where Haldir and I stood so close together just moments ago.

I cannot stay here.

I tear through the open door, turning right and taking the staircase that leads to the first floor. I turn left and, before I know it, I’m standing in front of Alex’s closed door.

I knock.

The door creaks open. “Hey,” he greets, opening it wider to allow me in. “What’s up?”

“I uh,” I purse my lips, having not really thought through my plan. I do need a distraction though, and being out of my room is already helping clear the fog from my brain. My eyes catch a pile of books on his nightstand. “I came to help you research, if that’s okay.”

His face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. I’ve read those three so far,” he gestures to a small stack by the window, “and there’s nothing helpful in them. Everything else in English is fair game. Is there anything specific you want to look into?”

“Fæs.” I’m surprised that the answer comes to me so easily, but as soon I speak the word, I know it’s true — I do want to learn more.

Alex nods slowly. “Yeah, okay, I think I’ve got a couple books on that here. Let me….” He trails off, spinning in a circle as he searches for a specific volume. “Ah.” He squats down and grabs a book near the foot of his bed, reaching it up to me.

An image of Haldir, crouched on the ground, hand warm against my ankle, staring up at me with such intensity, so much confidence—

Alex stands and I look to the ceiling, trying to will away the image and the feelings that come rushing along with it.

“What makes you want to learn about fæs? Isn’t that an elf thing?”

I purse my lips, stalling until the embarrassment fades enough to look Alex in the eye. “Haldir mentioned that humans have their own version of a fæ — a little weaker, a little different, but generally the same concept.” An idea begins to take form, and I roll with it. “I was wondering if—assuming that our fæs remained unchanged between our homeworld and Arda—well, if we could use it somehow, tap into it and reclaim our memories. If anything were to remember, wouldn’t it be our spirits?”

Alex nods slowly, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Great thinking! Let me know if you find anything.”

He settles into the couch, leaving the bed for me. Gratefully, I cozy up against the pillows. I open the book, skimming the introductory chapter, which is basically just a summary of the core concepts Haldir has already explained to me. When I’m on chapter three, the sky passes firmly into night, and even the plethora of candles Alex has lit aren’t enough to keep my eyes from straining.

I pull my knees to my chest and lean forward, glancing over at my friend. His cheeks — which had been gaunt when we first reunited, now take a healthy shape. His shoulders no longer hold vestiges of tension — they lean relaxed, leisurely, against the back of the couch. Even in the limited light, he squints his eyes and continues to read, seeming intent on soaking up as much knowledge as he can.

I rest my chin on my knees. “I need to ask you something.”

He looks up, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Okay?”

“Are you alright?”

He sighs, shifting in his seat. “Cosima…”

“No,” I protest. I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable, he needs to talk about things. He’s been bottling it up since he arrived in this world and it hasn’t done anyone any good. “I mean it.”

Alex groans, shaking his head. “Fine, okay. It’s…strange.” He pauses, but I wait, holding out hope that he’ll continue. He does so, slowly. “I’ve…gotten myself to accept that I’m in a different world, but I can’t wrap my mind around the how. That’s stressful. We don’t have a solid plan to return home, nor do we know if we’ll find one. That’s depressing. And, I have flashes and snippets of memories, but otherwise, I feel like I don’t know who I am.”

My heart breaks. Here my friend is, hurting, lost…

And I’ve left him completely alone.

Alex tilts his head to the side, contemplating. “But I do feel better than when we arrived, or even just from a few days ago. Having things to do, feeling useful and like I have agency for the first time…it’s really good for me. And, well,” he dips his head then raises it again, leveling his eyes on me. “It’s helped me realize something else — that I owe you an apology.”

I blink in surprise. I’ve been the one that has pretty much abandoned and ignored him. I should be apologizing.

“On the road, I said some pretty mean things, and I isolated you from your friends and tried to take control. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I was…” he sighs, shaking his head, “scared out of my mind. I already felt like I couldn’t do anything to fix the problem, and then on top of that I felt like you had completely given up and it was my job to save us both. And I know now that’s not the case, but for a while…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re just more adaptable than I am, I guess.”

I push myself off the bed, cross the room, and sit next to him on the small couch. Automatically, he throws an arm over my shoulder, the movement so familiar and easy that he must have done it a thousand times before. I lay my head on his shoulder, the bone there pressing against my ear.

I take a deep breath. “If we had really been kidnapped, or injured, or anything more realistic than what actually happened,” he gives a small, tired laugh, the movement shaking his shoulder, “you would’ve been the one to get us out. I know it. Even now, you’re the one putting in all the hard work to get us home. I’m sorry I’ve pretty much left you to handle it alone.”

He squeezes my upper arm gently. “I appreciate it, but I don’t blame you. I get it.” He shrugs again, a measure of sadness creeping into his voice. “It’s not like you remember anyone enough to miss them. If you have people you like here, of course you’d focus on them.”

I feel my lips pull into a guilty frown. “They like you too, you know. You all just need to spend some more time together—”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, pushing a smile onto his face. “It’s okay, honestly — we just don’t click. But I have you, and Baranor and I get along well, and I have this project to work on. It’s enough for me.”

I sigh, resting my head against his chest. I hope that’s true.

{***}

At breakfast, Lavandil and I make plans to meet at her shop. She gives me directions and I hurry up the stairs to my room, changing out of my tunic and leggings and into something a little more fun for my first day of work. I settle on a dark purple gown, one that billows down my arm in puffy gossamer sleeves and has a slight, sparkly train. I’m probably a bit overdressed, but knowing Lavandil’s extravagant wardrobe, I’ll fit in just fine. I bound down the staircase, eager to discover the market and the shop. I turn left, intent on exiting the building.

And crash into the middle of someone’s chest.

Hands grip my upper arms, steadying me as I stumble back. Once I’m righted, I look up, and my mouth falls open.

“Cosima—”

“Haldir—”

Both of us freeze, having spoken at the same time. I purse my lips, waiting for him to go first. He raises an eyebrow, evidently expecting the same of me.

But I can’t make the words happen. His hands on my arms send my mind right back to the tension of last night, to the room that started light and open and turned more intimate than it should as the night went on.

Haldir’s arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you turning the corner. Are you alright?”

I nod, my eyes darting from his chest clothed in a cobalt blue tunic up to his eyes. The intensity from last night is gone, now replaced with a noticeable degree of hesitance.

Interesting.

Did he feel something last night, too? Or does he know I did, and now feels awkward around me?

That last thought sends a wave of stress through me. Was I horribly obvious? Have I messed everything up?

“Are you off to Lavandil’s shop,” he inquires, pulling my mind away from these anxiety-inducing thoughts.

“Yes.”

He quirks a smile. “Then I imagine you will be seeing a lot of my brother today. He has a tendency to hang around there.”

“Probably a result of him being in love with the shop-owner,” I quip, voice going high with nerves.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”

We fall into awkward silence.

Haldir clears his throat. “Well, enjoy your day.”

“You too,” I nod, crossing paths with him to exit the building.

Once outside, I take in a gulping breath.

Did I create all that weirdness? Or is he struggling to figure out how to act around me, too? And why?

Things have never been strained or awkward between myself and Haldir. Once he got over his initial suspicion of me, we got along easily. I feel like he understands me better than the others and, if I had to pick a favorite, as Rumil prompted me not so long ago, it would be, without question, the supposedly-stern Marchwarden leading our company. And, based on the amount of time he spends with me of his own accord, I would say he enjoys my presence, too.

So, that begs the question, what could have happened to turn all that ease on its head and replace it with stilted, awkward, unsure interactions? We were fine until last night—

I suck in a breath.

My brain, apparently useless until I looked the issue straight in the eye, starts piecing together instances of my time with Haldir, forming a terrifying and exhilarating picture.

Sleeping between me and the entrance to our camp so I wouldn’t be frightened. Spending hours alone with me lying on a blanket staring up at the stars. The way he panicked and looked after me when I had my migraine. Big things like that and smaller ones, too — the way he teases me, the way he always makes sure I’m cared for, whether that means sharing from his canteen or sending me with food when I’m likely to miss dinner. The way he’s conscious of my fears—heights, orcs, you name it—and provides support without coddling me, enabling me to handle and face them on my own. The way his arms, so gentle yet so secure, held me close, even for just the smallest of moments.

Could we…have feelings for each other?

Could this rapid and strong attachment to an ellon I met mere weeks ago be something other than friendship?

With a sinking feeling in my gut, the momentary rush of excitement falls into something much more sinister. Something that, in any other world would be a wonderful, thrilling feeling—the one I am developing feelings for maybe, potentially, might see me the same way—is here, horrifying.  

Because elves live forever and love only once.

And a human lifespan is dismally short.

Rumil’s face after our conversation yesterday, crestfallen and saddened, comes to my mind.

If my mere friendship with these ellyn will cause them grief when I’m gone, then even entertaining these thoughts about Haldir….

It’s deplorable.

From the heart of the city, the bell chimes. I’m late to meet Lavandil.

I shove down the ache that makes my lips quiver and hurry down the path that will lead me to the market.

The distraction of working with Lavandil will be my lifeline.

I cannot allow my feelings for Haldir progress any further. So, though I’m not sure how effective I’ll be, I swear not to think about him for the rest of the day.

{***}

“What happened last night between you and Haldir?”

Damn.

I made it two hours.

I swallow, trying to seem busy as I hang a tapestry on a display. “What?”

Lavandil comes up beside me, using her height to hang the art properly. “Rumil told Orophin who told me that Haldir came back from training with you and seemed quite flustered.”

My body runs hot. “Did he?”

“Mhm,” she nods decisively. “Apparently he returned to the room in a rush, wouldn’t say a thing, and then spent over three hours at the training grounds, sparring quite harshly with some of the guard.”

Even though the tapestry is hung, I pretend to fuss with it, not brave enough to meet Lavandil’s eyes. “Nothing happened. Maybe he just wanted a better workout — I can’t imagine I was much of a challenge.” I try for a joke, and mercifully, she gives me a pity laugh.

Her demeanor softens. “Cosima, you know there’s nothing wrong with having an attraction, or even feelings.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with it,” I shriek, much louder than I meant to. I look at her with wide eyes, surprised by my outburst.

Thankfully, no one is in the shop, and Lavandil only regards me with calm eyes, no judgement in them.

“I’m sorry,” I hurry to apologize, sitting myself in a chair at a nearby table. On top of it sits a beautiful garnet tablecloth — Lavandil’s work. She sits across from me.

“It’s alright,” she smiles kindly, resting her elbows on the table to mirror me. “I had a similar disposition when I realized I loved Orophin.”

“I don’t love him,” I correct quickly.

She puts her hands up in the sign for surrender, though her bottom lip pulls like she’s trying not to make a face.

“I don’t,” I insist, putting effort into keeping my tone non-angry. I lower my voice, worried, perhaps irrationally, that Haldir himself will go waltzing by and hear my dreadful confession. “It’s, at most, an interest, and probably not even that. Likely more of a curiosity.”

“Well, interests are nothing to be ashamed of.” Her tone matches my low volume and carries in it a gentleness I could never hope to emulate.

“Yes, they do!” My voice drops to nearly a whisper. “Lavandil, he is an elf. You know I’m human. The two don’t mix well.”

She huffs. “There’s nothing to say that. An elleth here, Arwen—”

“Is walking into a tragedy,” I cut her off.

Lavandil’s eyes narrow. “Too many people see it that way, and it is getting quite old. Do you know what I see? Two souls in love. Though their futures are bleak and incompatible, their presents are filled with joy and love and the connection that can only come from two fæs who want each other so badly finally bonded. They would still face pain if they ignored their love for each other — so why not give themselves what joy they can?”

“But she will die—”

Now it’s Lavandil’s turn to interrupt. “Arwen is fully grown. She is wise, and I trust that she knows herself well enough to make the choices she has. Her life is ultimately her own. She can spend it how she pleases.”

I press my lips together, head falling to stare at the deep red tablecloth. Despite Lavandil’s conviction, her words do nothing to allay my fears.

The only thing that awaits an elf bonded with a human is grief and death.

Arwen may have made her choice, but so have I made mine.

“Rumil said elves can take centuries to fall in love. Is that true?”

Lavandil pauses, caught off guard with my change in topic. “I-in some cases, yes. More that it could potentially take that long for an elf to admit they are in love. Often, even if they are not ready to accept it, their fæs know. And even then, that is the timeline in the most rare of cases. You know, for Orophin and I it only took a matter of—”

I raise my eyes to her, pleading. “Lavandil.”

She sighs, staring at me like she wishes I had asked her something else. “Fine, yes. Elves fall slower than humans.”

I take in a deep breath, nodding.

Good.

Because if I have only just noticed these feelings, chances are, if Haldir were to follow suit, he is way behind. The instance Lavandil described from last night, the other hints that show he might be feeling something…I can end them now.

I have time to stop this.

I have time to save him.

A/n So, funny thing, @errruvande got pretty close to guessing Cosima’s reaction to realizing her feelings for Haldir, so shout out to Liza!!! Seriously though, love her, love her blog, I’d definitely recommend checking her account out! Thank you all for reading! 

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande 

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

[omori-brainrot]

The Only One Left

tws: suicide, emetophobia, self-harm, death, grief, alcohol mentions

After the worst neutral ending, Aubrey and Kel soon follow Mari, Basil, and Sunny. Hero is the only one left, and he’s struggling to live with that. But at least his college friends are there when he needs it most.

I’m so sorry but this barged into my brain and wouldn’t leave until it was written and posted.

When Hero goes back to school after the funeral, he hangs one of Kel’s old jerseys on the knob of his dorm-room closet. He needs something to remember his brother by, something to make him feel like he’s not alone. Of course, he’s not really alone. He’s still an underclassman, so he shares his room with Josh.

He’d gotten lucky with his roommate: they’d managed to reach the storybook ideal of not only getting along, but becoming friends. Still. He wished there was no one around to see him cry for hours over the jersey, to see him start favoring the snooze button over his morning classes, to see him sink deeper into himself until he was sure he’d never surface.

Josh had been good-natured about it, at least. He never pointed out the cutting classes when Hero despaired about his grades after the fact, and when Hero couldn’t bring himself to stop sobbing when Josh needed to study, he just put on headphones or went to the library without a single complaint or sign of annoyance.

Hero wonders if Josh knows how close he feels to dying too.

How everyday feels like tar is pulsing through his body, getting caught in his organs and weighing him down until it feels like he’ll never breathe again.

He tells himself that if he joined his old friends, he’d be inflicting the same pain he lived with everyday onto his college friends. That if he were gone, their lives would be shattered instead of his.

Get over yourself. They don’t care that much. They don’t even know you. You only met a year and a half ago. They were fine without you before then. And besides, you’re not the best company anyway. You weren’t there though to stop Mari from hanging herself. You couldn't see the signs. You weren’t there enough to stop Sunny and Basil from stabbing themselves the night before Sunny was supposed to get a new start. You should have reached out earlier. You weren’t there enough to keep Aubrey from getting into that stupid drunk accident. You knew she was drinking too much and too often in an attempt to make her world bearable, you should have done something. You couldn’t stop Kel from poisoning himself with all those chemicals in the bathroom. You knew how hard it was for him to open up about negative emotions without being prompted, and you knew he was so alone after everyone else left. You should have come back from college more often. Why would anyone still want to be friends with you? Why would anyone care if someone like you was gone?

When thinking about his new friends doesn’t work, he reminds himself of his parents. They’d already lost one child. They’d be devastated to lose another. He couldn’t do that to them.

It doesn’t matter. They’re disappointed in you anyway. They see your falling grades and talk about how you shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because of what happened to Kel. They don’t understand that your only dream now is to make this constant pain stop. Besides, what does it matter if this hurts them? They should have been there for Kel when you were gone. As soon as you think that, you feel terrible. Which only makes you want to hurt yourself more.

Still, something makes him want to keep trying for a little while longer. Whatever it takes.

Which is how he ends up sitting over the trash can, taking a flimsy plastic dining hall knife to his arms.

If he wants to hurt himself but doesn’t want to die, this is the best he can do. Besides, it’s a little past midnight after a Friday, so Josh is attending whatever gatherings a non-imploding person attends on a Friday night.

Hero supposes that he should feel worse that things have come to this. But with every sting he only feels relief, even when he presses hard enough for the knife to draw shallow lines of blood.

For once, he’s barely thinking about anything else. Even with the jersey casting a shadow at the corner of his eye. He could get used to this sense of mindless pain.

When the door swings open and the light flicks on at a much earlier time than expected, his first response is to flinch back. It’s a second too late when it occurs to him that she should be rolling his sleeves back down.

Josh runs over, gently grabbing his arms and keeping him from doing so. “Wait. Wait.” He inspects the wounds for a moment. Looking worried, yet relieved that the injuries aren’t serious, he locks eyes with Hero. “Are you okay?” Hero opens his mouth, searching for an answer, but Josh continues. “Wait, you don’t have to answer that. That was a dumb question. Of course you’re not.”

“Yeah.” Hero says under his breath. He averts his eyes to the side of Josh’s head. He should have been more careful. What kind of person gets caught their first time self-harming? No wonder he’s so useless.

“If you let me take the knife with me, I can get some wet paper towels from the bathroom to help you clean up.” Josh holds out his hand, eyebrows creased in concern but eyes wide with expectation. Hero hands the knife over, ignoring the pang of reluctance to stop.

Josh races out of the room, and Hero takes a moment to look at his own cuts. He’s surprised at how many there are. He’d stopped paying attention while he was doing it. However, none of them look very bad, with the worst only bleeding very lightly.

Josh comes back faster than Hero expected, and diligently gets to work pressing the paper towels to the bleeding cuts. Hero winces a little at the sting, but he doesn’t mind this. It reminds him of when he was a child and his mother would clean up his scrapes. He realizes with a jolt that he doesn’t want to go back to hurting himself tonight.

“I hope you don’t mind me prying, but does this have anything to do with what you were telling me a couple months ago?”

“About—” Hero swallows thickly. He can’t bring himself to clarify. Besides, what could Josh be referring to besides Kel’s death? “Yeah.” His voice comes out strained.

“I’m sorry.” They sit in silence for a moment. “Hey, would it make it better or worse if I got Michelle and Dennis? We could get ice cream and you could tell us about your brother. Dennis said that helped when his aunt died.”

He was sure he’d want to say no—heck, he couldn’t bring himself to go to his favorite classes easily. But ice cream sounded nice, and he’d never noticed it before, but he was aching for someone to talk to. There was only one issue.

“Isn’t it almost one a.m.?”

Josh waved a hand dismissively. “That’s no problem if you want to go. I know a great all-night diner.”

That’s how he ended up in a nearly empty Denny’s with a few casual friends.

“Of course he’d refer to Denny’s as ‘a great all-night diner’.” Michelle dips a fry in her chocolate milkshake. Hero smiles slightly at her, eating a spoonful of his hot fudge sundae. The coldness of the ice cream is soothing, and he feels just a little bit better.

“Yeah, Josh, did you think Hero’s never heard of Denny’s before?”

“Hey, you’re not one to criticize me here. We came here for ice cream and you got pancakes.” Josh’s voice is light with playful teasing.

“So? They’re dessert pancakes. And there’s a scoop of ice cream on them.” Dennis gestures to the scoop with a flourish. “What does that have to do with you treating Denny’s like some obscure local mystery, anyway?”

Hero laughs a little. It feels unfamiliar and distant, but at the same time, somehow… right. He’s glad to not be alone tonight. Josh smiles with him. His eyes are still tinged with worry, but he’d reassured Hero on the drive here that none of the others had been told about the self-harm.

“So, Josh said we’re here because you had something to get off your mind?” Michelle looks at him, her worry less intense but still noticeable, like the mechanical whirring of a fridge in the background.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, poking at his sundae. How could he even begin to say what was wrong? Hero figured he should just start with the part that had been hurting him the most in the past months. “I don’t know if you remember my brother’s funeral a while ago, but…”

“You miss him?” Her voice is soft, gentle.

He nods, tears burning in his eyes.

“What was he like?”

Hero takes a rattling breath. “He really liked basketball. He played it every day after school. I don’t think he was all that close with anyone on his team, but he liked playing it a lot.”

“Is the jersey on your closet his team jersey?” Josh glances at him.

He shakes his head. “No, he just bought that one at the store. Sports clothes were like his default uniform, whether he had practice or not.”

Dennis nods slightly. “I’ve known people like that. I think they just practice so much it’s not worth changing clothes.”

A small smile tugs at Hero’s lips. “Yep, that sounds like Kel. Always on the move.” He glances across the restaurant at another one of the late-night patrons, someone about his age drinking a cup of coffee. “Honestly, I bet part of it was all the caffeine .” Hero wrinkles his nose, a strange mixture of affection and loss nested in the hollowness of his chest. “He drank an unnatural amount of Orange Joe.”

“I didn’t know anyone actually drank that.” Michelle takes a long sip of her milkshake.

“Small base of loyal customers, I guess.” A memory drifts into Hero’s mind, and for once he doesn’t push it away. “I can’t believe he kept drinking it after that hot dog competition. He won, but he drank so much Orange Joe afterwards that he threw up before we left the fair. He always said it was worth it, though.”

Michelle shakes her head. “Siblings.”

For a moment, Hero is reminded of a dozen other conversations he’s had about Kel. He’d tell his grade school classmates about a recent squabble, or something funny Kel did, and that’s what they’d say.

Then the stark contrast of reality hits him. This isn’t a petty fight that will be resolved in a few hours, or a story where nothing serious is wrong. He’s up at one am having this conversation because Kel is gone, because Kel will never win another game, will never drink more unhealthy quantities of soda, will never even graduate high school. He’s here because Kel was found dead on the bathroom floor, next to an emptied bottle of cleaning fluid, and Hero hadn’t done enough to stop him.

He puts his spoon down and lays his head in his arms. Everything feels so heavy. “I should have been there.”

“It wasn’t your fault—” Josh starts, but Hero doesn’t let him finish.

“Yes, it was!” A few of the other late-night patrons glance at their table, and he realizes he said that much louder than he meant to. Taking a shuddering breath, he continues more quietly. “I should have been there. I could have taken more time off school, he was more important than a few stupid assignments. I…” he has to stop to take another uneven breath. His voice is shaky, and he’s not sure how much longer he can speak before he dissolves into sobs, so he talks faster. “I knew he was having a hard time, and I don’t think anyone else could tell because he just acted like he was fine. If I had been there…” He breaks. The crying he was holding back can’t be contained any longer. His shoulders shake and his throat burns. He doesn’t even care if the other people in the diner are staring. Through a blur of tears, he can see his friends looking at him with concern, waiting for him to get it all out.

When he catches his breath, he forces himself to keep talking. He feels like he has to get this out, no matter how much it hurts, no matter if he has to look away from his friends to bear to say it. “He killed himself. And I wasn’t there.”

Michelle is the first to speak. “I’m so sorry…”

Josh puts a hand over his. “That’s horrible… I’m sorry you have to live with that.” He pulls his hand back. “You must feel horribly guilty, but I really don’t think it was your fault.”

“You… don’t?” God, he imagines he looks so pathetic right now.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re just a person. There’s only so much you could have done. You clearly loved him a lot, and I’m sure that meant a lot to him.”

“But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t there enough.” Hero’s sure he sounds like a broken record, but it’s all he’s been able to think about in the months since Kel’s death.

“Dude, you can’t save everyone. You can’t hold yourself to that standard.” Dennis’s voice is gentle, encouraging.

Hero looks away again, fresh tears emerging. “If that was all it was, maybe I’d think you’re right. But it’s not the first time this has happened.” He picks up his spoon, smushing the unmelted parts of the ice cream as he speaks. “I looked it up and it’s called a suicide cluster, but everyone else in town just calls it a curse.” He wipes away the new tears. “It doesn’t matter what you call it, though. Everyone I’ve grown up with is gone.”

“Shit…” For once, Josh is at a loss for words.

Michelle shakes her head. “It’s still not your fault. The only person who’s life and mental health you’re personally responsible for is your own. The most any of us can do for anyone else is be there and hope that’s enough, but if it’s not, that’s not your fault.”

Josh seems to come back to himself. “Yeah, absolutely. I stand by what I said before, no matter how many people died, because the same logic applies each time.”

“Wow… thanks.” It hasn’t fully set in, and to be honest, he doesn’t fully believe it either, but hearing that someone else believes it makes him feel a little better. “I’m… I’m scared it will never stop. What if everyone I get close to just keeps dying?”

“I… don’t think that will happen.” Dennis shrugs. “I mean, no matter what your town says, you’re not cursed or anything. It won’t go on forever.”

“Yeah, I guess so. My brain just needs to catch up, I guess.”

“It will, eventually.”

Michelle tilts her head slightly to one side. “If you don’t mind me asking, who else did you lose? No pressure, don’t answer if it will make things worse.”

Hero shakes his head. “It’s fine, I came here to get things off my chest anyway.” He pauses for a moment. “Let’s see… first, there was my high school girlfriend. That was four years ago. Last summer, her younger brother and a boy we were friends with growing up died on the same night, and earlier this year, before what happened to Kel, another friend got into an accident.” He feels like he should be more emotional as he says it, but he just feels empty. Like he’ll never feel human again.

“That’s terrible… if you ever want to talk about any of them, I’d be glad to listen.”

“Thanks.” The missing emotion is already bubbling back up a bit, and he has to swallow back tears. “You know, I don’t think anyone’s really asked me about any of them before tonight.” He sighs. “I kind of wish they would, now. I really liked telling you guys about Kel.”

“He sounds like a great brother.”

Hero’s tears start falling again, but somehow it isn’t as bad as before. “Thanks, he was.”

[heartfragment]

Heart Fragment Walkthrough: Kay

When you discover the secrets of your family's past, Kay is the first ally to appear. Kay does not define himself by the fact that he is blind; rather, he is dependable, energetic, and cheerful - like sunshine. But sometimes his happiness somehow feels like a mask that he puts on...

Note: Most endings have multiple ways of getting to them. This is a guide to guarantee you get them all, but feel free to mix and match or experiment with your own ideas!

Endings Overview

(for those who don't want a full guide, just the general idea of how to get the endings; if you want a step-by-step guide instead, keep reading!)

Kay branch 1 criteria: Certain traits will add points towards this branch. Branch 1 can be unlocked by focusing on the following traits: cautious, paranoid, nosey OR by having a heart that is orange or lower.

Kay branch 1, good end, romantic: end the route with a pink heart or higher

Kay branch 1, good end, platonic: end the route with an orange heart or lower

Kay branch 2 criteria: Branch 2 can be unlocked by focusing on the following traits: extremely high trust (bar to full is dark colored or almost fully dark colored), extremely low ego/selflessness (bar is pastel colored or almost fully pastel colored) OR by avoiding the traits paranoid, cautious, and nosey OR by heart that is pink or higher OR by selecting dialogue options that reinforce Kay's dependence on you.

Kay branch 2, good, romantic: end the route without any bad endings and you are guaranteed this, as there is no platonic end in branch 2

Kay bad ending 1: two potential moments can bring on this ending. 1st option is to keep your points with Kay low (a green heart or less is recommended) OR have the paranoid trait unlocked during Friday of Act 2. 2nd option is to have the paranoid trait unlocked during Sunday of Act 3

Kay bad ending 2: on branch 2 of Kay's route, have the nosey trait OR select to "search a bit more" when prompted

Kay bad ending 3: on branch 2 of Kay's route, have a dagger heart next to Kay's name

Kay bad ending 4: on branch 2 of Kay's route, choose "leave now" when prompted

Full Walkthrough - Common Route

Speak your mind

Steam achievement granted when meeting Shannon: "Best Friends Forever"

Talk to her anyway

Ignore him and say nothing

Sit across the room

Search your father's name

Read the obituary as well

Steam achievement granted when finishing on your laptop: "Finding Answers"

I guess that wouldn't be so bad

Don't ask her

Nice to meet you

Steam achievement granted when meeting Kay: "Mr. Sunshine Smile"

This is a bit too much to take in

No

3 updates will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner, check all of them

Knock first

Say you don't care

ask all the questions available

Pull away

Have a quick nap first

Steam achievement granted shortly after choice: "Nightmare or Daymare"

Tell Kay about it

You can

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner, check it

Wait for him to speak

Admit that's the reason

Sure

CREATE SAVE POINT 1

Go back home

Steam achievement granted shortly after choice: "Can you hear me!?"

RELOAD SAVE POINT 1 after getting the achievement

Go look at clothes

I'll try some things on too

CREATE SAVE POINT 2

The black and white one

You look great

RELOAD SAVE POINT 2

The pink and blue star print one

You look great

RELOAD SAVE POINT 2

The aqua blue one

You look great

No

Ask if you can draw Kay

Talk about something else

It would have been bad either way

Don't disturb them

1 new update will appear in the bottom right corner phone at night time after a scene transition, click it for a bonus CG

Search anyway

Try turning it back on

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner, check it

Steam achievement granted shortly after viewing phone update: "Project NMCI"

Yes

Yes

Kay

The panacea

No

Superpowers

...a good power to have

I won't do it again

I hope you open up to me more

Your father

Where have you been?

Your father

Not really

Jasper

Sure, let's go

Sit down beside him

Nice outfit

Steam achievement granted when meeting Natalia: "Fancy Outfit, Odd Demeanor"

The smoothie bar is nearby

Something simple/classic

You can come tonight if you want

Suggest joining StarxSocial

Yes

Kay

Scream

Who are you chatting with?

Talk about Kay

Yes

What was that post all about?

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner, check it

Tell me more about his powers

Am I going to survive this...?

Shannon will worry if I'm late...

Tell Shannon about Kay going missing

Why would I tell you that?

Steam achievement granted when meeting Clive: "Suspicious Werirdo"

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner at night in your bedroom, check it

Steam achievement granted when meeting Jasper: "Knife-Wielding Antagonist"

type in the name "Ceaton"

Steam achievement granted when you type in the name Ceaton: "That's Your Name, Right?"

Reach out to the hand

Steam achievement granted when you grab the hand on the first choice: "Trust in the Hand"

I don't trust him enough to tell him

You can come again

Select the orange/red fragments

Steam achievement granted when you select the fragments: "Fantasy Select"

Fantasy Intro / Act Zero

CREATE SAVE POINT 3

I don't think so

Tell him about the dream with Kay

Don't text her

I'm going to stay inside

I am scared, to be honest

Ask her about it some more

an eye symbol will appear at the bottom right of your screen, click it to read Lana's heart

I'm sorry for my outburst last time...

Touch his arm

I promise

Well...

Mention Kay going missing

Refuse to be friends with him

I don't trust him

Pancakes are great!

I don't want to talk about it

Walk in silence with him

an eye symbol will appear at the bottom right of your screen, click it to read Clive's heart

I need to keep an eye on him

when the beach search screen appears, find the orange feather in the water towards the center left of the screen

I'm happy

Kay Act One

So... what shells did you find?

Fine, I admit defeat

I should plan my next move

I need to look eventually!

Don't set it up for him

Cream and sugar

I'm not sure

I really miss him

Make something up

I prefer you don't pry anymore

I need to save Kay!

an eye symbol will appear at the bottom right of your screen, click it to read Jasper's heart

Investigate

Find the letter on top of the cliffs, close to the center of the screen

Climb anyway

I dunno...

Don't give up

I still want him back!

Kay Act Two

We are friends

Maybe a little... (for romantic ending) OR Quit teasing me (for platonic)

We'll just say we're friends

I'll get a sleeping bag for you

Whisper that he'll be okay

Ask Kay if it's okay

I'll help him interact with others

Go somewhere with Kay

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner in the kitchen during breakfast, check it

CREATE SAVE POINT 4

Jam

RELOAD SAVE POINT 4 AFTER GETTING THE BONUS CG WITH JAM IN IT

Syrup

Don't offer

I liked your smile

Yours makes me feel different

Tuck him into bed

Wake him

I promise

I do

Hold onto his hands (boosts romance) OR emphasize that he's safe (for platonic ending)

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner while in the living room prior to texting Shannon and/or calling your father, check it

Don't text her

...

It's rough

No

CREATE SAVE POINT 5

The Pirathon nature trail

I'm trying my best

Romance (boosts romance) OR happiness (for platonic ending)

Their music helped me through a lot

I wish I could show it to Kay

Cheer

That is a reason

I don't think of it that way

Grab his hand (romantic) OR reassure him (platonic)

They're not you

Run away

Steam achievement granted when you choose 'go back to him' or if you have high enough romantic points: "I Believe In Him"

Leave

Kay Act Three

Jasper is your past

...raised to hate me

No

...he's kind of cute (romantic) OR he's a good person (platonic)

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner when you get the Kay chibi CG, check it

You were pretty close

Say you aren't sure

I like short people (note: option boosts romance. If you want the achievement but want to ensure you get a platonic ending, create a save point here and then reload to choose the other option)

Steam achievement granted when you choose 'I like short people': "Short = Cute"

Go check on him

Stay back

Don't beat yourself up about it

I am afraid

Hand them to Kay

Ask Kay if he wants to tell her

You ARE Kay

Steam achievement granted if you selected all the choices above so far: "Come To Terms With It"

Why would you want me to do that?

I don't mind

Tell him what he wants to know

Kay End Branch 1

Hold him close (romantic) OR continue holding his hand (platonic)

I don't mind (romantic) OR either other option (platonic) (note: choice only occurs if you have at least a yellow heart with Kay at this point)

Ask him again if he has a preference

I want to see you (romantic) OR Yes, definitely (platonic)

I feel that way too (romantic) OR I care about you, as a friend (platonic)

Steam achievement granted for reaching Branch 1 ending: "The Sun Will Rise"

RELOAD SAVE POINT 3

Fantasy Intro - Guide to Branch 2

Maybe we can hang out

Tell him about the dream with Kay

Text her

let's meet up soon

I guess I'll go sit outside for a bit

I am scared, to be honest

Leave the subject alone

I'm sorry for my outburst last time...

Touch his arm

I promise

I definitely don't regret it!

Mention Kay going missing

Give him the benefit of the doubt

I do prefer waffles, actually

Yes... I want to talk about it

Ask about his interests

Maybe I should give it a try someday

find the feather in the water near the center left of the screen

I'm happy

Kay Act One

So... what shells did you find?

Fine, I admit defeat

I should get some rest

I need to look eventually

Don't set it up

Tea

I'm not sure

I really miss him

Make something up

It's alright

I need to save Kay!

Rest for a while

Sure

I still want him back!

Kay Act Two

We are friends

Maybe a little...

We'll pretend to be dating

Steam achievement granted when you choose 'pretend to be dating': "Fake Date"

You can sleep in the bed

CREATE SAVE POINT 6

Whisper that he'll be okay

Ask Kay if it's okay

I'll help him interact with others

Spend the day together at home

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner in the kitchen during breakfast, check it

CREATE SAVE POINT 7

Jam

RELOAD SAVE POINT 7 AFTER GETTING THE BONUS CG WITH JAM IN IT

Syrup

Of course you can

I liked your goofiness

You will

Because I trust in you

I like having you around

Let him sleep on your shoulder

Wake him

I do

Hold onto his hands

Send a message to Shannon

I'm safe

It's rough

Yes

The Pirathon nature trail

I'm trying my best

Romance

Their music helped me through a lot

Maybe I'll redraw it someday

Cheer

You're right, it is

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner soon after the concert, check it

I don't think of it that way

Grab his hand

They're not you

You don't mean that

Tell the truth

Stay

Lay beside him

Kay Act Three

Jasper is your past

...raised to hate me

Yes

...he's kind of cute

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner while you speak with Gray in the kitchen, check it

It's okay

Agree with Lana

Approach him

Hold onto his arm

I felt afraid

Hand them to Kay

Ask Kay if he wants to tell her

That's for you to decide

You'd be happy I'm having nightmares?

Kay End Branch 2

You don't need to prove it

I don't see it that way

CREATE SAVE POINT 8

Go back upstairs

CREATE SAVE POINT 9

Search for Kay

I will be

Hand him the phone

Steam achievement granted if you have been consistently checking the phone for updates: "Kay Fan"

I'll go with you

1 update will show up on your phone in the bottom right corner while at Shannon's party, check it

Steam achievement granted for reaching Branch 2 ending: "Brighter Days"

Bad Ending #1

RELOAD SAVE POINT 5

The Pirathon Beach

Steam achievement granted for reaching bad ending: "Goodbye, my friend"

Bad Ending #2

RELOAD SAVE POINT 8

Search a bit more

Steam achievement granted for reaching bad ending: "The demon's lover"

Bad Ending #3

RELOAD SAVE POINT 9

Leave now

Steam achievement granted for reaching bad ending: "Death By Blonde"

Bad Ending #4

Note: There is an achievement in this ending that can only be achieved by having a low relationship with your father. If you've followed this guide so far, you should have the right stats to get this achievement.

RELOAD SAVE POINT 6

Let him sleep

Tell Lana

I want to keep him close

Spend the day at home together

Syrup

Of course you can

I liked your smile

You two aren't anything alike

I want to look out for you

Let him sleep on your shoulder

Let him rest a bit more

I do

Hold onto his hands

Send a message to Shannon

I'm safe

It's not that I need a break

Yes

The Pirathon nature trail

You're right

Romance

I had a crush on the lead singer

Maybe I'll redraw it someday

Stay quiet

It's not because of him

You aren't difficult

Say nothing

They are you

Run away

Lie to him

Stay

Lay beside him

Jasper doesn't exist anymore

... a hateful person

Steam achievement granted for having a low bond with your father: "He's Not Important :)"

Yes

... he's kind of cute

It's okay

Say you aren't sure

I have a preference for tall people

Approach him

Stop in front of him

I'll stay

Don't

You're not Kay

You'd be happy I'm having nightmares?

Just stay by my side

Any reason to get better counts

Go back upstairs

[hellpotter]

Hello! How about 48 or 51 from the prompt list of you want to 💛

i might have slept with your robe while you were gone | percabeth (I guess?)

Annabeth hadn’t expected she’d become so attached to Sally. Sure, she’d always liked her a lot, but after Percy had disappeared, they’d grown closer and closer together. Now, she was like an older sister or a mother or... Annabeth didn’t know well how to put it in words. She just knew Sally was now someone necessary for her sanity to be kept. She was sure she wouldn’t be dealing with Percy’s disappearance if it wasn’t for her. She knew she wouldn’t have the strength to carry on. She just knew they helped each other survive, and that was enough.

That’s why, the day after she met her mother on the subway, she just knew maybe seeing Sally would help her feel better.

It had been a crappy week. It had been some crappy weeks, actually. But now, with that burning drachma on her pocket and that whole bunch of nonsense about revenge and the Mark of Athena in her head... It was just too much. She felt like crying and screaming and punching someone all at once. She needed comfort. She needed Percy.

So, she didn’t think much about it before showing up at Sally Jackson’s apartment. She didn’t think about the abnormal number of monsters she’d found and fought on her way there, or the bruises they’d left her with. She didn’t register the environment around her before walking in and hugging her, and then being led to a comfortable sit at her couch. She wasn’t surprised when she found herself crying and trembling and holding a cup of tea while spilling out her feelings.

They talked about what happened. They tried to figure it out. They talked about Percy. They cried and they held each other together. And soon (or maybe long hours after) Annabeth felt like there were no more tears inside her to be shed. She felt cleaner and less overwhelmed, but at the same time, she felt strengthless, like all the energy she had in her body had been drained. So she just sat there and stared at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly, which made Sally raise her eyebrows.

“What for?”

“I- For everything. For not being able to keep him safe. For not keeping it together. For showing up like that without notice,” she stared at the window and watched the sun go down, unable to look inside Sally’s red eyes.

“Hey,” a hand on her shoulder made Annabeth reestablish eye contact. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about. None of that is your fault. And I don’t mind you showing up. You’re not alone, and you being here reminds me that I’m not, either.”

She could only nod and pull her into a hug that she wasn’t sure how long lasted.

“I hope we can find him,” she whispered.

“We will,” Sally muttered back. “We have to believe it.”

When they broke apart, Sally looked at the clock and got up suddenly. “Oh gods,” she looked down at Annabeth, apologetically. “Honey, I have to go. I promised Paul I would go to the grocery store before picking him up at school, so I really have to leave now.”

Annabeth started to get up, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder again. “Why don’t you stay here?”

“What?”

Sally bit her lip. “Stay for dinner, at least. You can wait here and we can all have dinner together when I’m back with Paul. I’ll make some pasta or we can order pizza. We can drive you back if it’s too late.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but she suddenly felt the urge for some traditional family time, and shook her head. “Okay. That sounds good.”

When Sally smiled to her, she thought maybe it was the first time she’d seen it in a long, long time. “Good. And Annabeth, maybe you can take a shower and try to calm down while I’m out, honey. I think it’ll make you feel better.”

“Oh. I don’t-“

“I’ve got some clothes on the bathroom cabinet, you can borrow them.”

“O-okay.”

It wasn’t long before Sally left and Annabeth caught herself sitting there staring at the sky again, loosing herself in the burning feeling of the silver drachma near her skin. Then she took a moment to feel the pain on her body and noticed the dirt and bruises she’d been left with, from her short travel to the apartment. So she decided a shower might not be a bad idea, after all.

The hot water helped comfort her, and even though she had to keep the same underwear, the feeling of clean clothes on her body made her feel her head clearer, her thoughts and feelings lighter, somehow. Still, the cotton shorts and shirt she’d found on the cabinet made her feel chilly, so she grabbed a light robe that she saw hanging behind the door.

She was on her way back to the couch when she passed through the door to Percy’s room, that was slightly open. She stopped, considering. And then took a deep breath before walking in.

Everything inside screamed Percy Jackson. The poorly done bed, the dark blue sheets and the posters and drawings on the walls. The opened bag with school books left hanging on the wall and the old skateboard leaning besides the wardrobe.

It all brought back to her the memory of him, the way his hair was never properly on place and he didn’t seem to mind. The way his eyes lightened up when he talked about something he liked and darkened whenever he was worried or they were in danger... Whenever he looked at her hoping he hadn’t said or done anything wrong.

Also, the smell. Somehow, the place still smelled salty, like the ocean was just around the corner.

Finally, the photographs. The picture of him besides his mom in Montauk when he was a kid. The one were he and Grover stood on the strawberry fields, and the one where he and Tyson held their skateboards, arms around each other, childish grins on their 13-years-old faces. And then... The one where he had his arms around her, wrapping her in a hug from behind, huge smiles on their faces as they looked to the camera in Central Park.

She could almost feel his arms on her body, the safeness in it. Like he had vanished just two seconds ago, instead of days and weeks and... Like he was just behind the door, in the hallway, and could walk a few steps and wrap her in that homey hug again.

And then she was crying again, and wrapping her own arms around her and laying on his bed because she couldn’t trust her legs to keep her standing. And then her eyes were just too tired and her mind was just too much and her heart was just too heavy for her to be awake for a minute more.

***

She woke up at the sound of Sally coming home with Paul.

“We’re back!”

By the time she reached Percy’s room, Annabeth had already gotten up, but she was sure her face and clothes basically had written all over them that she’d been napping.

Sally stopped at the doorway and turned on the lights.

“Annabeth?”

“Gods- Sally, I’m sorry, I,” she looked at the ground. “I might have slept with your robe while you were gone.”

She was sure her face was as red as Apollo’s sacred cows.

Sally’s mouth turned slightly up into a side smile. “It’s alright, honey.”

They stood in silence for a while, Annabeth facing the ground until she found the courage to look Sally in the eyes and was surprised by how welcoming and warm they still were.

“Why don’t you sleep here tonight? You can stay in Percy’s room. Maybe it’s better if you’re not alone tonight.”

Annabeth nodded affirmatively.

“Okay, then. You can grab some of his clothes if you want, too. If it’ll keep you warmer.”

“Okay.”

“Well, c’mon then. I could use some help in the kitchen.”

She turned to leave, but Annabeth finally found her voice. “Sally?”

She stopped and turned back to her, with questioning eyes.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“We’re family, honey. That’s what we do. We stick together.”

Annabeth was glad she didn’t find it hard to trust her.

[frogsmulder]

Maybe There’s Hope: chpt 2 Like They Used to

Starting from the final events of 09x20 The Truth,  Mulder and Scully tackle their new reality as fugitives. When they  finally settle into things, Scully finds out she is pregnant again. A canon divergent AU where I thought, what if Scully got pregnant whilst on the run instead of at the end of season 11?

2.5k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic; read on ao3

Scully woke up first and smiled despite herself. The warmth of the sun streaming through the window made her skin tingle, washing her of the pain the previous night. Eyes still closed, she hummed, rubbing small circles through the fine hair on Mulder's forearm. She must have turned over in the night, her back now nestled into his chest and his arm wrapped around her, cocooning her in his warmth. His breathing was still low and deep from sleep. She leaned into the rise and fall of his chest, his strength gentle like the lap of the sea at the sand. She imagined the steady beat of his heart like the sweep of a lighthouse in the dark, the guiding metronome she followed. If it wasn't for the fact they had fallen asleep in yesterday's clothes atop of a motel bed, Scully could have kept playing pretend like it was two years ago on one of their lazy Saturday mornings they had made a habit of. If she didn't open her eyes, maybe she could stay in that fantasy a little longer: she would kick Mulder out of his bed to make a pot of coffee whilst she snuggled deeper into the sheets. He'd come back with two steaming mugs and they'd sit together reading (she, her book and him, another X File). She'd enjoy teasing him, telling him that the weekend was for relaxing and not for work.

 "I am relaxing!"

 "No, you're not."

 "Yes, I am."

 "Prove it."

 "Does Agent Dana Katherine Scully always need proof for anything I do?"

 "I'm still waiting."

And then he would tickle her legs under the covers with his feet, almost making her spill her drink. Or he would kiss her just to prove a point. Or both.

Scully bit her lip to stifle a laugh at the memories. Opening her eyes, she let reality flood in. It wasn't two years ago, back when things seemed simpler, but it did feel like a Saturday morning– it might well have been, she had already lost track of the days. She turned awkwardly in Mulder's arms, one of them still a dead weight over her, and traced his laugh lines with her eyes. In the brightness of the morning, she could see the bags under his eyes weren't so heavy. He looked rested and happy, the natural curve of his mouth pulling upwards into a soft smile. She cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek with her thumb, feeling the rough grain of his five o'clock shadow. When he didn't stir, she placed kisses to his stubbled jawline, waking him up the way she used to on a Saturday.

With his eyes closed, Mulder mumbled in his deep, sleepy baritone, "Hello."

"Hi," she whispered back.

He opened his eyes to see her face waiting, almost expectantly, mere inches from his. "Do you want me to make the coffee?"

She smirked, wriggling closer. "I want you in bed with me."

"We might have to actually get in it then."

Scully frowned, displeased with the idea of moving. Mulder laughed at her tiny pout and smoothed her wrinkled forehead under his thumb. Lifting her by the elbow, he prompted her to get up so they could pull the cover back and climb in.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Hmm. You?"

"Yes." He tucked an imaginary stray hair behind her ear, finding any excuse to touch her. She held his hand in place by her cheek, making sure he wouldn't let go, and sighed, his larger hand holding her, comforting her, protecting her. A grin too wide for his own good appeared across his face when he understood her meaning. Scully rolled her eyes and kissed the silly grin from him.

It was a sweet kiss that steadily grew into something more. Mulder leisurely explored the taste of her lips and she opened up to the feeling, tasting his tongue playfully in return. When he moaned, she giggled, pressing their foreheads together and licking her lips. Her tongue had subconsciously traveled her lower lip, savouring the warmth he had left there, but seeing his gaze fixed to her mouth, she took her lip between her teeth just for show.

"You're such a tease," he chuckled.

"And you're not?" Scully looked into his hazel eyes, the familiar feeling of being lost in them, inching up her spine.

Mulder kissed her in reply: a full, heated kiss that put to rest any questions about who was the tease.

Scully combed her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing them closer with her leg hooked over his hip. She would have giggled again at the roughness of his jeans against her smooth skin– a reminder of their strange situation– but she felt too good to stop kissing. He was awakening parts of her that she hadn't known in years; fuzzy warmth tingling through all of them to the tips of her fingers and toes. When he slipped the gown from her shoulders, his fingertips lightly tickling her skin, she didn't complain.

Mulder stopped to look at her: red, plush lips, misty blue eyes, hair somehow still immaculate. He felt his heart clench with that indescribable feeling. Returning his palm to her cheek, he tried to touch the sensation, make it tangible, and better comprehend it. Scully nuzzled into him and he realised that he would never understand how he was worthy of such love, especially the highest pedigree that was Scully's love. He was just grateful to know it.

He trailed his fingers over her shoulder, drawing patterns between the dusting of her freckles. Her pale skin glowed in the morning light; her hair caught like a halo of fire too. Resting his hands at the knot of her tie, Mulder cautiously looked up, asking silent permission to undress her completely. With a small simper, Scully nodded slowly. He pulled the robe from her and threw it haphazardly to the corner of the room.

"That's not even the corner with the chair in," she laughed.

"I know."

Scully kicked the covers down and Mulder nudged her onto her back, kissing his way down her neck. He pressed his lips to every inch of her skin, licking and nibbling until she was squirming and giggling. He was methodical, remembering all the points that made her moan and all the places that made her gasp like their relationship was still green. It was about the only thing he did methodically.

Upon reaching her breasts, he sat up and sighed, holding both of them in his hands. Gently palming them, he watched Scully bite her lip in anticipation and her nipples harden further as he swiped his thumbs across them. Leaning down, he pushed them together, first drawing his nose up the valley and then his tongue, blowing cool air on her wet skin afterwards.

Scully involuntarily arched her back when she felt his mouth swirl around one nipple. And then the other. Bolts of lightning shot to her core, warming her in that way that left a delicious, hazy ache in its wake. Eyes closed, she bit back a whimper, smiling, having missed the feeling for so long.

A different kind of ache began to settle in her breast and she tugged Mulder up, smirking at his glistening lips, to distract herself. His eyes, though dark, grew soft with concern.

"I need you up here with me," she answered.

"Of course," he smiled, crawling back up to her.

She pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it perfectly into the chair. He stopped and laughed, shaking his head. His breath hitched when her hand palmed him through his pants. She wasted no time, deftly undoing them and pulling them down his thighs. He helped her the rest of the way and chucked them in a pile on top of his t-shirt.

"One-all," he grinned. "Looks like we drew."

She cupped his face– "We'll have to find a way to settle the score then." and kissed him, giving him as good as he gave.

Mulder shuffled awkwardly and Scully broke away, raising an eyebrow. He held up his boxers and waved them like a victory flag.

"Da-nah!" He scrunched them up and flung them to the chair with the others. "Two-one: I guess, I win."

"As referee, I disqualify that one."

"You're just a sore loser."

"I'm just trying to level the playing field."

"Do I still get to play?"

"Mhmm." She claimed his lips, burning with need, and let her hands wander the expanse of his back.

He rolled them over, so he was gazing up at Scully in all her beauty, her now longer hair cascading around her face, framing her features in fiery ribbons. He liked it longer, it reminded him of when she had first introduced herself to him. He had been so naive then to think she was on anybody's side but his. And she was still with him even now.

Yet she hesitated. The smile falling from her eyes was replaced with something unreadable that scared him.

"Scully?"

"Please... Please could you be on top?" she asked.

"Yeah." He let her climb off and lie down next to him, seeing her visibly relax as she laid her head down beside his, a meek smile at the corners of her mouth. He brushed her hair behind her ear again, repeating the soothing motion. "Okay?"

"Yeah, I just..." Being in charge of the situation, she felt that other ache deepen into something akin to dread. She couldn't place it and didn't know how to begin describing it to him as much as she wanted to. "... Don't want to be on top," she concluded.

"We don't have to–"

"No, it's not that." She shook her head and simpered, playing with his thatch of chest hair. Sighing, she ran her hands down further and told him a half-truth to ease his worry. "I'd rather feel you closer to me."

Mulder groaned when she held him and began running her fist up and down his shaft. She chuckled at how quickly she could elicit a response from him.

"Still want to play?" she asked.

"If you do."

Mulder waited for her to nod before moving ontop, cupping her face as she guided him home. He watched Scully bite her lip as he pushed in slowly, taking the time to savour every moment of her expression. She looked up at him with clear crystal eyes and he felt that tether between them strengthen.

"Hello," she whispered, pushing his hair up off his face. She kissed him, reveling in the searing heat they created between their bodies.

"Hi," he chuckled. "Okay?"

"Yeah."

He pushed languidly in and out of her, finding an easy rhythm like the gentle strength of the tide. They made love lazily, playfully– like they used to on their Saturday mornings– until the waves crested and crashed and he felt her shudder beneath him. He followed her, tumbling off the cliff, buried in her scent, her heat, her hair, her being.

Scully still clutching at his back, pressed his weight into her chest, fingernails digging in slightly. She was panting beneath him, so Mulder moved to give her some room to breathe, but she pulled him closer.

"Stay," she huskily implored him.

"I'm crushing you, Scully."

"Mhmm," she agreed, smiling shyly, distracting herself.

Mulder kissed her temple and nuzzled deeper into the swathes of her hair splayed across the pillow; the smell of her– them– as addictive as it had ever been. They stayed curled tightly around one another for a while until Scully softened her grip and let him go to the bathroom. He returned a few moments later with a warm washcloth and handed it to her. Enamoured, he watched her clean between her thighs, thinking it might be his favourite part of Saturday mornings. A close second then.

"I was gonna jump in the shower now; you wanna join me?"

She looked up and handed him the cloth back. "No, that's okay. You go ahead."

She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, lips pressed into a thin smile that he assumed was meant to reassure him, but the detached look in her eye only made him anxious. Dejected that she didn't want his company, that she felt she couldn't share her trouble with him, Mulder nodded and went into the ensuite alone.

Scully sighed after he closed the door, cursing the heavy weight in her chest. It was like God couldn't let her have one moment of happiness without somehow tainting it, reminding her that her current situation wasn't happy, making her feel guilty if she found a small quantum pocket of joy. One arm wrapped around her naked waist, the other fiddling with her pendant, she huffed, pushing down the feelings, disregarding them as immature. She padded barefoot over to the chair, picking up her discarded robe on the way. She folded each garment neatly, placing them on the arm, apart from his t-shirt, which she wore. Clutching the collar to her nose, she inhaled the distinct smell of Mulder and sleep, dragging her back into that dream of lazy Saturday mornings. Whilst she was waiting, she made the bed: plumped up the pillows, straightened out and tucked in the comforter, even though she knew the sheets needed changing. It was just something to do to keep her occupied– she feared those emotions would rise to the surface given half a chance.

With nothing left to do, Scully found her thoughts scarily empty, instead only a feeling a magnetism drawing her towards the bathroom. Before she knew it, she had already turned the handle of the door and found herself sitting on the edge of the tub, watching Mulder run soap through his hair. She couldn't tell if it was the steam that was soothing, or if just being in Mulder's presence calmed her, but when he grinned upon seeing her, she smiled too.

He saw she was wearing his t-shirt that was ten sizes too big for her, the hem reaching halfway down her thighs. He hummed appreciatively. "I see my shirts have got joint custody again."

A simper played across her lips, but she ignored the comment. "We need to get some clothes, even if it's one set that we wash and wear alternatingly."

"I don't mind having only one shirt if it always smells of you." His voice was plain and candid and Scully couldn't tell if he was being serious, though he probably was.

"Practically speaking, Mulder, you would."

He shrugged. "I'm sure I could live with the burden."

He emptied an entire one of the travel bottles of shower gel into his palm and struggled to keep a hold of it all.

"Jesus, Mulder!" Scully laughed. "You don't need that much."

"You gonna help me with it then?" he cheekily grinned.

Mocking reluctance, Scully undressed and joined him under the shower spray.

[clumsyclifford]

I think u said that you’d still like some more prompts, so #89 “I noticed” with either muke or malum pls ♥️

well i asked pairing bot and it said muke, so there you go. thank you @allsassnoclass for helping me Establish The Setting of this fic. by which i mean Providing The Setting For Me. a gift to us all, that hazel

also as resident walking advertisement for @calumsclifford‘s fics i am contractually obliged to redirect you to her bookstore fic which is an absolute delight

read on ao3

-

Nothing hits quite like the atmosphere of a bookstore.

Shelves of books, racks of vinyls, displays advertising “Staff Picks” — the allure of the local bookstore will never not work magic on Luke. Even the pop music trickling down from the built-in ceiling speakers is charming, rather than annoying.

“Okay, go find your book,” Ashton says. “I’m gonna go in the nonfiction section if you need me.”

“Sure thing, old man,” Luke says. 

Ashton scoffs. “I like nonfiction. If that makes me an old man, then so be it.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.”

“You are judging so hard, and I don’t even care. I’m going to go browse autobiographies and I’m going to fucking like it.” With this final word, Ashton marches in the direction of the nonfiction books. Luke watches him, smirking, until he vanishes into the shelves, and then he makes for the young adult section on the other side of the shop. If this book is going to be anywhere, it’ll be there.

As always, he’s immediately drawn off-course.

The staff picks catch his eye. Normally Luke breezes past them, but this time he spies a cover he actually recognises: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, a book he’d read only a few months ago. As his gaze shifts lower, it catches on the note underneath the book, identifying the name of the staff member whose recommendation he’s enjoying: Michael. Next to his name is a short note about his choice. Luke steps closer to read it.

Philosophy and boys in love. And a general distaste for wearing shoes. What else do you need?

Luke smiles and reaches for the book. He’s already read it and he has a copy at home; he’s not going to buy the copy, but it’s nice to hold it in his hands anyway, flip through the pages and feel the air shift as he does.

“Good choice,” says an unfamiliar voice. Luke lifts his head and almost drops the book.

Woah. Cute boy alert. Extremely cute boy red alert. The levels of cute on this boy are enough to make Luke want to call Ashton over for backup. He’s terrible with cute boys, especially cute boys that also look really cool like this one, with bright red hair and a pierced eyebrow and a Nirvana t-shirt. Add that to the fact that he evidently has some degree of good taste in literature, considering he’s just complimented Luke’s selection, and Luke is flailing out of his depth.

In the deeply awkward pause before Luke remembers he’s supposed to say something to Cute Boy, his gaze travels to the nametag pinned to Cute Boy’s shirt. MICHAEL, it announces in block letters, and Luke puts two and two together.

“Oh, you too,” Luke says, which is a surprisingly coherent thing to say. All things considered it could have gone a lot worse. Which it then proceeds to do. “You’re the Michael who picked this? I guess? You — your nametag says Michael, so— I was just assuming. Which I know you’re not supposed to do because it makes an ass out of you and me, but since you said it was a good choice…”

Michael slowly smiles. “Yeah, I’m the Michael. You are?”

An easy question. Thank fuck. “Luke. I’m Luke.”

Michael hums and nods at the book. “Have you read it?”

Luke tries to take a discreet deep breath. “Yeah, I did. A few months ago. I might be due for a reread.”

“Well, it’s one of my favourites,” Michael comments. “So I’ll always be on the side of an Ari and Dante reread.”

“Yeah,” Luke says, nodding like this makes perfect sense. It does, but God, he doesn’t have to nod like a crazy person. “Yeah. Good point.” Then, directly contradicting this concurrence, he sets the book back down on the display. “I’ve got this at home, though. I’m actually here for a different book.”

“Oh, perfect,” says Michael, straightening up. “Then I can do my real job. What can I help you find?”

Luke does not need help finding this book, but he would be a complete idiot to refuse the help of Cute Bookstore Employee Michael. “Uh, The Cursed Child. I know it came out a while ago but I just haven’t had the chance to get it and I really wanted to get it from a bookstore, rather than online, you know?”

Michael brightens. “Oh, I can definitely find that for you. Follow.” He gestures, and Luke falls into step with him as they make for the young adult shelves, completing Luke’s aborted mission from earlier. “You want my opinion on the book, or you want it to remain a complete mystery?”

“You’ve read it? Are you a Harry Potter fan?” Luke asks, far too eagerly. Sheepish, he bites his lip, sneaking a glance at Michael to see him smile. “Uh, sorry. I’m— I really like Harry Potter, like, a lot.”

“I noticed,” Michael says, nodding at Luke, who glances down at himself. 

“Oh,” he says, chuckling at his Deathly Hallows shirt. “I honestly didn’t do that on purpose. I wasn’t thinking about it at all.”

“Your subconscious enabling your love of Harry Potter, clearly,” Michael says. “Yeah, I like it. Not my favourite series, but it’s good. I mostly only read Cursed Child because I was bored, but—” He breaks off. “Sorry. Won’t spoil it.”

Luke grapples with himself. On the one hand, he is the most averse to spoilers of anyone he’s ever met. If it’s a book he’s looking forward to reading, he will ban all family and friends from even discussing it in his presence, lest their opinions on it taint his before he’s able to read it and draw his own conclusions. And this isn’t just any book; it’s Cursed Child, the long-awaited spin-off, the first official continuation of the Harry Potter ‘verse in years. No, he doesn’t want Michael’s opinion on it. He doesn’t want anyone’s opinions. He hasn’t even read the summary for the book on Goodreads. The more blind Luke goes into this, the better.

On the other hand, though.

Well, on the other hand, Michael is a cute boy who’s offering to talk to Luke about a book.

As a compromise, Luke says, “Honestly, I would really like to know your thoughts, but not until I’ve finished reading it.”

Michael glances over at him as they slow to a stop in front of one of the shelves. There’s a smile playing at his lips, a slight raise to his eyebrows, like he’s pleasantly surprised by something Luke’s done. What that thing might be, Luke has no idea. “Okay,” says Michael. “That’s fair. How about I give you my number, and when you finish reading it you can call or text and we can discuss it then?”

Luke blinks. Then blinks again. Is Michael flirting with him? He must be, but at the same time there’s absolutely no way.

And — wait. Does Michael think Luke was flirting with him? Was Luke? Not intentionally, but that’s only because he doesn’t know how to flirt and he’s fucking awful at it. Somehow, he’s managed to unintentionally flirt his way into getting Michael’s number.

Woah. Bookstores really are magical.

“Yeah, yes, that sounds great,” Luke says, clumsily digging out his phone. He unlocks it and passes it to Michael, who has an amused look on his face. “We could, um…get coffee or something?”

“Works for me,” Michael says. While he enters his number into Luke’s phone, Luke turns to the shelf. His attention immediately snags on his target: a block of bright yellow covers. Luke tugs at one, freeing it from its siblings, and brushes a reverent hand over the brand new dust jacket. 

“I mean, say what you will, but it sure is a pretty fucking book,” he says, kind of to himself.

Michael chuckles. “Yeah. The second-prettiest thing in this bookstore, maybe.”

For the second time, Luke almost drops the book in his hands. Instead he tightens his grip on it, looks up at Michael, and steels all his courage to say, “First being you, right?”

The smile on Michael’s face is worth the risk of embarrassment, Luke quickly realises. And this, he senses, had clearly been the right thing to say. Michael hands Luke’s phone back to him an says, “I’m going to let you have the last word, because I think you’re cute and that was unexpectedly smooth. If you need me, I’ll be around, probably doing work that will be less important than anything you will have to say to me.”

Luke feels a blush colour his cheeks, but if Michael notices he doesn’t say anything. With a wave and what looks like a halfway bow, he backs out of the aisle, and Luke watches him until he veers off and disappears from view.

Everything from entering this bookstore onward feels like a fever dream. Luke glances down at his phone screen, and when he sees how Michael’s entered his name — Michael (The Real Cursed Child) — the giggle of disbelief building in his throat quickly turns to a laugh. If it is a fever dream, Luke hopes it never, ever ends.

[lbigreyhound13]

I’m Sorry, Draw My...What?

By @lbigreyhound13 for @spooderboyandtincan

Rating: K+

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & May Parker, Peter Parker & May Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter, Tony, May, and Helen Cho

Summary: While Peter is on his way home from patrol, May and Tony talk about Peter's health and wonder if it's possible for him to get sick. There seems to be one option: take him to Dr. Cho and get a blood test. Only one problem...Peter is a bit squeamish.

AO3 LINK HERE

Prompt: Blood Draw

I’m Sorry, Draw My…What?

“Hi Mr. Stark, hi, May, on my way back from patrol! Bit of a graze on my shoulder from robbers…but I’m okay!”

“Okay, kid, thanks for giving your aunt and me a heart attack. Hurry back so we can stitch you up! If it’s bad, we’ll bring you to the tower.”

“Sounds good, Mr. Stark! See you in a bit!”

“I swear to God, he is going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Tony said as he turned to look at May on the couch.

May couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, at least, he was honest,” she said with a smile. “You think we’ll have to bring him to the Tower?”

“Well, he’s not asking me to come get him,” Tony said thoughtfully, “so it’s probably just a simple stitch.”

After Tony had Peter stay over for the weekend before Thanksgiving a few months ago, Tony made it mandatory that anytime Peter got injured in the field, he was to call for back-up or to come to him and May immediately. Tonight was easier because May had invited Tony to come over for dinner, so he could come back to the apartment where both Tony and May could stitch him up. May was a nurse, so it was easy to talk about stitching up Peter’s wounds if for some reason Tony wasn’t around.

“So, listen, I wanted to ask you something,” May said as she angled herself on the couch so that she was facing Tony.

“What’s up?” Tony said as he took one last look at his phone to make sure Peter was in fact on his way back from patrol.

May couldn’t help but smile at that. When Peter had first started interning for Tony…way before she found out he was actually Spider-Man…and that the billionaire knew the whole time, she thought that Tony was overworking Peter…putting so much pressure on him as he quit most of his clubs, especially the Decathlon Team, and at first, she wasn’t a huge fun. Now, however, seeing how much Tony actually liked having her nephew around…how they were becoming very close, she could see that it was the best thing for both of them. Tony was able to help Peter in ways she couldn’t…he was the male figure Peter needed, especially when he no longer had his father or her husband, and Peter seemed to brighten things up for Tony after what he went through during the debacle with the Accords…what the media called “the Civil War” with the Avengers.

“Well, given Peter’s spider powers…and his enhanced…I guess…senses and metabolism,” May began, “I was wondering if…there was a chance of him…getting sick.”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows together as he realized that he hadn’t thought of that before. A spider bit Peter about 6 months before they had met for the first time, and he had not seen the kid show any signs of getting sick. Injured, yes, but not sick, which begged May’s question. Could Peter get sick even with his abilities, especially with the fast healing?

“He hasn’t gotten sick after the spider bite?” Tony asked.

“Not since the day it happened,” May replied. “I don’t know if he’s ever told you, but…the day he was bitten, he came home and was extremely sick. He had a high fever, and he threw up—it was awful. Ben and I couldn’t get him a doctor’s appointment until the next day, but when we went in to get him the next morning, he was perfectly fine…almost as if he hadn’t been sick at all.”

“That could’ve been his body reacting to the bite…trying to adjust to…the changes,” Tony replied as he let May’s words sink in. “And he hasn’t been sick since then?”

“No, but I don’t know, I can’t help but wonder with it being flu season,” May said, “and…the school has been asking me for Peter’s updated immunization records. I…don’t want to risk anyone finding out about his secret, Tony.”

“Say no more, May,” Tony said quickly. “Dr. Helen Cho is our doctor, and she’s met Peter a few times. I have her and her team at the Compound. She can be Peter’s physician.”

“Really?” May asked eagerly. “Does she…does she know?”

“She does,” Tony said quickly, “and I can get her and the team to sign NDAs. They are completely trustworthy.”

“Okay,” May said, “well, I trust you to keep my baby safe, so, let’s do it. Umm…there’s actually something else that I wanted to ask you.”

“And that would be…”

“Since Peter…has these abilities,” May said, “I’ve…kind of noticed that he didn’t respond to medication well…like Tylenol or Advil. He would take the regular amount, but…it doesn’t seem to work on him as it would on you and me.”

“Well, that’s beauty of working with Dr. Cho,” Tony said. “She could take a sample of Peter’s blood and his DNA to come up with some medication for him and maybe even vaccines so that we can be prepared if he ever gets sick.”

“Thank you so much, Tony,” May said gripping Tony’s shoulder.

“Anytime, May,” Tony replied. “I can talk to Cho this week, and take Peter up to the Compound this Friday.”

“Well, if that’s what you want, then I’d better come.”

“Not that I don’t want you to, but…why?”

“Peter…gets a little nervous about blood tests and needles…”

“Oh…”

(line break)

“Do we really have to do this?” Peter asked with his face in his hands.  

Needless to say, when Tony and May told Peter what the plan was after he came home from patrol a few nights ago, he was…not that excited. He wasn’t angry. He knew he needed medication and vaccines that would meet his enhanced powers and abilities, especially if he were to ever get sick. Plus, going to a regular doctor would be impossible to do so without blowing his secret. This was the best option, and he knew it. He trusted Tony and May with his life, and they had the best intentions. However, that didn’t mean he wanted to go through with it. It was bad enough having to fast for the blood test when he had an enhanced metabolism, but the thought of Dr. Cho sticking a needle in his arm to draw blood made him squirm.

“For the millionth time, kid, yes, we do,” Tony said with a light chuckle as he patted Peter on the back. “Come on, you’ve met with Dr. Cho before. You like her.”

“Yeah, when she’s not sticking a needle in my veins…” Peter retorted as he lifted his face from his hands to look at Tony.

“Honey, I know you’re nervous,” May added gently from where she sat in the corner, “but we need to do this. You don’t react to medications the same way anymore, and we need to make sure we have something in case you get sick.”

“And for your vaccines and all that,” Tony added as he sat next to Peter on the table.

“I know, I know,” Peter groaned, “but I hate needles…and blood tests. Just the sight of…” Peter shuddered.

“I know, bud, I get it,” Tony said wrapping an arm around his intern holding him close to his side. “Remember the one time I tried to insert the sensors into my arm to call the suit to me…after New York…that was not easy. I still get squeamish sometimes.”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know I was really hoping that being bitten by that spider would be the end of doctor visits unless I was seriously injured.”

Tony and May couldn’t help but laugh at Peter’s comment.

“I hate to break it to you, tough guy,” May said leaning forward in her chair, “but you’re enhanced…not God…or a god…in Thor’s case.”

“Technically, a demigod,” Tony added quickly, “but valid all the same.”

Peter looked at his mentor and then at his aunt before finally sighing as he rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. “I’m really not getting out of this, am I?” he asked aloud.

“Nope,” Tony and May said in unison.

(line break)

“Okay, are we ready?” Dr. Cho asked as she wrapped the tourniquet around Peter’s arm and searched the crease of his arm for a vein.

“Not really,” Peter said nervously eying the tourniquet on his arm like it was about to eat him alive.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Dr. Cho said with a small smile on her face. “It will just be a pinch, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Peter muttered to himself as Dr. Cho poked and prodded his arm to find the vein. He could see the needle on the stand next to her, and it was all he could focus on. He mentally kicked himself for acting like this. He was Spider-Man, and he went up against the Vulture and Captain America. Why was he so nervous whenever it came to needles and blood drawing? He could handle scary movies with Ned, so why was he being so difficult now?

“Kid, it’s okay to be a little nervous of needles,” Tony said to him somehow reading his thoughts. “No one enjoys this. It’s practically a requirement of being a human being.”

“Then why do we do it?” Peter asked as he watched Dr. Cho like a hawk as she finally found a vein under his skin and pressed her thumb before wiping the area on his skin with rubbing alcohol.

“Why don’t we talk about something else?” May quickly asked looking toward Tony.

“Yes, why don’t we talk about something else?” Tony said quickly agreeing with May. This was a part of their back-up plan if Peter still showed that that he was nervous. “How was school today? You didn’t really answer me when I picked you and May up.”

“Oh?” Peter said looking at Tony remembering that his mentor was right. He was so preoccupied with the impending blood test that he didn’t answer when Tony asked him about school. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It…was good! Ned spent most of the day talking to me about this new Star Wars Lego set that he hopes to buy with his birthday money, but—I don’t know—I was thinking about getting it for him instead. I think that would be an amazing gift, but I have to think about it. Oh, and my History teacher is going to have us do a project soon. I think it’s some kind of research project on—I think it’s going to be on more World History, and I mean, it’s fine. I’m just more into U.S. history, but that could be just me. Anyway, chemistry went well, too! I started thinking of some more ideas for my webshooters, and I thought maybe we can look at them at our next lab time.”

“Sure, we can do that, Peter,” Tony said as he listened to Peter’s monologue trying to take in every single word the kid was telling him with a smile on his face. He never got tired of taking or listening to Peter whenever he started rambling. It broke up the silence and lightened things up, as Peter always tended to do whenever he was around Tony, but it seems that now it was Tony’s turn to do just that. He looked down and noticed Dr. Cho pulling out the tube after the blood flowed through, and looked at Peter, who clearly didn’t notice. “Hey, Pete, guess what.”

“What?” the teenager asked.

“Dr. Cho is done,” the billionaire simply said.

“Huh?” Peter asked furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion. He looked and saw the doctor putting a cotton swab on his arm clearly to stop the bleeding.

“All finished,” Dr. Cho said with a smile as she gestured to the small tube on the table next to her.

“What?” Peter asked. “Are you sure? I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Exactly,” May said with a smirk. “Tony distracted you by getting you to talk.”

“And you forgot all about it, right?” Tony added. “Kid, we know you too well. Once you start talking, you tend to have tunnel vision, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

Peter ducked his head and blushed a shade of pink on his cheeks. He knew May knew about his nervousness around needles, but the fact that his mentor just learned about it and still tried to keep him from getting nervous just as his aunt did was amazing. It seemed like every day was just another reminder as to how lucky he was.

He smiled and looked at Tony. “Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he said.

“You’re welcome, kid,” Tony said with a smile of his own.

[bloodfromthethorn]

Passing Out

When Matty calls you to the War Room, you don't stop to tell her that you're feeling a little rough. Even if you definitely, definitely should.

Part eight of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3. 

..

If she was telling the truth, Riley hadn’t really been feeling up to a mission when they got called in. She’d woken up with a niggling headache and even two cups of coffee hadn’t been enough to properly offset the drowsiness clinging about her shoulders. Worse, all of her joints were aching quietly, like she’d somehow managed to sleep in the most uncomfortable position known to man and was now paying the price for it, despite the fact that she’d slept solidly through the night undisturbed.

Regardless, when Matty sent a message telling her to get to the War Room, she hauled ass with everyone else and didn’t even think to utter a complaint. It wasn’t until she was boarding the jet and found herself staring up at the overhead luggage rack, wishing her bag could magically lift itself up there, that she suddenly realised this was almost certainly a bad idea.

It was probably just a cold or something, she told herself, perhaps a little fatigue build-up from too many missions in the last month – nothing serious. Nothing worth bothering the others over and certainly not something she should use as an excuse to get out of going to Peru with everyone else. Besides, for the plan to work they needed her. She couldn’t let them down.

“Hey, earth to Ri,” Jack called, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder and making her jump. He instantly withdrew, holding the hand up in surrender. “Hey, woah, you alright?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said, trying to patch over her flinch with a sheepish smile. “Daydreaming, I guess. Sorry.”

Apparently her act wasn’t convincing enough. Jack squinted at her with one of those intense looks he always got when he knew something was up and he was trying to pinpoint exactly what it was. He was always scarily good at doing it, too.

“You sure you’re alright? You’re looking kinda pale.”

“Wow, thanks,” she muttered sarcastically, snatching at her suitcase as a distraction.

Jack’s hands darted out to take it from her instead, hefting it onto the rack as though it weighed nothing at all, despite the fact there were two back-up rigs in there with enough spare parts between them to build a whole other laptop if she needed. Even though she was vaguely annoyed by his hovering, she couldn’t help but be grateful he’d saved her the task. Her shoulders really were bothering her.

“I don’t mean nothing by it, you know that,” he said dismissively once the bag was settled. “I’m just worried about you. You’d tell me if something was going on, right?”

Sudden, sharp guilt bubbled up in the pit of her stomach as she forced herself to smirk. “Are you always such a worrier?”

“With you and Mac around? Hell yeah! Someone’s got to keep you kids from running into traffic.”

“Oh my god Jack, that was one time,” Mac put in loudly from the other end of the plane. “You’ve got to let it go.”

Jack’s attention was immediately diverted, and Riley had to stop herself from letting out a relieved breath. Trust Mac to come through for her when he didn’t even know he was doing it.

With Jack busy delivering a put-upon rant to a mostly bemused Mac, she was free to settle herself in her usual seat and get her laptop set up in front of her. She couldn’t do a lot to cover it if she really was pale, but at least with her rig she had a solid cover for sitting quietly and minding her own business – it was her usual go-to strategy for getting through long flights. Besides, she’d planned to go over their game plan again anyway.

Of course, she then immediately encountered another issue: what had been a mild headache in the back of her skull pulsed sharply the second she looked at her screen, the light burning her eyes. She squinted, wincing, but it did little to help. The pain was still bearable, but she had an instinctive feeling that if she had to keep looking at the screen for a lot longer, it was going to get worse. It was one thing to go into a mission feeling a little run down, but actively letting herself deteriorate on an infil flight was something else altogether. Putting her laptop away might raise questions, but she wasn’t stupid enough to run the risk of letting the others walk into danger when she might not be ready to back them up.

She shut her laptop with a decisive click.

Behind it, two feet away on the other side of the small table, Bozer was staring at her like she was the mystery at the heart of the universe.

“What?”

He raised an eyebrow, and said nothing.

“What?”

Still, nothing.

“Boze, I swear-”

“You know,” he interrupted like she hadn’t even been speaking, “It’s okay to say you’re not up for this if you’re feeling down.”

If she’d been smart about it, she wouldn’t have reacted; as it was, she couldn’t stop herself from shooting an alarmed look in Jack’s direction to make sure he was still too busy hassling Mac to be listening in. From the knowing look in Boze’s eyes, he’d definitely caught the slip.

“Like I told Jack, I’m perfectly fine,” she hissed, wishing that she actually felt it. The scrutiny only seemed to be making her feel worse – there was a warm blush rising on her skin that she wanted to write off as embarrassment, but likely had more to do with how overly-warm she was starting to get.

“And he didn’t believe you. Neither do I.”

“Boze, it’s going to be a long flight. Just leave me alone?”

He leaned back in his chair, visibly weighing up whether she trying to divert his attention or if she was genuinely frustrated at the pestering. In truth it was a little of both – she knew that she wasn’t in top form and it was a really bad idea to not at least let the others know that, but at the same time, she was sure that she had to do this. Her job in Peru would mostly be sitting around on her laptop and provided her headache didn’t get worse, she was perfectly capable of that. If she told Jack that she wasn’t feeling up to par then she wouldn’t entirely put it past him to get Matty to turn the plane around.

“Look,” she said, keeping her voice low to keep from drawing Jack’s attention, “I’m a bit tired, that’s all. I’m in for this mission one hundred percent. I was just hoping to get some shut eye on the way over there to be in the best shape I can be. Please, please just let this go.”

For once, Bozer’s expression was entirely serious as he took her in. After a long, tense moment he nodded. “Okay. I trust you. Just- let us know if anything gets worse, alright? I know Jack can be- well, Jack, but we’re all on your side here.”

Without waiting for her to formulate some sort of response to that – and god knows what that would even look like – he jumped out of his chair with an energy she wished she had and wandered over to insert himself in Mac and Jack’s conversation. A few minutes later, when she’d closed her eyes and leaned her chair back to try to get the sleep she’d asked for, she heard Jack muttering a quick aside to Bozer:

“Hey, is she doing okay?”

Riley tensed for a heartbeat, but it turned out she should have had more faith in her friend. “Yeah, she’s fine. Just catching up on a bit of sleep before we land. Can we do anything about getting Matty to stop calling us in at six in the morning?”

There was a quiet round of laughter, the comment launching Mac into a series of tales about the ridiculousness of their working hours when they were on rotation. That Jack didn’t join in immediately was telling, but he didn’t contradict what Boze had said and no one came to disturb her so he must have bought it at least a little.

Fortunately, Riley didn’t have long to ponder it. By the time they cleared California airspace, she was already asleep.

..

The mission was mostly a bust, in that their primary target had managed to flee the country before they’d even touched down, but there was still important information to ferret out. Fortunately, with the main head honcho gone, the rest of his men didn’t put up much of a fight and between them, Mac and Jack were able to get what they needed and get out without a single scratch between them. Bozer and Riley, confined to backup and technical support respectively, got to spend most of their time hiding out in a dingy hotel room with absolutely nothing exciting going on.

For perhaps the first time since joining the Phoenix, Riley was endlessly grateful for that. She’d hoped the sleep on the plane would help her get over whatever it was going on with her, but if anything it seemed to have made things worse. Her headache had increased ten-fold, to the point that even thinking about looking at her laptop made her feel distantly nauseous, and a sore throat had crept in to join the stuffy nose and creaking joints. She’d managed to explain away her persistent flush by citing Peru’s summer sunshine, but she knew that wasn’t the truth and from the sideways glances Bozer had been throwing her, he knew it too. Fortunately he’d been smart enough not to mention it on comms, or she might just have hit him.

Exhausted and feeling worse with every passing minute, she didn’t think she’d ever been more relieved when she and Bozer stepped out of their cab onto the airstrip. Mac and Jack were standing around by the steps to the jet, waiting for them.

“There you are,” Jack called when they were within earshot. “What kept you?”

“The hotel was on the other side of the city, Jack,” Bozer reminded him, clapping a hand to Mac’s shoulder in greeting. “Some of us had further to go.”

“Sure, sure. It wasn’t that you were leaving us to do all the work or anything.” Jack jostled his shoulder against Bozer’s, apparently thrilled that their mission had gone so utterly without note.

Beside them, Riley was staring at the stairs of the jet wondering just how exactly she was going to haul herself up them. Her skin felt too hot and the car journey over here had ratcheted up her nausea to the point she was reflexively swallowing every few seconds. Her vision was spinning idly too, which was doing absolutely nothing to help with the dizzy spells she’d been fighting off since they’d left the hotel.

Someone called her name, or perhaps something like it, but it sounded much further away than she’d expected. Had the others gone on without her? She turned her head to look, but as soon as she did, what little vision she was still clinging to whirled away in a cloud of black. She had a heartbeat to ponder that undesirable state of affairs, then the heat surged and her legs turned to water.

She was unconscious before she even started to fall.

..

She woke to find herself stretched out on the jet’s couch, her head pillowed on something soft that she rapidly identified as someone’s lap. A warm, familiar hand was stroking her hair. She remembered, distantly, waking in this exact position a thousand years ago when she was still young and naïve and trusting – and just like then, a tiny piece of her mind wished fiercely that she’d never have to leave it.

“Jack?” She asked quietly, her voice rasping faintly.

“There you are,” he responded, equally softly. He sounded watery with relief, but the hand didn’t stop its gentle path through her curls. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re okay. We’re heading home and you’re safe and sound, I promise.”

Inexplicably, she felt a sudden urge to weep. Here she was, cradled and cared for, and she hadn’t even had the decency to tell him that she’d been feeling ill. She didn’t deserve his comfort. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey now, none of that.” A second hand brushed soothingly up and down her arm. “Everything’s okay. You’re going to be just fine. You just rest up – we’ll be home before you know it.”

“Should have told you,” she said miserably, too cowardly to even open her eyes as she said it. She didn’t want to bear his frustration when she already felt so thoroughly awful and worn out.

“It’s okay, darling, don’t you worry about that right now. I’m not mad. You hearing me? I’m not angry or upset, I just want you to be alright. So quit worrying about any of that and get some more rest if you can. There’s a med team waiting for us in LA to look you over, but they think you’ve probably caught the flu. All you’ve gotta do right now is relax, okay?”

“Flu?” That couldn’t be right, could it? She’d been feeling off, sure, but it really hadn’t been that bad. If she’d thought it was anything serious, she would have said something.

“You spiked a fever,” he explained with what could only have been intentional calm. “You’re going to be feeling pretty rough for a few days, but you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling small. She thought she should be relieved at his lack of anger, but somehow it just made her feel worse. Like she knew she hadn’t earned his forgiveness, and he was insisting on giving it anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“I told you Ri, you don’t need to be. I’m not mad. You just focus on getting better and I’ll be right as rain.”

He sounded genuine and this time she couldn’t help it; a few tears slipped out from under closed eyelids to wet the fabric under her cheek. It did nothing to make her feel less infantile, but her body was aching and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and she felt utterly powerless to fix any of those problems. Childishly, she just wanted Jack to make her feel better.

“Hey, shh,” he soothed lowly. “It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

The string of comforting platitudes continued, not really saying anything but acting as a constant reminder that she was not alone while she struggled desperately to reassert control over her emotions. It was harder than it should have been, with fatigue and malaise fighting her every step of the way, but she did eventually get the tears under control. The same instant that she did, exhaustion was right there waiting for her.

“That’s it,” Jack murmured, “You get some rest. We’ll be right here if you need us.”

Comforted despite herself and more weary than she could ever remember being, Riley took him at his word. She burrowed herself down a little, relishing the feel of fingers lightly brushing against her scalp and sighed.

This time, when sleep rose to meet her, she was waiting to greet it like an old friend.