#from the sound of it he had to teach everyone to cook and feed themselves

[redbean-nom]

love that nobody can function without echo in the empire era. the batch keeps losing the ship, barely manage to finish their missions, and entirely forgo strategy. and then on the other hand, rex pre-echo-joining-the-rebellion was living in an abandoned garage with one singular tiny ship. then shortly after echo joins they have a whole base with like twenty troopers and real doors and actual food and a ship actually designed for long distance travel.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. This is a rough translation.

The morning after Galileo and I went stargazing一

Mitsuki: "Morning, Drake. I'm preparing breakfast right now, so please wait a moment."

Drake: "Thanks, little fawn."

After exchanging greetings and continuing cooking, Drake shifted his gaze to my arm.

Drake: "Looks like your injury has completely healed."

Mitsuki: "Yeah, thanks to everyone's help. And thanks for your concern, Drake."

Drake: "Me 'too,' huh?"

After mumbling that, he suddenly stared at me.

Mitsuki: "Is something wrong?"

Drake: "Nah. Did something good happen, little fawn?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Drake: "You seem to be in a good mood. You're pretty expressive, you know."

Mitsuki: "R-Really? There's nothing special, though."

Drake: "Hmm? Well, whatever. I'll go feed Draco and Sidereus."

With a smile, Drake left the room.

(I seemed cheerful? Was my expression really that relaxed?)

I told him earlier that nothing was up, but I could think of one possible reason.

(I saw Galileo's smile for the first time.)

My heart fluttered again, recalling his breathtaking smile from last night.

(If someone who's always been so curt suddenly smiles like that, it's only natural to feel happy, right? Yeah.)

Muttering excuses in my mind, I returned my focus to making breakfast.

Later, after visiting the university with Galileo, I sneaked out of the lecture hall while he was teaching and headed to the library to find out more about him.

(I want to know more about him and his past.)

With that in mind, I searched for history books and biographies, flipping through pages like unraveling a mystery.

Galileo Galilei.

A historical figure who contributed not only to astronomy but also to geometry, mathematics, and physics and was even called the Father of Modern Science.

However, what was recorded in the books was not just his achievements.

Galileo advocated the 'heliocentric theory,' stating that the Earth revolves around the Sun.

However, this theory contradicted the geocentric view held by the Church.

He was then subjected to an inquisition by the church and found guilty.

After spending some time holed up in the library and borrowing a few books, I stepped outside to find a blue sky stretching out before me.

It was almost too bright for me, so I shielded my eyes with my hand and reflected on what I'd read earlier.

(Galileo was subjected to an inquisition.)

I heard that term when I was at the mansion because Jean had also been subjected to a trial.

According to the books, Galileo was considered a heretic.

(Speaking out in favor of the heliocentric theory was a grave matter back then.)

His fervor for seeking the truth seemed to have clashed with the norms of that era.

(But nowadays, heliocentrism is taught as common knowledge.)

(His claims have been scientifically proven to be correct.)

(Did the charges against him get overturned? But all I had read was that he was found guilty.)

I decided that when I got back, I would go over the books again more carefully.

???: "Mitsuki?"

(Huh?)

I turned around at the sound of my name and saw Napoleon and Sebastian standing side by side.

Mitsuki: "Napoleon, Sebastian! It's been a while. What are you both doing here?"

Napoleon: "That's our line. Weren't you supposed to take care of your acquaintance?"

Mitsuki: "Um, actually, he's working here at the university, and I came here to assist him."

I quickly tried to make up some excuse.

Sebastian: "I see. I'm here to deliver lunch to Isaac."

Napoleon: "And I was asked by the vigilantes to teach swordsmanship in the university square."

Mitsuki: "Vigilantes?"

Sebastian: "They're young people who admire Napoleon and have voluntarily formed themselves to help the citizens."

Sebastian: "Recently, they've been patrolling the streets, helping people, and resolving disputes."

Mitsuki: "Wow! It's all thanks to your influence, right? That's impressive."

Sebastian proudly nodded as I exclaimed, and Napoleon let out a wry smile.

Napoleon: "I'm just lending a hand. The impressive ones are those kids themselves."

Napoleon: "Paris in this era isn't entirely peaceful either. There are clashes between the wealthy and the poor due to the wealth gap."

Napoleon: "And I heard there's been another bizarre death in the slums."

(Slums...)

I suddenly remembered something I’d heard at the mansion before.

(That incident still hasn’t been resolved.)

Whether it was the work of vampires or not, it was still a creepy incident.

(Why does it always happen in the slums?)

As that question arose, the image of a boy with curly golden hair and blue eyes suddenly came to mind.

(That child also seemed to be living in poverty.)

(If he’s frequenting the slums, I hope he doesn’t get involved.)

(Come to think of it, I don’t even know his name.)

(Next time I see that child, I’ll try asking.)

Napoleon: “Sorry. It’s been a while since we saw each other, and I’m bringing up dark topics. Hm?”

Napoleon saw the book I was holding and tilted his head.

Napoleon: “Are you researching Galileo Galilei?”

Mitsuki: “Ah, yeah. A bit.”

Sebastian, with a gleam in his eye, looked surprisingly excited.

Sebastian: “He’s one of the most renowned figures. In terms of global recognition, he might even rival Napoleon.”

Sebastian: “But it’s unusual for you to show interest in a specific historical figure. Was there any particular reason?”

Mitsuki: “Well, my acquaintance is knowledgeable about astronomy, so I got interested.”

Mitsuki: “I only know bits and pieces of history, so I thought I’d take the time to delve into it properly.”

Mitsuki: "I want to know the truth about what kind of person he was and how he lived."

Sebastian: "The truth, huh? So this is your first step in exploring history."

While keeping Galileo's identity hidden, both Sebastian and Napoleon flashed confident smiles.

Napoleon: "Heh. If that's the case, you could have just asked me."

Mitsuki: "What do you mean?"

Napoleon: "I mean, you do know I'm a bit of a bookworm, right?"

Napoleon: "I've been reading Galileo's works for a long time and supported his modern way of thinking."

Napoleon: "In simple terms, I guess you could call me a fan."

Mitsuki: "Really? You're a fan?"

(Even the emperor Napoleon supported him.)

(He truly is an incredible man.)

Sebastian: "It's nice to hear you tell those stories yourself!"

Napoleon: "I may not be as knowledgeable as Sebas, though."

Napoleon: "So, what do you want to know? I think I can answer most questions."

Encouraged by Napoleon, I pondered for a moment.

Mitsuki: "Then, do you know about the Inquisition?"

I asked, and Napoleon furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

Napoleon: "Yeah, I know about it."

Napoleon: "Back when I was still a soldier, I had doubts about Galileo's heresy trial, so I collected trial records."

Mitsuki: "You were that dedicated. Galileo was found guilty in the trial, right?"

Napoleon: "Yeah. It was because Galileo's heliocentric theory contradicted the teachings of the Church."

Napoleon: "But there are rumors that there were other reasons as well."

Mitsuki: "Huh? Other reasons?"

Napoleon: "Being involved in power struggles or some other motives. I'm not sure."

If it were true that he was found guilty for reasons beyond the truth, then the trial was far from just.

Napoleon: "After being found guilty in the trial, Galileo was forced to renounce his heliocentric theory."

Napoleon: "Some people said that he muttered the words 'and yet it moves' during that time."

(He said those words in such a situation.)

I had always thought he said those words upon discovering the truth, but in reality, he uttered them while being cornered to the point of having to abandon the truth.

I wonder how much bitterness was contained within those words.

Mitsuki: "What happened to Galileo afterward?"

Napoleon: "According to records, he was sentenced to life imprisonment and spent the rest of his life under house arrest."

(Life imprisonment?)

A fool was sentenced to life imprisonment for seeking the truth.

(That was definitely about Galileo himself.)

Mitsuki: "But regardless of the reasons, the heliocentric theory is true, right? Wasn't the trial revoked?"

Sebastian was the one who answered that question.

Sebastian: "Historically, Mr. Isaac's achievements provided a theoretical framework that supported and proved the heliocentric model."

Sebastian: "However, it wasn't until the 20th century that Galileo's trial began to be reassessed."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Sebastian: "Galileo was officially declared innocent 350 years after his presumed death."

(350 years...)

I was stunned by the sheer length of time.

Until very recently, Galileo was still considered a criminal.

Napoleon: "I see. In the era you two came from, Galileo was declared innocent."

Napoleon: "He never said anything wrong from the beginning; he kept insisting on the truth all along."

Napoleon: "Being branded a heretic for 350 years is indeed quite long."

Napoleon muttered with a hint of pity in his voice.

(I didn't know Galileo had such a past.)

(I said those things without knowing anything.)

------------Flashback-----------

Mitsuki: "Even someone like me, who isn't very knowledgeable about history, knows how famous he is."

Galileo: ".........."

Mitsuki: "He's the historical figure who advocated for the heliocentric theory and left the words 'And yet it moves'."

Galileo: "And I have a warning for you."

Galileo: "Don't ever mention that man in front of me again."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Despite not knowing about the suffering throughout Galileo's life, I spoke insensitively about him as a remarkable person who left behind great achievements.

In my era, they taught the heliocentric theory as a matter of course, but behind that, people have long undermined Galileo’s dignity.

It was only natural for Galileo to resent a world that turned away from the truth and kept denying him.

Moreover, witnessing the persecution of the dhampirs may have ignited anger in him.

(He might have considered ending the world, fueled by anger, hatred, and sorrow, but...)

The phrase “a fool who pursued the truth ended up with a life sentence” stuck in my mind.

(Galileo is someone who pursues the truth with his own eyes.)

He couldn't bring himself to abandon the truth until the end, saying, 'And yet it moves.'

(For him, the truth shouldn't be foolish.)

(Yet why did he deny himself?)

As various thoughts whirled around in my head, I lifted my gaze.

Mitsuki: "Thank you for explaining in detail. Napoleon, Sebastian."

Mitsuki: "Sorry, but I have to go now. I'm glad I could see you guys after so long."

Napoleon: "Yeah. Hang in there until things settle down on your end."

Sebastian: "Please visit us occasionally as well."

Smiling as I bid farewell to the two, I entered the school building, tightly holding onto the book in my hand.

(I want to know about Galileo.)

(I want to see what he's trying to do, observe him from the sidelines, and get closer to him.)

(But to understand him, I'll have to confront his feelings that aren't recorded in books.)

(I have no choice but to face it on my own.)

Seeking the invisible truth, I looked ahead.

As dusk approached, Galileo, having finished his lecture, returned to his office.

Galileo: "Were you reading a book again today?"

Mitsuki: "Yes."

Galileo: "What is it?"

Mitsuki: "Can I talk to you before we leave?"

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[unohanadaydreams]

Polyandrous, sexy, hot relationship between fem reader and Shinji, Rose and Kensei😈😈😈🔥🔥🔥 (sorry, I had a typo in the previous ask😓🤭🙃😄)

Oh my god. Like, imagine being the filling between three captains….real hot girl shit.

Features: Smut, a lil angst, and me bending my back to make these three bang reader and each other.

this is fantasy not a how-to guide on poly relationships thanks.

largely unedited bc its thirst post tower content, and pretty much all consent is implied instead of strictly stated. i checked with all 4 of them though and they told ME it’s consensual. Except Kensei. He told me to fuck off ):

Triple Threat Team-up

(Shinji Hirako x Rose Otoribashi x Kensei Muguruma x F!Reader):

How it seeded:

The relationship started with Rose. He wooed you with his flowery words and romantic fashion, paired well with his cool demeanor. Although some of his ideas on love are dated, he’s not one you could call traditional.

As a group, the vizards have endured much and gained little unless they gave to each other. When Shinji walks in on you and Rose naked, using his shunpo to grab a CD before leaving, you find it odd. Rose does not.

He admits that most of the vizards have been some form of...thing at some time in the past. “You can’t be too shocked,” he says. “It’s hard to stay warm in a warehouse.” The phrasing is odd, letting you know there’s something more he means than winter temperatures.

How it took root:

Shinji is odd too. Casual, yet guarded in a way that becomes awkward should he be forced to relax. There is always a joke or gross face or biting word that keeps him at a distance.

The trick is alcohol, like it is for most people. Rose displays you, a bloom with glistening petals and fragrant scent at every private party he arranges. And eventually, Shinji stops finding reasons to flee, his fingers skimming your petal-soft skin as he kisses Rose.

The two of you lure Shinji in, kissing him softly, feeding him well, and paying him attention when he knocks on the window. Who doesn’t love a stray coaxed into domestication?

Rose speaks like he’s telling a story, his eyes most often on yours, his calloused fingers feeling their way down your body until you have to break the eye contact. You never feel like he’s playing you--using you like one does an instrument--, not at all. If anything, you feel as though he’s teaching you a dance, his steady instruction bringing you to revelation each lesson.

Shinji’s eyes are always, always moving to drink in your body as he moves with you, his mouth just as restless. He can never settle on the perfect position, always toying with having more of his body on yours versus more of your body on display. Each time is a revolving puzzle of moments that end well and make him want to test again.

Together, they are easily overwhelming, even when their focus is on each other. Rose’s proclivity for words gets Shinji’s skin flushed as much as yours. Shinji’s restless approach to sex keeps your eyes excited, the play of their bodies combining with the rise and fall of their voices to make for a thrilling, climactic show.

How it sprouted:

If anyone has taken the repositioning to the Seireitei like a bullet, it’s Kensei. He’s not one for shows of sentimentality, leaving the vizards in the human world be, half to keep from missing them and half to stay sane away from them. And the separation feels cruel, a sloppy sever somewhere inside of him that he refuses to see.

The news of Rose and Shinji sharing you wrinkles his nose at first. Really? Is it some kind of middle finger to the “Man”? Seems ostentatious, how open they are about it, like shoving their tongues down your throat in his personal quarters is acceptable. Sure, he’s cooking with his full, undivided attention on the kitchen, but Kensei still has ears. No way would he purposefully hone in on the wet sounds and mewling of you being pressed in between their bodies in the other room as his sauce breaks.

After a sound lecture, Rose and Shinji seem to get the message. Sort of. The couple nights a week that they insist are Kensei’s turn to cook, a nostalgic bit that squeezes his heart enough to agree to, still happen. But it’s just you and Kensei.

And eventually, Kensei can’t help but ask the questions he wants to know, albeit fueled by visible frustration. It’s aggressive and a bit mocking, how he asks, but you answer freely. Which doesn’t help. Just like waking up wet in the pants and sweaty night after night at the thought of picking you up and fucking you in front of Shinji and Rose to teach them a lesson on home etiquette doesn’t help.

The need and want and well of shitty fucking loneliness comes to a head when Rose and Shinji invite themselves back to dinner one night, Shinji’s hand toying with your thigh as Rose whispers something that glazes your eyes.

One of the pots over boils when Shinji palms between your legs with one hand, his other coaxing a saucer of sake past your lips. Rose is between you and Shinji, his fingers kneading your waists.

That’s it, really. The food getting fucked over by his own inattention. The way your thighs are shaking as your kimono is un-tucked. The far too comfortable looks on Shinij and Rose’s degenerate fucking faces.

He makes what he’s been dreaming about for months into a reality, your squeaking morphing into low moans as he pounds into you, picking you up and away from the other two vizards each time they reach for you. They even beg a little and Kensei ignores their panting, their playing with one another, and pretends he’s teaching them a lesson.

How it blossomed:

Alcohol, food, and sex can’t soothe every tear, but they patch up enough to keep the wheels of your relationship greased. The sober statement that you are all in a relationship with each other does hit one of you with a splitting force at times. It’s not uncommon for someone to pull away, unsure how much their needed, wanted, or meant for such a thing.

But there are always enough hands to come around them, reassuring them back.

Kensei doesn’t lose his prickly sensibilities, almost never letting more than one of you touch him at once. He favors positions where he’s able to stand or kneel above one or two people, close enough be inside someone, but far enough to get away should be too much for him. Kensei is most uncomfortable fucking Rose; the dirty words constantly dripping from Rose’s lips and his eyes so focused on Kensei’s over stimulating. Kensei usually presses a hand over his face, muffling his look and words in one swift move.

He likes everyone having their place, approaching sex with three other people like a scene he’s seen before. Kensei loves attention, too. Rarely, he’ll let that show. Dropping his need to be in charge, he’ll let all three of you treat him to the full weight of your bodies and all that comes with it, usually three hands tugging cum to spill over his stomach as all of your mouths leave dark marks over the span of his body. Usually, he wants someone to drive into or a head to force deeper on his cock.

Rose loves those times the most, where everyone is stripped bare of their baggage, just bodies reaching for one another. Like those concerts where everyone is squished together, all feeling the music separately but together. His enjoyment of having some control is less about the power and more about the flow--it’s easier to make the ending come at just the right time when there isn’t a meaty hand squishing his face into the mattress. Anything that leaves his mouth free pleases him, especially if he’s able to drape himself over or in between bodies, guiding them closer to orgasm with verbal and physical encouragement.

Shinji doesn’t care about the positions or pace or anything outside of him being involved. He’s there and that’s vulnerability in itself. Saying that, the playing that thrills him most is the kind that makes him feel like he’s spilling over from contact alone. His body pressed under yours, his cock sliding at your back as you’re fucked above him. Or someone being hugged to him as he lays on his side, both he and them being fucked closer. His mouth is always happy to be at work, the flat of his tongue flicking his piercing over hot, puffy flesh.

Over all, your sex life probably has a color coated calendar--courtesy of Kensei--and you’re often doing overtime if you’re counting orgasms as work.

[bestiesenpai]

youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we���ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

[twistedtranslations]

Jamil Viper - M-My heart...

You can unlock this story by getting Jamil’s SSR Dorm Uniform

Translation under the cut

Scarabia Dorm - Lounge

Jamil: …Once again, you made a promise without thinking about the consequences.

Kalim: But the principal said he didn't know where to go on a holiday right? Our home country is the best, don't you think? We the Scarabia dorm are representatives and we should show him the charms of the Country of Hot Sands! I'll leave the decorations of the lounge and the cooking to you Jamil. I will make the preparations for the parade!

Scarabia Dorm - Hallway

Jamil: …And for him to tell me that the day before. And he especially invited the principal. If the banquet is half-baked, it will have an influence on our evaluation. For Kalim's, the banquet…and my sake, I'll have to make this banquet a success. Okay. For the decorations. However it wouldn't fit if the decorations were just pretty, they also have to represent the culture of our country. ..All the ideas I have will take a long time. Hm… To have both beauty and culture…beauty and culture…beauty… Ah! I know!! I guess I should hear out "that" person.

Pomefiore Dorm - Lounge

Vil: …So you came to ask me for advice for the design of the party.

Jamil: Yes. A beautiful interior, a beautiful table set and beautiful entertainment… When I thought about "Beauty", your face suddenly appeared in my mind.

Vil: Ah. Is that so.

Jamil: Kalim has prepared traditional fabric from our country to use for decoration. They're the ones I'm carrying now. They're deep red, patterned with large peacocks. I thought that someone with an aesthetic sense as yours would be able to teach me how to use this cloth the best…

Vil: I understand what you want to say. …But surely you don't intend to consult my knowledge free of charge?

Jamil: Haha, I knew he would say that! My preparations are flawless.

Jamil: You don't think that I presumed the charismatic beauty, Vil Schoenheit would cooperate free of charge! I'm not that impolite. In the case you do give me advice, I offer you one roll of this fabric. The textiles made in the Country of Hot Sands are very valuable after all. Moreover, the goods woven by the purveyors of the Asim household aren't even available in the stores…

Vil: I could estimate the value of this cloth by a glance so you don't have to explain. I was searching for a fabric for my new suit, so I shall accept your request.

Jamil: Really? I am so glad!

Vil: Show me the textile.

Vil: …I see. The weaving was done carefully, but the large pattern has a strong impact. Framing it like it is or using it as a rug will certainly give of the "traditional crafts" feeling. If I fiddle with this a bit…

Jamil: I see~ I will study this~

Jamil: And now I just leave everything to Vil. I should just sit back and nod when appropriate…

Vil: Can someone bring me scissors!

Pomefiore Student: Here!

Jamil: Are those sewing scissors? …Wait please, what do you intend to do with those scissors. You're not going to…

Vil: I've already decided. I'm cutting this.

/Snip

Jamil: Aaah!! You cut this super expensive cloth in two!!!!

Vil: I'll cut it more so I can make a long and narrow flag.

/Snip

Jamil: Y-You cut it again! You know one roll of this can feed a 4-person family for one month right!! How wasteful… Hm? No…T-this is…? By cutting in this traditional pattern, you made an innovative design!!

Vil: Yes. If you come out of your comfort zone you will avoid being unfashionable. However, a certain someone who came to me just couldn't stop giving me harmless but pointless compliments…

Jamil: Shit.

Vil: Whatever you do, you should never forget to be bold. Aim to be sensational. There's nothing that I produce that can be considered "inocuous"! Now, I shall have you be brought another scissor and you shall cut this cloth according to my instructions!

Jamil: Y-Yes!

Main Street

Jamil: Sigh. I'm tired… Being unrelenting is a good thing but the way he handles people is way too rough. There were a lot of scraps, so cleaning up took forever. …Oh well, for now the matter of decorations is settled. Next I have to prepare the food for the banquet. It's past 3 pm right now so I should… Wait it's past 3pm!? That's less than 3 hours 'til the banquet!! Because Vil was prattling on, I forgot to keep an eye on the time. I won't make it in time for the banquet! Whatever I do, I won't be able to prepare the food in time. Cooking….Cooking…Aha. This time I shall just ask "that" person!

Chapter 2

Kitchen

Jamil: Kalim suddenly planned to throw a banquet for the principal to introduce him to the Country of Hot Sands… If I want to make this party a success, I'll have to cook something from our hometown… If I was on my own, I wouldn't be able to make it. So I had to call in someone to help me. And if it's about cooking, this person will certainly…

Jamil: Trey. Please take care of me.

Trey: I'll do my very best. Since… in return you would prune all the rose bushes at Heartslabyul, wouldn't you?

Jamil: …Yes. If I can safely make it through the banquet, that is. In terms of labor, I lose. Keep the cool face and look at your feet…

Trey: So, did you decide on a menu?

Jamil: Yes. I intended to set up some bases of the traditional food of the Country of Hot Sands. The main dish will be a goat roast. Usually, you have to let it marinate in spices for three days but… I already seasoned one and put it in the freezer. Today we will use that.

Trey: You're so careful to the point that it looks like you knew about the party beforehand.

Jamil: Kalim loves inviting people over so I prepare stuff every day. I'll put the meat in the oven and have it slowly roast on a low fire. Meanwhile, we can start with the other meals. Seafood sauté, green salad, thin baked bread and dessert… Anyway I'm short of hands. First of all, please peel the potatoes!

/Cooking sounds

Jamil: Okay, now all of the cooking is done.

Trey: All of them smell fantastic… Especially the well-cooked meat looks delicious! …However… by appearance you could say it looks kind of miserable.

Jamil: Huh, do you think so?

Trey: Yeah. There's only light brown on the plate, it's kind of unsatisfactory. I picked roses to put in the jam. If I scatter the petals like this… Look. If I add some red to it, doesn't it look more brilliant?

Jamil: You're right! It gives of a luxurious impression. Sometimes my younger sister tells me that my cooking looks plain by appearance. Back in the days we quarreled about it but… to think it was about the color.

Trey: Haha. There are plenty of people who think that Heartslabyul's sweets are gaudy, so I understand you. The most important thing in cooking is flavor after all. That's why I want to tell you that "Appearance doesn't matter!" but… you went through great troubles to make it delicious. It should be enjoyable from the start to the finish.

Jamil: I'll do my best remembering that. The next time I'll go home, my sister will be in for a surprise.

Trey: Let's decorate the other meals as well. I also have edible flowers that I use for cakes.

Main Street

Jamil: Thank you very much, Trey! …Okay. I managed finish up cooking perfectly. …I wonder how Kalim's preparations for the parade are coming along.

Kalim: It seems the animals have arrived. Let's pick them up at the front gate!

Jamil: Hm? When you speak about the devil you see his tail. I'll watch secretly…

Scarabia Student C: Did you really get lions and elephants? What if they broke loose in the school…

Kalim: Hahaha, it'll be fine! You guys. What do you think is the most important thing  when you communicate with animals?

Jamil: Heh, that's super easy. The answer is "Animal language". With that you can tell the animals which route to take for the parade…

Kalim: The most important thing when you communicate with animals is… PETTING!!!!

Jamil: !!??

Kalim: Everyone is a living being after all, so if you rely on them it will turn out alright. If you want to take a small break, open the cage and deepen your bonds with the animals!

Jamil: …Is he releasing the lions and the elephants without any preparation…? Why…Why are you so incautious when it comes to animals…! Ever since you were little, you tottered over to the likes of tigers and panthers to give them pet food… It's worrisome. No matter how I look at it, it's worrisome. I can't trust Kalim with anything. I shall talk to the animals…!

Scarabia Dorm - Lounge

Kalim: Principal. Please experience the hospitality of the Country of Hot Sand with all your might today. Then let's start this fun banquet!

Jamil: Somehow… we managed to finish up the decorations, cooking and parade on time… I ran more today than I do in a basketball game. I'm completely exhausted…

Kalim: Hey Jamil. Don't you look a little bit tired?

Jamil: THAT MUST BE YOUR IMAGINATION!!!!!

Kalim: Really? Okay.

Crowley: The decorations are wonderful, and the food is absolutely delicious.

Grim: Chomp, chomp. It's so good!

Yuu: Come on, manners! Chomp Chomp.

Kalim: It seems that the principal and the guests are enjoying themselves. Thank you for preparing the decorations and the food. Jamil.

Jamil: …  Don't mention it. But it's too early for you to let your guard down. As the organizer of the event, don't you still have to appear in the finale? Hurry up and get ready.

Kalim: Okay, gotcha!

Jamil: Good grief…

Grim: Jamil!

Jamil: Hm?

Grim: Your cooking, all of it is amazing!!

Jamil: …Yuu, what do you think? Do you like the cooking of the Country of Hot Sands.

Yuu: It's yummy. I want to eat it every day.

Jamil: Heh. I'm glad.

Jamil: Ah, it seems that the parade is starting. Principal, please go out to the balcony and enjoy the welcome parade of the Country of Hot Sands.

Scarabia Student C: U-Uhm! Vice dorm leader Viper!!

Jamil: Hm? Why are you in such a hurry.

Scarabia Student C: That's because… whisper…whisper…

Jamil: … What!?

Crowley: Hm? Is there something, Viper?

Jamil: N-No! There's nothing. I'll just have to leave my seat for a while… please continue enjoying Scarabia's banquet!

Chapter 3

Scarabia Dorm - Hallway

Jamil: KALIM DISAPPEARED!? The animal parade is a tradition of the Country of Hot Sands. The most valuable seven-colored parrot have to fly… And the organizer is supposed to give a grand welcome!

Scarabia Student C: We searched everywhere but we couldn't find him… We can't do the finale of the parade like this.

Scarabia Student D: Wait! Instead of the dorm leader, we should have the vice dorm leader do the greeting.

Jamil: I can't. It would dishonor the organizer…Kalim.

Scarabia Student C: But we can't find him…!

Scarabia Student D: And the parade is still going on… what do we do!

Jamil: …Calm down everyone. Panicking won't help. You guys are the farsighted and deeply designed students of Scarabia, aren't you? When an unexpected situation comes up you should be calm.

Scarabia Student D: …It is as Viper says.

Scarabia Student C: Sorry for getting upset.

Scarabia Student B: Uhm… dorm leader Kalim wanted to me to bring you a message…!

Jamil: …I see. Because of your error, the seven-colored parrot fled. And Kalim went to search for a substitute.

Scarabia Student A: Yes… The dorm leader said that it was fine to start with the parade… Sorry. It's all our fault.

Jamil: Let's leave the investigation of your guilt for later. Let's first think about the problem we have in front of us. According to your story, Kalim has gone to Diasomnia… Even if he flyed on the magical carpet he would take 10 minutes. We have 5 minutes left until the finale of the parade. No matter what we do he won't make it in time. …We have to stretch time until Kalim gets back.

Scarabia Dorm - Lounge

Crowley: Tigers and elephants, lions, monkeys and peacocks… there are plenty of other animals marching lively. I'm so moved that I'm able to watch such a wonderful parade from the dorm's balcony!

Grim: Yes! The parade is going 'til the fountain. The music is getting louder as well…

Yuu: It's time for the finale! Let's get excited together!

Crowley: What kind of surprising show will I be able to witness at last!? …

Grim: …

Yuu: The animals seem to be circling in the same spot?

Crowley: How strange, I wonder if something happened. Can it be… that they ran into some trouble?

Scarabia Student C: The principal is muttering… Is the dorm leader Kalim still not here!?

Scarabia Student D: At this rate, our party we worked hard on will fail…!

???: The Asim household does not fail.

Jamil: …As long as I'm here! I'm on top of the roof… the shadow of the tower is just right. I'll rely on my wind magic to make it flashy!

Crowley: Oho? Something is falling down. The red blizzard making the white Scarabia glow is truly beautiful…

Grim: The way it flutters and sticks to my noise is annoying!

Crowley: Grim, you don't understand. Isn't this a chic show. If it's this, I could watch it forever.

Jamil: The scraps of cloth that Vil cut off and the petals I got from Trey… Who'd have thought they'd play this role. Even I couldn't predict that. Anyway, I managed to stretch the time of the show. Now there's only…

???: Heey!

Jamil: The thing flying over there is…the magic carpet! He has arrived!!

Kalim: Principal! And Yuu and Grim as well, thank you for coming to Scarabia today! I've never been this happy that I could entertain my dearest guests!

Jamil: Sigh… And with this the parade is over without a hitch. I should go back to the lounge. My broom, where is it… And how long is Kalim planning to ride that carpet? I'm getting anxious watching him stand and move around on that carpet…

Kalim: A, Ah I'm losing my balance…aah! I'm falling!!!

Jamil: !!!?? WATCH OUT!!!!!

/Splash

Kalim: …Man I was really surprised. I was careless and fell in the fountain. …Hm? But I'm not hurting anywhere…? …Ah, Jamil! You made me float with wind magic. Thank you. Thanks to you I wasn't hurt.

Jamil: M-My heart…I thought it was about to stop…tch.

Kalim: But I'm completely soaked… How cruel. Hahaha!!

Jamil: You feel like laughing huh. I felt like I was about to pass to the other side! Stop trying to imitate people rashly!!!!!

Kalim: Yeah. …Sorry for making you worry. …Anyways, did you see the finale? I did my best!

Jamil: …Yes, I saw it. Well done. Me.

Crowley: Well, the decorations, the food and the parade made for a wonderful banquet!! It must've been awfully troublesome to plan all of that, no?

Kalim: Nah, absolutely not. Right, Jamil?

Jamil: Yes.

Yuu: Good job! Good job…

Jamil: Today was a harsh day. If I had to plan another party like this…

Kalim: Principal! Disregarding your holidays, you should come again…

Jamil: Kalim!

Kalim: Hmpf.

Jamil: If the principal tells you something again, just say that you'll consider it. No matter what, first consult everything with me. Understood?

Kalim: …Hah. I thought something was up when you suddenly shut my mouth. Okay. I don't really get it, but I get it!

Jamil: You're really such a reliable dorm leader…

[stargazer-balladeer]

🌺🌸🌺

Feeling like a sassy-lassy this evening. So I'm writing for this guy. Wish me luck!

"You what?" A shocked harbinger exclaimed loudly. "I missed you?" A sheepish look on the girls face. Scaramouche dead-pans and continues with "Awwwe, I was almost flattered. No really. How cute." Childe watches the scene unamused. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he walks towards Lily. The redhead taps Lily's shoulder and smiles charmingly at her. " Don't listen to him, Comrade. He's just being annoying as usual. Come hang out with me. I can teach you how to cook piroshki."

Her eyes brightened at Childe's friendly invitation. "Alright. But what is "Porishki?" "I'm glad you asked dear friend. I'm going to teach you all about it." Tartaglia smiles, and gingerly takes the girl's hand about to lead her to the kitchen." Why would she want to do something like that?! Who cares about that? Childe. You're the only one cares, right Lily?" A condescending laughs leaves his diminutive figure.

"Actually, being with Childe sounds fun!" Lily blinks innocently at the salty, short man. Scaramouche grabs Lily's other hand, softly pulling her back to him. "Tartaglia. You may leave. You're not needed. Your ideas bore everyone here." Childe looks back at the both of you, trying to stifle his laughter. Feigning hurt Childe puts a hand over heart and walks away with a drunken sway. " So cruel, Scaramouche. Fine. I'll leave. I need to have a conversation with Zhongli anyway. Play nice Scaramouche."

Scaramouche scuffs. "The hell does that even mean?!-" Lily looks at the purple eyed male with a bored expression. " This better be good. You stopped me from getting tasty food" She sasses. The male stares at Lily and starts to blush. He hides his face under his gigantic hat. He panicked internally, not expecting you to stay with him after he's a jerk. " 'm,sorry.. " "What?! You say something, Scara?!" " I'm sorry. I don't apologize often. Don't get used to it"

He tries to get back into his cool guy persona. Lily giggles at his tsundere behavior and hugs him. " You're forgiven." She sneaks in a smooch to his cheek. This only made Scaramouche freak out even more inside. " Yeah. Whatever." He boops her nose sweetly. " I'll give you a taste of Inazuman cuisine. It'll be much better than whatever that dipstick had in mind." He spits bitterly. " It's not a competition,Scara. Just feed me okay?" "Who said I was going to cook for you?" He says with ingredients in hand,much more than one person can eat themselves. He catches himself blushing again. Knowing his soft spot for you is showing once more. "It's alright. I like you too, ya know?" Lily winks at Scaramouche.

"Stop talking! You're so annoying!" The harbinger complains as he starts to cook up a dish for you both. Lily looks down with sadden eyes. "Okay..." The purple haired man runs to her side with worry in his eyes. " I- I didn't mean to- I'm sorry. You're annoying to me because you make me feel...weak...and warm. I don't mean to hurt your feelings." He embraces you and rubs your back to soothe you. "Damn! You really are weak for her, aren't you?" You both back up from each other and looks around awkwardly. "Hey, this isn't fair. He never shares his food with me." Childe keeps teasing.

Scaramouche's vision glows threateningly! As he tilts his hat over one eye. A battle habit of his." May I have a word with you, Tartaglia?" Lily sighs already feeling the electric in the air figuratively and literally. "Guess I'm going out to eat tonight." She thinks as she gets out of the house before the fight starts.

At least, in a way Scaramouche admitted his feelings. Right?!

[He's hard to write for. He's salty, but I'm sure he's actually kind somewhere in there.]

Scara is really a chaotic tsundere 😗💗

[mickeymouse-moshpit]

street lights, people

A/N: WOO I got it done on time! I’m so excited to share the second installment in my biker!Fennec x pediatrician!reader story. I appreciate how kind everyone has been and I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks again to maybege for letting me tell my story in this universe. I promise that we’ll get more into Fennec’s past and why she does what she does, it just isn’t time yet. 

Rating: T

Warnings: References to child abuse with NO descriptions except that the child was admitted and seen by the trauma surgery service, I don’t think there’s anything else except for some tooth rotting fluff/flirting/smooching. 

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter Two: January 11th

“Would you just text her already? You have her number; I don’t see what the holdup is.” Boba tossed the socket wrench back into the open drawer and closed it. He wiped at the grease on his hands with a blue paper towel. “Besides, you need to take her to a BACA meeting anyway. She hasn’t partnered with us officially and needs to know more if this judge is sticking around.”

“You don’t mean—” Fennec looked up from the email she was writing.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Get your ass up, get your phone, and tell her she should come tonight.”

“But she’s probably going to be too tired.”

“Just. Ask. Her.” He picked her phone up from where she had left it when she set up her work area for the day and held it in front of her face to unlock it. “Or do I need to call her office and pretend to be you?”

She snatched the phone away from him and opened up the conversation with you.  

Got home safe, thank you

Good. Sweet dreams, Doc -fs

Those two messages had haunted her since she sent hers. She wondered if she should have said less, or said hi in the meantime? Either way, she typed out the message.

What are you doing tonight? -fs

She set the phone down, went back to her work.

***

You picked at the sad chicken in your bowl. You really needed to do a better job of anticipating what you would want to eat through the week when you cooked on Sundays. Rolling your eyes at it, you scraped it into the trash can. You were washing the dish and its lid when you felt your phone vibrate for what seemed like the 80th time that day. Sighing, you dried it off and put it in your lunchbox and sat back down at the communal table in the breakroom. It was empty for now, the students and residents off getting work done in the hopes of not staying past sign out. You pulled your phone out and opened up the message without looking at the sender.

What are you doing tonight? -fs

It took you by surprise to be sure. You felt badly about not replying to her since Friday, but if you were honest with yourself, you knew that you hadn’t been ignoring her intentionally. The days had been long as you transitioned to your week covering this service and you barely had time to feed and bathe yourself.

Same thing I always do, try and take over the world.

And by take over the world I mean go to bed

Do you have time to come to a BACA meeting? It starts at 5:30 -fs

You considered for a moment. You had a few more patients to round on, but otherwise your job was done for the day. You looked at the time, 12:30. You could make it.

I can make that happen. Where do you meet?

The reply was almost immediate.

Boba’s Garage. There’s a makeshift conference room. -fs

Sounds good. I’ll see you there.

You walked back into the kitchen area and started a fresh pot of coffee. You wondered what they could possibly want with you; you weren’t a biker. Sure, you were stern when you were advocating for your kids, but you weren’t even close to being on their level. Well, you thought to yourself, at least you can see her in her element this time, learn what they did in more detail.

***

You hurried up the expanse of concrete to the open garage, trying not to fall but also trying not to be late. A last-minute admission had turned your plenty-of-time-to-maybe-shower-and-then-get-there afternoon into a oh-no-I’m-going-to-be-late-and-they’re-going-to-be-mad evening. You saw the open door, heard voices coming from it and hurried to it. You took a deep breath and tried to slink in unnoticed. But of course, it was a conference room. There were people seated all around it, all talking amongst themselves still. Whew.

You saw an empty chair along the wall and sat down, trying to blend in with the wall as best you could. The scrubs you wore were wrinkled and your baby hairs were sticking straight up from the day you had had. You tried to smooth them down as best you could, swearing you would have a wash day tomorrow when you had the afternoon to work from home on things for CPS. You had no idea why Fennec wanted you here, but you hoped your appearance wouldn’t take away from whatever it was.

You sat in silence as you heard her call the meeting to order. Silence fell. She controlled the room. You crossed your legs as you listened to her.

You listened to them discuss financial matters, an upcoming meeting with another chapter. Then the attention turned to the reason the club existed: the kids.

“As you all know, we’ve heard some rumors about certain kids around town. Today I got confirmation that one of them was hospitalized this afternoon.” Fennec went on to describe what the story was without naming names and your eyes went wide as you realized she was talking about the toddler you had admitted this afternoon for the trauma service. How did she know? Your team was diligent about patient privacy and none of them would ever violate that, so how did she know? “…I worked with Peli all afternoon coming up with a plan and we decided that BACA needed to get involved once this little one gets out of the hospital.”

Peli? Social work? You started putting the pieces together. That was how she knew. You listened as they discussed plans for various outcomes: if they went home, if they went to temporary placement, if there would be a hearing before they were discharged. You listened, still not sure what you were doing here but appreciating that you got to hear what they were discussing, got to know what you offered when you gave the contact card disguised as a business card for a medical supply company.

They wrapped up their discussions, started gathering their things and dispersing. You would go to Fennec, but you had no desire to interrupt her in her space. So, you sat and waited as the room started emptying and engines started kicking to life outside.  As the last person left, you stood up carefully.

“You came.”

“Of course I came, I said I would. Sorry I was late.”

“What are you talking about? You weren’t late. And I figured you would be cutting it close when Peli told me you were the one admitting the little one. I know these things take time.” You walked closer to her, perching on the conference room table to her right.

“Uh, thanks. Do you mind if I ask how you know Peli?” She had worked with you since you had started your contract.

“I don’t mind. I’m a social worker there too, I just usually work on the adult side of things. I only started getting introduced to the peds side when I got this gig.” You nodded as she spoke.

“Thank you for inviting me. I appreciate everything you all do, and I can’t tell you what it means to me that I got to learn a little more about what’s behind those cards behind the desk at the office.”

“It was Boba’s idea.” She readjusted the already perfectly stacked papers in front of her. “He threatened to call your office and pretend to be me if I didn’t invite you myself.”

You huffed out a laugh as you bumped your knee against hers.

“Then I’m grateful to the both of you. Thank him for me, would you? I—” Your eyes went wide as your stomach growled and interrupted your thought.”

“Damn, Doc don’t they teach you all to take care of yourselves? Did you eat today?”

“You know, they claim to, but it’s more ‘here’s how you can be more efficient about selfcare so that you can work more and not actually do anything about your quality of life’ and less ‘we genuinely care about you not passing out in a patient’s room or dropping dead of exhaustion.’ I hated what I brought today and had coffee and swore I was going to go to the café to get a snack but that didn’t happen, got too busy.”

She grabbed your hand and gave it a tug to get you to stand up.

“Come on, I’m buying you dinner from this little diner we all go to. You can thank Boba yourself and I can make sure you get a decent meal.”

You nodded, gave her hand a squeeze in thanks.

“Do you want me to drive?”

“Nah, it’s only a couple blocks away and besides, you’re not fit to drive right now.”

You rolled your eyes at that.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“I know you think you are but come with me anyway.”

You nodded and she led you out of the conference room and then the garage out into the cold night air.

“I need to get my coat since we’re walking.” She just nodded and kept your hand in hers until you reached your car. You unlocked in, pulled the door open and grabbed the same wool coat you had been wearing when she rescued you, pulled it on. As you locked up and turned back to her, she took your hand again.

You walked in silence, which gave you plenty of time to sneak glances at her face, illuminated in the orange streetlights as you walked. The glow and the crunch of salt under your feet was hypnotic. As you got to the diner, light snow started again, making you grateful you were at your destination. She opened the door for you and dropped your hand again so you could pull the coat off and hang it up by the door.

“Hey, Fennec! You guys sit wherever you like,” the waitress called from behind the counter. “I’ll be over in just a sec.”

“Come on, you can thank him then we’ll sit as far away from him as we can.” She laughed. You thought you were going to swoon from her laugh.

“Sounds good, lead the way.”

“Boba, this is her.”

You held out your hand and introduced yourself.

“Ah, the famous Doc. We’ve all heard so much about you from Shand here.” He chuckled and gave Fennec a knowing grin as she groaned quietly.

“All good things, I hope? I just wanted to thank you for having Fennec invite me to the meeting tonight.”

“It’s no problem. And if that judge is going to keep handling abuse cases, we’re going to need you to know what we do, how we operate. I heard from a buddy from the last district they worked that they want all depositions given on the stand in front of them.”

You groaned internally at that. Your scheduling was going to get a lot more complicated.

“Thanks again,” you said as Fennec led you, true to her word, to a booth as far away from Boba and his line of sight as she could get you the two of you. You slid into the seat and she sat down across from you. You folded your hands on the table, then in your lap. “So, um, hi. I just want to say I’m really sorry for not replying the last few days. It’s been hectic and I haven’t had a lot of time to do anything for pleasure or leisure.”

“It’s okay. You’re a busy person, your job demands a lot of you and contrary to what a lot of people think, I know you’re not some all-powerful hero. You’re a person, doing what you need to do.”

You could have kissed her.

“You have no idea what it means to hear you say that. But enough about work and my inability to take care of myself some days. How have you been?”

***

You used the last bit of ketchup on your last fry as you listened to her tell you her story, about where she grew up, where she went to school, how she landed in this town and met Boba. How the two of them started the MC and that it had started as the two of them plus Din and Paz who you had yet to meet. When you were finished, you kept listening, you could listen to her all night. But it wasn’t long before you had to stifle a yawn.

“Come on, you need to go to sleep.” She slid the bill over to her, pulling out her wallet and wrapping a few bills up in it before you could get a word in of protest. “Boba will make sure no one takes it, let’s get out of here.” She stood and held out a hand to you, which you took. The two of you made your way over to where your coat hung and walked out as you shimmied into it. You tucked your hands into your pockets and squeezed the pocket warmers before you let her take your hand again, threading her fingers through yours.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence. The snow was still coming down, just flurries now, but with the promise of more to come. When you could see your car again, you both slowed your steps, neither of you quite ready to say goodnight, but you knew you had to, or you would be just that much more tired tomorrow, more on edge. She squeezed your hand once, twice as you got to it, now dusted with the white powder. You turned to face her.

“Thank you, for dinner, for talking, for inviting me, for everything.”

“No problem, Doc, really.”

You glanced back and forth between her eyes and her lips. You took a half-step toward her, tilted your head just to the right.

She brought her other hand up, cupped your cheek before brushing your hair out of your face. Her smirk made a brief appearance before she pressed her lips to yours. You kissed her back, letting yourself get lost as she brought her arms around your waist under your coat. Yours wrapped around her shoulders in response. She deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue along your lips briefly before you let your own brush against it. She tightened her grip on you, one hand sliding down into the back pocket of your scrubs.

When the two of you came up for air, you rested your forehead against hers, letting your breathing stay in sync. She made a small noise of displeasure as she leaned back, untangling from you and your coat.

“Fuck, I don’t want you to leave. But you need to. Go get some sleep, Doc. Let me know when you get home.”

“Fine, but I want you to do the same or I might just have to worry about you.”

“I can do that. Night,” she whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek and stepping back to let you drive away in the orange glow.

Tags: @maybege @phoenixhalliwell 

[bonelessbloodfreak]

WILLOW

a destiel fic, 2192 words, T, love confessions, based on Taylor Swift obviously 😌

Summary: Dean and Cas find comfort in each other, finally having the space and time to build their happiness around each other. They’re in love. It’s what they deserve. They just have to figure out how to say it.

Link: ao3

“You’re everywhere Cas.” Dean says, and Cas doesn’t have the energy to try to understand what he means. It sounds an awful lot like a complaint, but Dean wasn’t complaining about Cas. Not really.

“So you want me to leave then?” Cas says, more of a statement then a question, looking up at Dean with a piercing gaze. Although the bite of the question is there, Cas finds that he’s able to keep his expression blank, unwilling to let Dean see the extent of his emotions. He’s not offended though.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Dean grumbles, he crosses the room with a hand running through his hair. Cas tilts his head up like he’s challenging that statement and Dean sighs. “I want you here, Cas. Of course I do.”

“So why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m- Fuck Cas, I’m not good at... at-“

“Wanting something for yourself.” Cas finishes for him. Dean looks scared, but he doesn’t deny it.

“I want you here. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you didn’t.”

“I understand, Dean. You’re selfless to a fault. You gave everything you had to Sam, you’ve sacrificed your life for strangers even when they don’t deserve your kindness. You deserve some good for yourself. It’s not repayment, it’s not because of anything. It’s just because you’re human, you get to be selfish too sometimes.”

“Cas Im plenty selfish.”

“Not with things like this,”

“What is this?”

“You tell me,” Cas lifts an eyebrow. He’s hesitant too though. He’s nervous. Dean licks his lips and nods to himself before looking right at Cas.

“I want you here Cas. But I want you to want to be here.”

Cas gazes at Dean softly, his smile gentle. Looking at Dean, he has every freckle committed to memory. He has Dean Winchester memorized. He could get lost in looking at Dean. He has many times before.

He looks desperate, his eyes hopeful and scared and a little bit angry. His face is the most open Cas has seen from him in a while, he’s letting himself feel, but even more, he’s letting Cas see. He’s still as beautiful as ever. Still Dean Winchester. Maybe this is his breaking point, and maybe he’s already hit his breaking point. Maybe this is the beginning of rebuilding. That makes Cas heart flutter up in hope.

“I want to be here Dean.” Cas says. Dean nods finally and offers a sincere, but tight smile.

“Good. You’re staying.” So Cas drops his duffel bag back on his bed and nods. He’s still not sure this is the best decision, but he looks at a Dean again and thinks that if Dean never stops looking at him like that, he’ll never try to walk away again. He wants this. Of course he does, but he knows Dean and he knows he’s not going to get it.

Maybe it was selfish of him to want someone who so clearly isn’t ready for this, but Cas is tired of being selfless. Like he told Dean, they could both use some selfishness on the grand scale. Cas thinks Dean is pretty grand. And maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Dean is ready.

He thought leaving, even if only for a few weeks, would save him some hurt. Maybe it would give him the space to get over Dean in his newly human form. It had all hit him at once and it left Cas feeling bare and shaken. Now graceless, he couldn’t control his desires, he couldn’t regulate his body the way he used to be able to. He couldn’t stop his cheeks from flushing when Dean smiled at him. He couldn’t stop his heart from jumping when Dean hugged him. He couldn’t stop goosebumps rising on his arms when Dean let his hand rest on his back.

Then they had fought. It was stupid and petty, but Cas took it as an excuse to get some space. Get ahold of his emotions because he knows getting over Dean is out of the question.

Dean doesn’t let him leave. Cas is glad.

Dean nods, Cas Can see the hesitation and the fear and the hope and guilt and... everything. He can feel the way Dean has been ripped apart countless times, every day since he was four years old. Cas feels like he’s been torn apart as well. They can smooth over their scars together, heaven and hell know they themselves have been the reason for some of them.

The next few days are still tense, but not with anger. Dean seems to have realized that an emotional boundary was crossed and Cas has realized it too. Dean isn’t ignoring him anymore, for which he’s glad, and he values spending time with Dean, even if every glance sets his heart on fire.

Dean teaches Cas to cook and soon enough they’re moving around the kitchen together like they were made for each other. They still haven’t acknowledged it, but Dean puts his hand on Cas’ hip when he goes around him, and Cas lets Dean feed the sauce to him when he taste tests it, rather than simply taking the spoon himself.

Then they’re going on errands together, Dean says he needs to show Cas how they do things, show him which brand of shampoo they like and where to find the good beer. But then Dean continues to accompany Cas, just because it takes half the time with two people and when Cas finds some odd organic snack to try, Dean gets to bicker with him about it.

Dean let’s Cas drive sometimes, and he says not to tell Sam. He also says not to tell Sam that they rotate who chooses the music, and that sometimes on Deans turn, he chooses Taylor Swift.

Cas can only imagine how they must look to the world around them. Like they’re falling apart, crashing and burning, going out in loud explosions of light and dust and fire. Like they’re falling into each other rather than apart. They’re crashing down, but they’re building a new foundation on the debris. They’re communicating for once, and they must look like they’re late to the game, maybe this should have happened years ago, but for once they’re self sacrificial relationship has become healthier.

They’re moving, but they’re moving together, roots strongly woven into the ground, going far deeper than anyone might expect. Or maybe everyone expected it.

Cas has nightmares now that he’s human. He knows Dean does too, but neither of them seek comfort with each other. Another line to cross. Sometimes they talk about it. Dark kitchens and cold coffee and whispered tears with shaking hands. It’s over quick and when they end up in their separate beds, it’s feels even more lonely somehow.

One night Cas has his head on his pillow, eyes closed, he’s on his side facing away from the door, but he hasn’t slept yet. He hears the door open and he can feel the shift of air. He doesn’t need to look to know it’s Dean. He’s about to sit up when the floorboards creak and the door clicks shut again. Then there’s a dip in the bed and Cas rolls over lazily. Dean stands up again and wipes his palms on his pajama pants.

“Sorry.” He whispers. Cas squints up at him in the dark and lifts the blankets for him.

There’s only a moment where Cas can almost hear all of Deans thoughts, if only he were still an angel, before Dean crawls under the covers next to Cas. He keeps space between them, but Cas is too tired for his shit, he throws an arm around Dean’s waist and rubs his hand over Dean’s shoulder.

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” he says. Cas knows he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he just nods and pulls Dean closer.

They both fall asleep easier that night.

In the morning, Cas wakes up to a hand in his hair and an arm around his shoulders. Dean is awake and Cas guesses he has been for a little while now.

“Morning.” Cas grumbles and Dean chuckles.

“G’morning,” he whispers.

They go on a hunt that day. A ghoul a few hours away. Sam and Eileen ride in the backseat together so Cas takes shotgun and Dean lets him pick the music. He puts on Dean’s top 13 Zepp traxx.

When they get back it’s past dinner and they all shower and clean up which means it’s late by the time they’re all settled, but Dean cooks a meal anyway, calling Jack from his room and they all eat at ten pm together.

The hunt was tiring, so Sam and Eileen go right to sleep, Jack takes over the Dean-cave and Dean lets him. He isn’t ready to go to bed, so he gets his jacket and goes outside.

He sits in baby for a little while, no planning on going anywhere. Cas joins him, tapping on the window to let Dean know he’s there before he climbs into the passenger seat.

“What are you doing?” Cas asks.

“Sitting.”

“For any reason in particular?”

“Not really.”

So they sit together in silence. It’s not sad, actually they feel happy for the first time in a while. Cas let’s himself think about it, this feeling. Dean makes him happy. Dean has always made him happy. The silence doesn’t last long though, and this time it’s Dean who interrupts it.

“Thank you. For staying. For saving me. And Sam. For... just for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Dean. I’m happy to do all of that.”

“I know. But I don’t want you to, okay? No more ‘happy to bleed for the winchesters’ shit, got it? You don’t deserve that. I’m not gonna ask that of you, not if I don’t need to. You gotta take care of yourself, man. I appreciate it, but I’d rather have you alive, so no more sacrifices.”

“No promises. And you too.”

“Fone.” Dean nods. “No deals, no dying, just... living. Finally, now that we get the chance.”

“I think we deserve this.” Cas nods.

“I hope so. You deserve more than this,”

“I don’t want more than this though.” Cas says. Dean smiles and nods like he knew Cas would say that.

“I’m glad you stayed.”

“I would’ve come back.”

“Still.”

“I’m glad I stayed too.”

They look forward again and there’s not much to see, but the quiet is comforting. Neither of them want to go back inside, it would mean they go to separate beds and separate rooms and Cas thinks he’d rather not sleep at all.

“It’s late.” Cas whispers.

“It is.”

“Do you think you’ll have nightmares again?”

“Probably.” Dean shrugs. They aren’t looking at each other, Dean is picking at his fingernails and Cas is staring down at the dashboard.

“Me too.”

“We could always... I mean... it’s nice to have someone else there sometimes.”

“It is.” Cas agrees.

“I like my memory foam though.”

“I have no attachment to my bed.” Cas shrugs.

“Good.”

“Good.”

Cas looks at Dean who still doesn’t look back, but he’s smiling and blushing and Cas is secretly aching to reach across the seat and hold Dean’s hand. Begging Dean to take his hand. Cas would throw all his plans out the window for Dean. Technically he has before. He’s thrown out a whole army for Dean. He would do it again too. He’d follow Dean to the ends of the Earth.

Cas gets the sense that Dean would do the same for Cas.

Dean looks back at him and neither of them look away. He reaches out and takes his hand. Thumb smoothing over his knuckles.

They head back inside and they don’t talk about it, but Dean loads up the dishes into the dishwasher and Cas wipes down the counters and then Dean turns and leans back against the counter, Cas does the same across from him.

They’re not quite chest to chest, but they’re close enough to touch and Dean looks scared. Cas feels serene, but his heart is wild. Dean swallows.

“Cas, I-“

Cas reaches a hand to Dean’s arm, calming him. Dean smiles shakily.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. Cas shakes his head and takes Deans hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing his knuckles gently.

“Don’t be. You’ve always done what you thought was best. As have I. We deserve this.” Dean nods, tears springing to his eyes. He steps closer and hugs Cas, holding him like he’s never been held before. Cas could die happily in Deans arms.

When he pulls away, it’s with hands on the other’s face and lips quickly finding each other, gentle and slow and full of emotion.

“I love you, Dean Winchester”

“I love you too,” Dean says, voice cracking.

They’re both grinning through tears and kissing again. They’re both walking towards Dean’s room.

It’s easy, but Cas isn’t surprised at how easy it is to be with Dean. They’ve fought through life and death and more death to get here. They deserve a little bit of easy.

[suzey8888]

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious education for kids “Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education. “Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly

any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon after this, the draft was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protection, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency

specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily. “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “After America, there is no place to go.” Kitty Werthmann ***Re-read the part where she says “everything was free” - healthcare and so on. Very much worth reading twice.****

[lezliefaithwade]

A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eight

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 20th, 2000

“You’re absolutely sure you’ll be okay over Thanksgiving break?” Emile pressed Remy.

Remy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Mom, I’ll be fine,” he said with a little scoff. “I don’t have to talk to my parents about dropping out of college, or moving out of the dorms, and my siblings don’t know either, so they can’t spill the beans. It’ll be five days of sleeping in my parent’s house and wishing they didn’t host Thanksgiving dinner for my family every year so I don’t have to be swamped by my cousins and aunts and uncles. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure...” Emile said. “Just know my parents’ offer stands. They wouldn’t mind feeding five mouths instead of four.”

“I know,” Remy said. “But you don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

  November 23rd, 2000

“So, let me get this straight,” Emile’s dad asked. “You met a boy in college, became friends with him despite his great reluctance to do so, and found out that he would hurt himself if he continued going to college, so you decided to offer to move in with him, and take on a job so that you can help with rent? And we have to pay less for your tuition because you’ll be living off campus?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Emile said. “Remy hasn’t dropped out officially, yet, but he’s working through the papers and trying to find a second job to help in addition to Starbucks that means we won’t have to stretch our money as thin.”

“That’s amazing, Emile,” Dad said. “I can only see you doing that sort of thing. But it somehow makes complete sense when it’s you doing it.”

Emile ducked his head and continued to help peel potatoes for the Thanksgiving dinner. “I’m just really worried about Remy, honestly,” he said. “He had to go back to his parents’ for Thanksgiving because we don’t have the apartment yet, and they don’t know that he’s dropping out of college yet.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean, ‘they don’t know’?” Dad asked, placing a hand on Emile’s shoulder.

“I mean they don’t know, Dad,” Emile said. “His parents aren’t very supportive. He was going to college on his own dime, not theirs, because he wanted to go into whatever major he wanted. And he’s told me before that...that his parents favor his siblings over him.”

“What?!” his dad asked.

“He’s said it in passing multiple times, Dad. Even if it’s not true, he genuinely believes it, and based on everything else I’ve heard about his parents, I’m inclined to believe him on this,” Emile said, biting his lip.

“Well why couldn’t you invite him over here, then?” Dad asked.

“I tried!” Emile defended. “I said he was welcome to come home with me if he wanted, but he said he didn’t want to impose, and that his parents were expecting him home anyway. They don’t even know whether or not he has friends at college, Dad. He was worried that they might cut him out of the family if he didn’t go home, because the dorms definitely close over Thanksgiving, and they’d assume he’s gay if he decided to have Thanksgiving with us!”

“Is he gay?” Dad asked.

“Dad...I’m not comfortable sharing his preferences without his permission,” Emile whined in a whisper.

“So, that’s a yes, then,” Dad said knowingly.

“Yes. He’s gay, told me himself. Something tells me he doesn’t care who knows it, but his parents don’t. And I don’t think he’s anywhere near a safe enough spot to tell them,” Emile hissed.

“Tell that boy that if you two don’t have an apartment by Christmas, that he’s welcome over here. Those people sound like horrible family, and his parents ought to be ashamed of what they did to him,” Dad said firmly.

“Thanks, Dad, but we already have the money for a safety deposit and first month’s rent, it’s more a matter of me finding a job after the Christmas rush,” Emile said.

“Should I make a couple calls?” Dad asked.

Emile shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s going to be a low-level retail-type job that I get, because that’s what I can work with school. No need for you to pull strings if I can’t even take the opportunity to use them.”

“Just remember, all you have to do is say the word,” Dad reminded him. “I’ll put my ear to the ground and see if anyone needs help out there.”

“I know,” Emile said. “Maybe when grad school happens, depending on how many classes I have to take. For now, though, I’m content working at, like, Target or something.”

“Who’s working at Target?” his mother asked from the edge of the kitchen.

“Hey, no, out! We don’t want you burning any of the food!” his dad said, playfully whipping a dishrag at her.

His mother took one step backward until she was out of the doorway to the kitchen, before crossing her arms. “Who’s working at Target?” she repeated.

“Well, it’s one of the places I’ve applied to,” Emile said. “Nothing definite. But...my friend Remy and I are going to be getting our own place off campus, and that’s my way of helping to pay the rent.”

“Oh,” his mother said, surprised. “Would this be the same Remy you told us about at the beginning of the school year?”

“Yeah, the one and the same,” Emile said. “College is killing him, but his parents aren’t nearly as supportive as you guys are, so I’m going to help him with rent on a place so that he doesn’t have to keep going to school.”

“Oh, okay then,” his mother said. “If you ever fall short the money for food or anything like that over the summer, let your father and myself know. We’ll come over armed with half a grocery store.”

Emile laughed. “I hope that won’t happen, but I promise to let you know. And when we can afford a landline, I will call you still. Until then, letters are going to be my new best friend.”

His mother smiled at him. “I really hope this works out for the both of you, Emile.”

“I do too,” Emile said, smiling.

“Now, I’ll go back to talking with your grandfather, you two just make sure that nothing ends up burning.”

“Will do, Mom,” Emile said with a playful salute.

She shook her head fondly and left sight quickly. Dad nudged him. “So, are you going to tell me more about Remy? We only really know his name, at this point.”

“Well, he’s got a pretty hard exterior,” Emile said. “It’s very hard to get past that, honestly. But he’s kinda sweet once you get to know him. I say ‘kinda’ because his parents did a number on him. But I’m slowly teaching him people skills, and he’s actually really good at making conversation, even if he doesn’t always read people correctly. He’s learned to not play off hurt feelings as a joke, by now, which is a huge improvement.”

His dad smiled at him and Emile offered a confused smile back. “What?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” his dad waved off.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Emile said. “What is it?”

“You seem rather fond of him,” he said.

“Well, yeah, he’s my friend,” Emile said, shaking his head as he started to mash the potatoes. “I don’t see your point here.”

“You’re bisexual, Emile,” Dad said. “He’s gay. You’re both in each other’s dating pool. You’re moving in together. Are you two...involved at all?”

“What?” Emile asked.

“There’s no shame in it if you are,” Dad rushed to assure him. “You just appear to be very fond of him.”

“Yeah, like, as a best friend thing, not in an I want to date him thing! I mean, he’s cute, sure, but like...he’s not...he’s not very nice, still. Like, he’s made so many improvements, and I’m proud of him for that, but I don’t think I could be with him the way he is right now,” Emile said. “He’s still mean sometimes. And I know that no one can be nice one-hundred percent of the time, even I’m not nice that much. But...I’m mean at maybe ten percent of the time. He’s mean, like, forty percent of the time.”

“Ah. I understand why you don’t like that ratio,” Dad said knowingly. “You always were the type who wouldn’t hang around the mean kids unless you could make them a little less mean.”

“Yeah. And I never dated anyone who didn’t act nice to people they didn’t know, because everyone deserves kindness,” Emile added. “Remy isn’t quite there yet. I like to think he could get there, but he isn’t right now.”

“He most certainly could get there, with you as his teacher, I have no doubt about that,” Dad said. “But he has to want it, first, and that’s the key to getting real progress.”

“I know,” Emile said. “And he doesn’t want it. At least, he doesn’t want any friends outside me. Has too many bad past experiences, apparently.”

Dad sighed. “Those are the hardest ones to gain trust from, Emile. I sincerely hope you never take advantage of the trust this Remy puts in you.”

“I would never dream of it,” Emile said with absolute certainty. “Remy is my friend, and I would never want to hurt him, ever.”

“Good,” Dad said with a nod. “Now, at the same time, you can’t be his therapist all the time, either. He needs a friend, not a clinical perspective. An outside view is healthy in moderation, but you have to make sure there is just that: moderation. It’s crucial to any friendship that you have an agreement that when it comes to priorities, each of you come first in your own respective lists. I know you want to help, Emile, and I know it’s hard to see people self-destruct. But if you’re not in a position to be helping that person without damaging yourself, the both of you will only end up more hurt.”

“I know all this, Dad,” Emile said patiently.

“I know you know it. But a refresher never hurts,” Dad replied easily.

Emile sighed and nodded to show Dad he understood, and they went back to cooking. Emile mashed the potatoes while Dad handled the gravy, and both of them kept one eye on the oven to make sure the turkey was being cooked properly. Emile took the cranberry sauce while Dad handled the corn, and soon enough, they had enough food prepared to feed themselves, Emile’s mom, and his grandfather.

Together, he and his Dad set everything up at the dinner table, and Mom and Grandpa came in as they heard the shuffle of feet and plates. “It looks amazing, as always,” Mom said.

Emile beamed. It wasn’t easy to set everything up for Thanksgiving, but it was worth it. And every year, he was becoming a bolder and better cook.

They sat down, said grace, and started to eat. Conversation was light, mostly about Emile’s time at college, the friends he had met, and his plans for the future. He mentioned that he was planning on moving in with Remy to his grandfather, but wisely chose to leave out the part about Remy’s abuse, and didn’t even touch the subject of him being bisexual. As much as he absolutely adored his grandfather, he did have a few...less than savory views on the queer community.

Once dinner was over, Dad and Grandpa went to the living room to watch the football game, while his mother pulled him aside, her face worried. “Emile, can we talk about your friend Remy for a minute?”

“Sure, I guess,” Emile said. “Should we go to my room, or something?”

“Somewhere private is best,” his mother agreed.

They went to his room and Emile sat on his bed, watching his mother pace the length of the room after the door was closed. “Are you certain that you want to move in with this friend, Emile?” she asked.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m sure.”

“You’re not just doing it because you think it will be better than the dorms? You’re aware that you’ll have to pay half the rent and utilities, and maybe even the food that isn’t covered by your meal plan?” Mom clarified.

“No, I’m not trying to escape the dorms, Mom. I’m doing it to help Remy, so that he doesn’t kill himself from overworking and stress. I know I’ll have to work hard over the summer, and even during the school year, to ensure that rent is paid. I know the risks.”

“And you know that Remy will hold up his end of the bargain? He won’t just skip out on you the second he gets the chance?”

“He doesn’t have a choice, Mom. I’m the only option he has if he doesn’t go to college,” Emile said.

Mom looked a little upset but nodded. “If you’re sure, then you have my blessing. Just, be careful, Emile.”

“Always, Mom,” Emile promised.

She left the room and Emile’s cell phone rang. He answered it without a second thought. “Hello?” he asked.

The shaky breathing on the other end of the phone made his hackles rise. “E-Emile...” Remy stammered out. “I...I thi-think I need help...”

[catboysimulator]

Story Two - Daily Grind

In the early morning of the desert, the weather feels warm yet fresh against one’s skin. In the wee hours of dawn is when the Seekers of the Sankres begin to awaken, eager to begin their day while the Keepers continue to rest after having turned in only an hour or two prior. Fortunately, the Keepers are quite used to the Seekers’ morning routine of sound-offs, some hooting and others chirping, while the rest bellow and lazily roar.

 Coming out of their adobe homes after getting ready for the day, they are all prepared and eager to finish their workload. The inner machinations of the tribe work like the simplest, yet most efficient, well-oiled machine. Not one person works alone, every Sankre is integral to the pride for things to operate smoothly. Whether it is tending to the farm, taking care of the little ones, feeding the Gryphons, repairing, cleaning, cooking… The list goes on, and on.

 After his arrival, Azhi’li had no idea just where his place was. Everyone worked so easily, as though it was complete second nature. Azhi’li was itching to work, to do something, yet he was worried about trying to offer his help, afraid of making a mess of things.

 Of course, that was only after the first month or so of his arrival. He still feels a bit out of place, but he has gotten much more comfortable.

 “Good morning, Zizi!” a crowd of little voices chime eagerly, screaming and laughing ringing throughout the caverns as a pile of young miqo’te crowd and climb onto Azhi’li. The red Seeker laughs in amusement as the children cling onto him, lolling their heads back as they tug at their cousin.

 “Good mornin’, little ones! C’mon, y’all, get back down! Y’know very well I ain’t a tree!” he chastises them, yet his tone is purely amused. Still, the children listen, getting off Azhi’li and lining up, theatrically puffing up their chests and saluting the older Seeker by pounding their chests with their little fists. The older Seeker couldn’t help but bark out in laughter, rolling his eyes with a giant toothy grin while the young ones also laughed and lightly shoved at each other.

 “Alright, come on. Let’s all head on over to the trainin’ grounds, yeah?”

 Leading them along, the little miqo’te followed their cousin like little ducklings in a row, chattering amongst themselves.

 “What are we going to learn today?”

“I don’t know! Maybe he’ll show us how to split rocks with our BARE HANDS!”

“Or maybe show us how to split the EARTH!”

“Oh, oh! What about if he--?!”

 “Hey, hey! Come on, guys, cut me some slack! That’s all a bit too much ta be learnin’ right now, don’t ya think?” Azhi’li quipped in return while the children whined and asked, “So what are you going to show us today?”

“Mm… Well, before we start, how ‘bout we do some stretches, yeah? Come on! Early mornin’ stretches! Th’more relaxed ya are, th’better you’ll learn!”

 As soon as that was said, the young ones were quick to quit their questions and move on to do as told. Once their 10 minutes of stretching regiments were completed, Azhi'li let out a "whew!" before grinning towards the kids and pumping his fists. "Alright, li'l pugilists! Let's get started t'day, aye?"

"Aye!" they repeated before laughing excitedly.

It has been this way for a few sennights now, where Azhi'li would show the children what he knows, ever since his uncle G'sena told him of their history.

"We were built on the backs of monks, you know," Sena informed him with a gentle smile. "Our ancestors were refugees of Ala Mhigo during the time of King Theodric, when he razed the Temple of the Fist. What few miqo'te that had been under Rhalgr's teachings escaped to Thanalan, and made our home the way it is today. They carved the sides of the mountains with their hands to make our home, and gave us the Sun." He gestured up towards Azeyma's watch.

"Yet, the people here have long since forgotten our monkhood, and we have instead taken upon blades and shields, bows and axes, staves and chakrams. No one here has encountered a monk ever since your father, and even then he was not taught the way you were. We have soulstones, but no one uses them, nor has used them for many summers," he explained further, holding a box within his hands. "No one can open the box without the blessing of our matron. Yet... I believe with you here, Dhezi, you might manage to rekindle that fire within our people and the matron. And the best place to start with that, if you are interested, is with the younger generation."

"I could see that you are feeling a bit out of place still, so this might be a great opportunity for you to get in touch with your cousins... What do you think, Dhezi?"

Ever since that conversation with uncle Sena, Azhi'li had volunteered to take care of the little ones who were interested in pugilism. He wanted to take them through the steps he had first learned back in Ul'dah with the pugilist's guild, and fortunately they all seemed to be taking in the lessons quite well.

For the ones who didn't understand or seemed to struggle a bit more than the rest, Azhi'li was sure to be patient with and take his time teaching them. He knows he has plenty of time here, plenty of time to learn more of his family and to teach them what he knows, as well as learn about what they know.

This is his home.

---------------------------

After training, he takes the little ones to have lunch. Moving into the kitchens, he cooks them up some aldgoat stew, the same way Mama Azhi used to make it for him. He wears a bittersweet smile on his lips the entire time he cooks, soft hums escaping him as his tail sways slowly behind him. 

The children wait outside at the tables for their food, while Azhi'li is joined by some older miqo'te. Sunkissed, sunworn; the crinkles on their face creasing as they smile towards Azhi'li. "Dhezi, dear, that smells wonderful. Is there any way we can help?" 

"Ah! No, y'don't have ta--," he stammers out, before one of them chuckles and places a gentle hand upon his arm. "We would like to."

That makes the red Seeker pause before smiling a bit sweeter, nodding. "Alright. Let's make enough fer everyone, yeah?"

And so they cooked together, making steaming pots of aldgoat stew. The smell wafted out from the kitchens out into the caverns, bringing in many Sankres from each corner. A feast was not really planned out, but, here they are, passing out bowls to everyone so they can all eat together.

Sharing a warm, hearty meal like this, surrounded by so many people who are considered his family... It feels so strange, honestly, with how many there are-- yet, it is not an unwelcome feeling. These strangers are warm, kind, considerate, and caring to someone who they were meant to know all their lives, yet only just met. It helps Azhi'li relax, helps him realize that these people are indeed meant to be his family.

The caverns are full of laughing, smiling faces. Warmed by Azeyma's rays, as well as embraced by Menphina's light. This is not the type of tribe people have always warned him about back in Ul'dah, ever since he was a kid. Truly, what farfetched lies and stereotypes he was fed.

---------------------------

"What're ya making, Zizi?"

Approached by a young miqo'te, G’luna, Azhi'li looks up from his craft before offering a gentle grin. "Wanna see?"

"Yeah!" The little one's too-large-for-their-head's ears perk up and his giant, round eyes widen considerably as he steps closer and peers down at what Azhi'li was doing.

Weaving beads together, Azhi'li held onto the string carefully before lifting it to show the curious one.

"Oh! You're making a necklace?"

"Well, makin' that 'nd more. There's a lot of tagua that tio Sena told me about, 'nd the abuelitos showed me how to make jewelry out of them, so..."

"Why are you making so many, though? Do you like to wear them?"

"I do! But these are not for me. They are for m'friends 'nd family."

"... But we are right here? And we already have enough?"

Azhi'li couldn't help but to laugh lightly, nodding. "Ya are, 'nd ya do! But, I'm talkin' 'bout m'other friends 'nd family outside of the Sankres. I have more brothers 'nd mamas that aren't here, y'know!"

"More brothers? Why aren't they here, then?"

"Mm, b'cause they have their own family."

"... I don't get it."

"Haha, that's okay. So, y'know how y'have yer friends, right?" Azhi'li inquires while smiling, continuing to polish some more tagua before weaving them with string. Luna nods. 

"Well, I have many friends. People who are not related to me, yet that I know and that I enjoy th'company of. Some a'those people I consider very close, closer than anyone else that I know... so they're like family to me, too. Yer family doesn't only have ta consist of th'people y'were born with, but they can be yer friends, too."

"-- Oh. Okay, I think I understand, now. So, my best friend can be family, too?"

"Well, why not?"

"I dunno."

"So then what would stop ya from callin' 'em such?"

"... Nothing?"

Azhi'li would give them a toothy grin at that, nodding. The young one released a small 'ooh' of revelation, before shifting to sit beside the older Seeker. "... Can I help you make these? How many are you making?"

"Aw, hey, a'course y'can. I'm makin' lots! I gotta make some fer Toadie, Miss Rei, K'ilhi, Mama Azhi, Zi'a, Zi'to... Miss Nana, Ryska, Si'ra, Livia, Latika'a, Yato... ... Poki," he murmurs towards the end, his voice growing smaller the more names he listed. The names he missed more and more as the days went by. 

The little one canted their head to the side, looking up at Azhi'li with brows pinched upwards. "Zizi?"

He hadn't realized it, but globs of tears were pouring down his face. He takes in a sharp breath, lifting a paw to wipe at his eyes while muttering, "Sorry, 'm sorry."

Wordlessly, G'luna shifted onto their knees, shuffling closer to Azhi'li and embracing him warmly. "Papa always told me to never apologize for tears, he says they are blessings of one's love."

With a nod, the red Seeker shifted to return the embrace, taking a few moments of deep breaths before pulling away and stroking Luna's head. "Thank you, prime. ... Well, let's make the prettiest collares y pulseras for everyone, hm?"

"Yeah!"

[koteosa]

I'm sorry to hear you're having a bad brain day. Those are the worst. If it helps at all, do you have any HCs about how the Arcana LIs celebrate their birthdays once they're with your apprentices?

thank you my brain was beating me up bad today U___U  spending time writing gets me really focused and helps a lot. here’s some headcanons for all my LI/Apprentice ships

Kamui x Asra

Kamui really wants to spoil the everloving fuck out of his lover(s). He doesn’t want to completely control their entire day (unless they want him to) though the urge is definitely there to plan something very elaborate. He has a lot of love in his heart and it makes him feel like he’s gotta do something Big to properly express how he feels

Gives Asra a lot of options for things they could do together and lets Asra decide, based on however he feels at the time. They could go to a spa and relax. Go on a picnic in the woods. Do something mischievous and potentially illegal. Or just stay in bed all day talking, eating food Kamui prepares for them with the Highest Quality Ingredients and care put into them, and get a little, a little, a little hands on

He wants to take care of Asra the entire day like he’s royalty. His birthday is such an excuse to get to do these sorts of things and Kamui is going to take full advantage. Brush his hair and they’ll take a bath together where Kamui washes him and does his makeup and nails and they dress up cozy and spend all day together. Kamui worries about pressuring Asra into something when he might have other plans but Asra’s plans begin and end with Kamui being there so. Kinda hard for him to be dissatisfied

Asra is the type to respond to “what do you want for your birthday” with “you”

Though Kamui doesn’t need to ask because he already knows exactly what he’s getting Asra and it probably involves something pretty Asra can wear, some good food, maybe something practical for his magic or something for Faust since it’s also her birthday too and it’s important that she doesn’t get left out. This is to say there won’t be just one gift there’s gonna be a lot of them and he’s a little embarrassed by how many things he ended up with and he’s going to blush when he presents them

But Asra does the same exact shit when it’s Kamui’s birthday. They’re both romantic idiots who are the type to be like “I saw this and thought of you and so I bought it for you” for lots and lots of things

Kamui’s not good at making things outside of like, food. So most of his gifts were bought, but for Kamui’s birthday Asra spends time making a lot of different things with every creative skill he has. Knitting him red scarves and making him little woodwork statues of cats etc.

Kamui x Julian

Something tells me Julian doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday and never drops hints about it but Kamui will find out and be like Listen You Fuck I Will Celebrate The Ever Loving Shit Out Of You. You Cannot Stop Me

Wakes him up in the morning very sweetly and makes him breakfast. He has plans because he knows Julian was just going to work all day and maybe go to the Raven that night as a treat and that is Not Acceptable

Julian probably cries at some point just a little bit because Kamui dresses up very nice and then does Julian’s makeup and hair and takes him on a walk before they sneak into that one abandoned garden from Julian’s Lovers chapter and have a picnic and Kamui pushes him down and kisses him and tells him how beautiful he is and then just starts reciting some poetry he wrote about Julian and There Are Limits He Cannot TAKE This!!! Somehow Kamui found a beautiful metaphor to describe Julian’s eyes and it’s illegal. How dare he

Lots of laughing and running around getting into trouble and Kamui tugs him into an alley every now and then to kiss him and get him all riled up

Kamui goes out of his way to be gentlemanly before Julian can do it first and Julian’s blushing like how do I cope--

Gifts include a book of poetry Kamui wrote about Julian and general gay yearning (and he’s extremely embarrassed about it because he’s not so sure any of it is any good but Julian Loves It. It’s A Masterpiece), a bunch of other books he thought Julian would like to drown out the embarrassing love poetry, some cool knives, expensive wine, magic charms he made himself (lots of stuff to protect against nightmares), and like. the sexy stuff. A ruby-adorned choker and black lingerie. Hello Julian your boyfriend has money

After getting into trouble all day, Kamui takes him stargazing and then they go to the shop where Kamui set up candles and rose petals and whatnot so they could take a fancy bubble bath and drink wine before they spend all night in bed together if you know what I

Kamui x Muriel

Had to pry his birth date out of Asra because Muriel won’t acknowledge his own birthday. He does not deserve to be celebrated. Kamui begs to differ

Muriel just knows Kamui’s birthday by default because Asra would talk about it in the past so he doesn’t have to ask. After they start dating, once November 14th rolls around he’s got a bunch of gifts prepared. Very simple, like, some stuff he carved, a nice meal, a wildflower bouquet, maybe some sort of lotion or perfume he made with Asra’s help. And Kamui cries about it because it’s just so sweet and heartfelt and AHHHH-

Kamui knows Muriel doesn’t like all the fancy stuff he does, but he still wants Muriel to feel really special. It’ll take some convincing but he’d like to take Muriel to a nice spa where he assures him it’s very quiet and they won’t be bothered. A hot spring, mud bath, that sort of thing.

They can go on a walk through the woods and forage for stuff to make a meal with, then they cook together and Kamui tries to hand feed him but Muriel is so embarrassed it doesn’t go very far. Still Kamui will sit in his lap afterwards and they’ll just bask in the peace of nature for awhile. Maybe Kamui will talk a little, quietly, and about nothing of consequence so Muriel doesn’t even need to listen to the words, he’s just lulled by the sound of his voice

Gifts! A lot of stuff for Inanna and the chickens to take the pressure off of Muriel having to receive a lot of things directly (though they all make him happy just the same). For Muriel directly, Kamui gets him stuff to make his life more comfortable; a soft teal blanket, pretty silk ties for his hair, homemade lotions/salves to make his scars hurt a bit less. Charms for protection and restful sleep.

Lots of kissing and praise throughout the day. More than usual, that is. Muriel NEEDS to know he is loved and appreciated and Kamui is very glad that he was born.

Very low energy, Kamui wants to do things to help him relax, turn his brain off, feel loose, good, loved. A very slow day without too much in it.

Sae x Nadia

“What’s that? It’s your day of birth and you have WORK scheduled? Don’t think so. I told everyone to go fuck themselves and had the chef bring us breakfast in bed. Once you’re finished I will braid your hair and use this oil I made to administer a full body massage. My very genius plan. Praise me”

They dress very comfortably because if anyone has a fucking PROBLEM then Sae will flay them alive from the inside out and Nadia considers that a wee bit of a turn-on. It’s cozy day bay bee. They drink tea out on the veranda with no shoes on (!!) and spend the entire day indulging

Sae puts on a magic show for Nadia (and no one else) at night that’s very mesmerizing and beautiful. Nadia responds by pulling Sae into her lap and kissing her dizzy and then Sae’s like “S-So did you like it then--”

Sae doesn’t exactly have plans so much as she hisses like a feral cat at anyone who tries to make Nadia do Work thus allowing Nadia to do whatever she wants, and Sae is at her disposal

Not much in the way of gifts because Sae doesn’t see the point in providing material possessions so much as providing An Experience

Sae doesn’t really Get birthdays because hers were never celebrated so it’s a learning experience for her. All she thinks is that this seems like the right time to spoil Nadia, and that’s, like, enough, right?

Whispers in Nadia’s ear that she’s wearing lingerie under her outfit but then won’t let Nadia unwrap that present until later. Probably won’t wait very long though they’ll be very busy all day if you know what I

Sae x Portia

Sae doesn’t have to do much but provide her presence. Portia knows what she wants to do, although she’d be delighted to let Sae plan a day for them once in awhile. There’s a lot of things Portia’s thought about doing but no time to do them, and her birthday is the perfect time for that. Nadia would let her take time off easy.

In this instance, Sae would arrive with like a bag of handmade chocolates or a decorated mason jar with some jam or something in it and present it to her arms out turned away blushing furiously and Portia can’t stop giggling at how cute she is. She kisses her and holds the gift lovingly against her chest, they’ll share it on the picnic they’re about to go on together!

Cozy clothes they aren’t afraid to get dirty in, laid out on a gingham blanket and talking, holding hands, feeding each other, kissing. Spoiling Pepi who comes over to hang out.

They go into the palace for hijinks. Sae follows along not knowing where they’re going or who they’re talking to or what they’re doing but Portia is so fun and she knows it’ll be good. Sae teaches her some magic along the way to make everything even more exciting, they can play some pranks where Sae teaches her a spell and Portia uses it for shenanigans

Sae can pay for them to go out into the town and eat at a nice bakery, and then she holds Portia’s hand and leads her to some stray cats she found recently. After that she can show Portia some magic stuff in the woods or maybe they can plan to travel somewhere adventurous where Sae can watch Portia swing around a huge sword maybe. They try out a bunch of fun stuff fit for a magician, stuff Sae’s pretty used to but it makes Portia’s face light up with wonder and Sae just stares at her. Heart eyes

[brokenxfragments]

Hikaru & Resri, the Spirit Bounded

Icon Use: FFXIV model

Theme Song(s)

You’re Not Alone - Erutan

Basic Information

Age: 18

Gender: Female // Male (presumably)

Height: 5′7 // 2′5 (small form, shoulder height) - 7′6 (large form, shoulder height)

Weight: 175 Ibs // 20 Ibs (small form) - 395 Ibs (large form)

Species: Human // Damon (dragon-like)

Orientation/Sexuality: Panromantic/Bisexual // Aromantic/Asexual

Relationship: Single (ship verse dependent) // N/A (never shippable)

Occupation: Adventurer

Brief Personality: Inquisitive — Optimistic — Kind ///  Cautious — Inquisitive — Quiet

Brief Bio: A duo that will never be found far apart thanks to their spiritual link, Hikaru & Resri enjoys traveling & learning, to which during the seemingly endless wandering Hikaru is likely to reach out to those in need of help while her damon partner might not reveal himself to strangers via hiding in the backpack she keeps with her. Both are inquisitive & bright, though it’s obviously that one is carefree while the other is cautious as though to balance this about themselves. The woman is fairly proficient in some instruments like a violin as well with survival skills such as cooking & first-aid. Resri is more or less the protector, able to become a far bigger size than he initially shows himself to be but only when he feels genuinely threatened.

Full Biography

     A child from a world in the Eldria universe known as Fal’na, Hikaru was born in the Tesula village. Fal’na was a world where the humes had a strange development in their evolution in response to the dangers this world had, a species of spirit-like predators that fed off the people that were caught outside of their warded cities & villages, unable to be stopped by physical means & cannot be harmed by such methods. These were the ‘spirit eaters’, named for both their phantasm existence as well as leaving a victim in a permanent comatose state after feeding off of them, alive in body yet dead in consciousness & spirit. It would forever be a myth constantly shifted & changed as to how the evolution began, yet however it started, people would soon after always have a spirit partner born from themselves, called ‘damons’. They would often materialize from their human by the time the child hit the age of puberty. These spirit partners were able to repel the spirit eaters & even kill them, though it would have to be a last line of defense if wards were to fail - for if a damon fell, their hume would fall with them, the two being one of the same despite being separate entities.

     Warders (those who kept the spirit eaters out of villages & cities) were a big part of any civilization no matter the size of the populace, to which thus Hikaru being born from a mother who was a renowned warder as well as a mastersinger father meant that she had expectations put on her from since birth. Yet she never seemed to have her voice, not even to cry when she was a baby. Despite this, she was a welcomed addition to the village, especially with her high spirit & optimism that overcame natural fear. None would be surprised that her damon, one he appeared, would be the responsible one. Yet none would ever see the result of their speculation of what kind of damon the child would have or if she would ever talk, for a dangerous entity would come to their village sometime when Hikaru was five - and it was no spirit eater.

     When the dawn came, there were no survivors of the Tesula village - all except for one. The strange child of the village had little memory of the night before except for a terrible pressure on her neck & red eyes staring down at her shortly after the cries of her parents falling silent. Yet she had still not cried nor made a sound. That had seemed to make the creature pause then snarl, where the pressure had increased until that point Hikaru passed out. Instead, she woke up in the arms of a woman with golden wings who had passed out even while keeping the girl safe. Even if Hikaru didn’t know nor remember what it was that she was saved from.

     The next couple of weeks were mostly a blur as the lady (with wings & horn hidden) that saved her brought the girl to other nearby settlements, hoping that one might take her in, but alas the unfortunate thing about Fal’na was that most of its inhabitants were heavily superstitious folks. Word had swiftly spread about Tesula’s devastation & how everyone had been slaughtered - save for the one girl. A child that survived where adults didn’t were thought to be in pact with the Maker of the spirit eaters or worse, to which none would wish to risk the chance that she was purely innocent of such a claim. And because the lady herself was without a damon, she was given equal suspicion & hostility. Thus with little option given, the lady, whose name was Rosalia, would adopt the child as her own with a sense of heavy responsibility, something that Hikaru would never understand even now.

     Within that first year, she started to speak at long last, becoming an inquisitive chatterbox of a child, soon enough calling the silver-haired lady ‘momma’ even though she was well aware that the lady wasn’t truly her mother. But she loved her, & she could see that she was loved in return even as it was constantly mingled with anxiety & fear. Over the many years since that day, Hikaru was constantly learning & receiving experiences that ultimately gave the woman that adopted her some sense of peace. Cooking, how to take care of one’s wounds, how to look for safe edible plants in strange locations were all considered pretty basic learnings. Hikaru would never know what a school was, though Rosalia did as well as she could to teach Hikaru further beyond survival. Of course, those were less than fun subjects, but she tried as best she could. She had more fun with survival learning than she did with math. The only thing that really interested her was other languages. She’d learn how to speak several as they traveled, especially when traveling involved different worlds. Because of the exposure to different races & species, Hikaru was easily comfortable with non-hume people.

     By her eleventh year, the child that was no longer a small child had experienced what was normal puberty for her people, an experience that Rosalia never knew of in thanks to her never realizing that damons were essential to their core of existence, none never wanting to interact with her. At some point of night where she felt exceptionally more sleepy & lethargic yet had no sickness, the discovery would come in the morning when Rosalia found her curled up with what seemed to be a blue feathery-like dragon in her arms, as though he was meant to be there. His name, he’d tell them both, was Resri. And it was clear that it was no accident of a creature simply wandering into Hikaru’s bedroll, not when they were bound by their very spirits to one another. This was the time that Hikaru would get to be brought back to Fal’na to learn much more about her people as well as damons, Resri more than eager to learn along with her since he too lacked knowledge about his existence except for his name & that Hikaru was his hume. That would take several months, part of which was to visit the old village that had once been Tesula, though regardless of the fact that she was long forgotten as the ‘devil child’ & could have possibly found herself a new family, Hikaru returned to the one who raised her, much to Rosalia’s secret relief.

     Her interests broadened in thanks to her revisit of her old home, taking to learning instruments as well as other subjects. Years still continued on as they’ve traveled. Oddly, the village’s prediction of the kind of damon Hikaru would have were partially true after all, as he proved himself reliable but eternally a worrier, wanting nothing more than to keep the girl he was bonded to safe from all harm, especially from her own faults. These years of travel, he’d hide inside of a backpack Hikaru had with her, even when it was discovered that he could take on a larger form on accident when Hikaru was faced with a snarling beast without Rosalia right there to chase it off. His larger form seemed to be the one to grow with years while his small form remained the same - likely the result of convenience as well as necessary circumstances. 

     When the war came onto Eldria, Hikaru was about seventeen at that point, & while she would have liked to help she found that she was told that she must stay out of the way for as long as possible. She was left to stay with Tobias & Silvia, two of Rosalia’s children that were fully grown for years at that point, both of whom who would have joined the fight themselves yet found that they couldn’t talk their determined though terrified mother from changing her mind. When the war came much closer, right into the realm of Seraphine, Tobias would suggest that maybe Hikaru would be safer in a much different universe, even despite the hume’s own protests about running away. Tobias’ twin sister agreed, though it seemed that once Hikaru was sent through in thanks to Silvia opening a portal through the Rift to an entirely different world that the woman had visited once, Tobias had been forcibly sent through as well before the portal shut promptly behind them. For well over a year, neither of them would ever hear a word about the war or if anyone were okay. They had stayed in the same location that they had landed in, perhaps for the dwindling vain hope that someone would open that portal back & welcome them back to a saved universe... but at some point, the three agreed that sitting there & waiting was doing them no good. It was time to start their own journey & make a new life for themselves until they’ve heard otherwise.

[clintbartonswife]

Family is the best gift

Pairings: Avengers x Reader Summary: You’re shocked to discover that most of the Avengers have not had a proper Christmas for years - if ever. You set out to fix it. @panicfob xmas #20 : Family dinner Notes: sappy fluff, giving them the happiness they deserve, CACW didn't happen, I did way too much research into random stuff for this masterlist  ||  25 days of xmas masterpost  ||  part two 

When you first joined the Avengers, a year after the Ultron fiasco you could see that you were entering one big dysfunctional family. There was no denying that they loved eachother, but they lacked basic trust in their relationships, as if they expected everything to fall apart at any second.

Really, you shouldn't have been so shocked that they didn't have a proper Christmas. 

It would’ve been fine (okay, not fine but you were trying to not be so dramatic here) had they only missed Christmas for the few years since the team had started, but no.

For Tony, Christmas was a time were he showered people closest to him with his wealth. At first you’d been annoyed by this, that is until you figured out the reason why: his shitty parents. Instead of spending time with his son in the holidays, Howard would throw expensive gifts at him before leaving to a fancy party with Maria, leaving Tony alone with Jarvis at home. That shit was not gonna fly with you.

Steve and Bucky, whilst celebrating Christmas with their family, had lived during one of the worst financial times in America’s history. Not to mention that since ‘waking up’ Steve hadn’t celebrated a single thing - birthdays don't count as he had to be literally forced out of his room by Tony every year. When Bucky joined the picture you knew you had to do something for the brainwashed assassin, hoping that maybe the experience would bring him some happiness.

Clint - the circus runaway with an abusive dad, a brother that abandoned him and a bag full of mental issues obviously didn't have such a good childhood, holidays pushed aside in favour of training so that he could escape the next lashing from Trickshot.

Similarly, Natasha’s time with the Red Room left her with a less than stellar childhood. Instead of hot meals surrounded by loved ones she survived years of cold training, lacking empathy and care. When she finally escaped their ranks holidays were obviously not at the top of her list.

The newest arrivals: Pietro and Wanda had it slightly better, living a poor but happy life until … that happened.

Sam, Rhodey, Thor and Vision were just along for the ride, with not-so-tragic childhoods (after all Vision was only shy of a year old) but part of the dysfunctional family nonetheless.

So, when the whole team was called out on a mission a week before Christmas you knew what had to be done. 

The first step of your plan was getting out of the mission, which was a hefty task in of itself. Thankfully you were known to be accident prone, so could easily explain how you had mysteriously twisted an ankle the night before leaving.

Once everyone had gone, you called on Heimdall to send Thor to you. This was the part that you were the most skeptical about, yet within half an hour the blond god had landed on the roof, bringing you into a large hug.

“Lady y/n! What occasion caused you to summon me?”

“Well, you always say that you’d love to learn more about our traditions so I thought you’d like to be here for Christmas”

The god grinned luminously, striding in to the common area with shining eyes.

“Another midgardian tradition! I would be honoured to attend this Christmas celebration”

“Great” you chuckled, directing him to the kitchen, “I’ll start by teaching you about the food”

Thor watched enraptured as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the meal so that it was ready to cook before the team arrived home. 

“What else goes into this celebration?” Thor asked, clapping his hands together.

“Decorations”

You led him to the cardboard box full of ornaments, revealing the bright colours with a smile.

“Aha! These remind me of a celebration that us Asgardians have. During the winter solstice we have Yuletide” Thor explained, picking up a wreath out of the box, “we celebrate my father and the Wild Hunt with a big feast that the whole town is invited to”

You nodded, helping Thor put up the decorations as he gave a quick history lesson of his people.

“What I don’t understand though,” he said, turning to face you, “is the significance of the tree. Is it supposed to represent Yggdrasil?”

“Ah, no. I don’t think that it has one meaning, as every religion seems to attach its own. Christianity sees it as a sign of everlasting life with God, while Pagans use it to represent the spring to come. It’s really up to the owner of the tree to see it how they like”

“Fascinating”

“Ms y/n, the team have completed the mission. ETA an hour and a half”

“Thank you FRIDAY, I’ll start putting the food in the oven”

The groans of the team were the first thing you heard as the doors opened, followed by the ‘oof’ of the sofa cushions as they launched themselves onto them.

“What smells so good?” Sam mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Yeah - Wait - Who decorated?”

Nat was interrupted by Thor, who extravagantly strode into the common room with a wide smile.

“Merry Christmas! Lady y/n and I have made a Yuletide feast for you all”

“Thor?”

“Feast?”

You sniggered quietly, sticking your head out of the kitchen to talk.

“Get your asses to the table so we can feed you. I’ll be damned if y’all miss another Christmas on my watch”

Confused, but seemingly excited, they all dragged themselves to the dining table, watching with wide eyes as you placed the food down.

“I shall get the turkey” Thor announced, looking pleased with himself at the shocked expressions of his teammates.

“This looks amazing, thank you” Clint grinned, already loading his plate with potatoes.

“I don’t know what to say” Tony admitted softly, eyes conveying all the gratitude he wouldn’t say out loud. You just gave him a smile, nodding in understanding.

“I just wanted you all to have a good Christmas. It is a few days early but I know Sam’s going home for the holidays and I didn’t want him to miss it”

As Thor returned with the turkey, a small sound of shock was heard from the two super soldiers, their eyes locked on a dish set in front of them.

“Is this-?”

Steve trailed off, exchanging a glance with Bucky before directing his gaze to you.

You nodded, “I asked FRIDAY what kind of dishes you would’ve had in the 30s, I tried to make it as accurate as possible but some of the ingredients weren’t available-“

You were cut off as Bucky stood up, tugging you into a hug, expressing his thanks.

“It’s really no problem” you beamed, “I just wanted to make everyone feel at home. I also tried making some chicken paprikash for the twins, just in case they didn’t like anything else”

“Everything looks lovely” Rhodey assured, pulling out the seat next to him and gesturing for you to sit, “now sit down so we can all start eating”

You bit down a chuckle as you did as he said, eyes scanning across the table as you did so.

Natasha was silently bickering with Clint over the last of the potatoes, winning as she smacked his hand with the serving spoon causing him to lose his grip on the dish.

Next to her, Sam, Bucky and Steve were all in deep conversation -most likely the two were reminiscing while Sam listened - as they tucked into their food.

The twins were hesitantly trying the stuffing, unsure, whilst Vision explained what was in it.

Tony, Bruce and Rhodey had started some conversation about quantum physics as they ate their chicken, pausing every now and then to enjoy their food.

Which left you and Thor.

“I think we did a pretty good job” you said, smiling at the blond.

“Indeed we did!” He cheered, raising his eggnog in agreement, “and I do like this beverage. Another!”

“Thor no!”

“Sir would like to remind Mr Thor that on Earth we do not smash glasses once their empty”

________________________________________________________________

@patzammit​  @xxloki81xx​  @geeksareunique​  @bangtan-serendipity​

[weartirondad]

A Heart Grows (With More People To Love)

Prompt: “You’ll always be my kid.” - Tony and Pepper are having a baby and first Peter is excited but then he hears how parents and adults in general will hover around the new kid and tend to forget older siblings. Naturally, he thinks Tony will forget him and he tries to alienate himself from his mentor so the rejection won't hurt so much. But it just leaves both of them miserable. ( @irondadgroupie )                 

FF.net I ao3

-

Peter wasn’t an ungrateful kid. At least he didn’t think he was.

Sure, sometimes he’d get annoyed because his aunt would tell him to do the dishes again and not to stay up too late video chatting Ned but that just fell under normal things teenager did, right?

Compared to Ned’s sister who was several years younger than them and was already scraping dangerously at the feared puberty door, he was a really nice, easy-going kid.

After having lost so much he appreciated what he still had.

He loved his aunt unconditionally and he told her every day, went to school happily most days, always eager to learn even when Flash tried to bring him down. He held on closely to Ned as his best friend and guy in the chair, studied for school and Decathlon and went out as a low-level superhero in his spare time, saving people or simply putting smiles on their faces.

On top of something he considered already a pretty blessed life despite everything that might’ve made it seem to be anything but, he had also gotten to meet his childhood hero. Not only that but he got to hang out regularly with said childhood hero, spent time with him in his ridiculously big and shiny lab to tinker, had movie nights and inside jokes and he had his own room in his monument of a tower.

Somewhere over the course of the past year he had made place in his life for the hero-turned-mentor-turned-surrogate-dad and everything that came with their new growing relationship. They had a schedule when they were supposed to train, when it was the billionaire’s turn to pick the boy up from school and they even planned their trips to get ice cream so they would eventually have tried out every single one in New York City. (It just might take them a while but they would make it.)

He didn’t care about the money, either, and didn’t even take it most of the time, happy with where his aunt had gotten them and their way of living even after – well – after everything they had been through together.

He probably had it worse than some but he certainly had it better than others.

Point was, Peter appreciated every little thing he got, every single person in his life, and he loved getting to spend time with The Tony Stark but he wasn’t an idiot either. As a matter of fact he had it certified that he had a genius level intellect.

He knew the man was busy more often than not and that made it mean that much more when he consciously made time for Peter in his tight schedule. There was a warm feeling of belonging, of family and being loved whenever he heard the man lazily cancel meetings (“Mister Stark you can’t stand up the president to watch Solo with me!”) just to spend time with him – a no-name kid from Queens.

One day, when they had been at the tower and someone had called the billionaire away to put fires out at Stark Industries, Rhodey had told him a little bit about how his mentor had been before they had met, how much Peter reminded him of his best friend when he was a teenager and just how hell- bent he was on not turning out like the father he never talked about.

Peter was perceptive enough to realize that the man he had looked up to ever since he could remember was in turn thriving on taking care of him, on having someone to teach and coddle and parent.

So when the newly wedded pair told him about them expecting a baby, eyes alight with wonder and excitement and a little fear, he was beyond thrilled for them.

All his life he had always wanted to have a younger sibling, a tiny someone to carry around and cuddle and love, and he had never really been able to actually realistically dream about it. May and Ben had never wanted kids to begin with but they took him in and loved him like they would’ve their own, like he was their flesh and blood and he was so incredibly thankful for the family, for the home, they gave him.

Now he could dream about more, however. He could dream about getting to be a sort-of-brother to his sort-of-dad’s baby and he already had a few pages worth of list full of things they would do together.

What he realized later on and which might’ve been the reason why Ned’s smile had faltered the tiniest bit when he had announced the good news to him – because Ned actually had a smaller sister and he knew – was that once a younger sibling got there, more often than not the older one got to spend significantly less time with their parent.

Which made sense, of course.

The baby needed a lot more attention and help because they actually couldn’t feed and dress themselves and weren’t able to change their own diaper. They were completely helpless whereas Peter himself was old enough to stay home alone for the weekend (although he rarely did because either May or Tony were always there), cook for himself, do his laundry and safe people as Spider-Man.

It was ridiculous, really, because Mister Stark wasn’t his dad and he wouldn’t be jealous of a newborn, he refused. Especially not when the mere thought of his own child made his mentor’s eyes light up with so much love and adoration whenever he talked about them.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes burn with tears and his heart plummet to his stomach with a sense of betrayal when he woke up and checked his phone only to find a message from the man he looked up to so much, asking to take a rain check on their lab date because of the prenatal classes he was attending with Pepper.

He rubbed the sleep sand from his eyes, stomach coiling with loss and tossed the phone to the side after having typed a short reply.

Stupid, he cursed himself, you’re being silly and childish and stupid.

The fact of the matter was, though, that in the end the #1 Iron-Dad mug he got him for father’s day and their matching shirts and their scheduled times together wouldn’t mean a thing. Not when the baby got here.

Tony wasn’t really his dad and he would have a child of his own – his actual, biological child. The kid would be loved beyond measure by everyone around them. They would have their mum and dad, several aunts and uncles and Peter himself wrapped around their little finger in no time.

There was a tiny, silly, childish part in his chest that clenched painfully and stupid, stupid voices screaming over each other in his head telling him that his days at the Stark residence were numbered and would be over not before too long.

It didn’t matter, though, Peter had been fine before Tony had come along and he’d be fine with spending less time with the man, as well. He had been perfectly fine doing his calculus homework on his own and creating his web-formula and –

“What’s gotten your panties in a twist on this beautiful Monday morning?”

He glared at his aunt who simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, watching him intently as he silently shuffled into the kitchen and plopped down on his chair, trying his best not to look too miserable. Considering the look she shot him he guessed he was failing spectacularly.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, reaching for the cornflakes and dumping them into his bowl with a little more force than necessary. They spilled over, making a mess on the whole table and suddenly he was overcome with a barely controllable urge to scream.

“Peter, sweetie –“

“I’m fine,” he gave back curtly and swatted her hands away that were instantly at his side to help clean up. He didn’t want her help. He didn’t need it. He just wanted to get out and go to school and get this horrible, awful, terrible day over with.

Of course she ignored him and brushed his mess over to the side so he could put down his bowl again, wordlessly handing him the milk to pour over what he had managed to actually get to its destination.

He started eating rather listlessly just going through the motions of picking up the spoon, filling it with the sweet substance that tasted like ash on his tongue when he swallowed it and when he was done and May had finished her morning tea and he was about to flee the scene, she reached out to pull him into a hug.

This was normal. She did this every day. Only today it felt more deliberate, her grip a little tighter, a little warmer and he almost relaxed into her touch. Almost.

“Tony called me last night,” she said, pausing when he – against his better judgment –went perfectly still in her arms and started to push away. “He told me about the prenat class and to make sure you get your weekly dose of fast-food. So I was thinking we could order in and watch Dancing On Ice instead? We haven’t had Thai in ages, what do you say?”

He nodded mechanically, head spinning because his aunt sounded like everything was completely fine. As if this wasn’t the beginning of the end of his relationship with Tony Stark. And he hated himself for wanting to whine about it, how he wanted to complain about a billionaire, superhero and soon-to-be father not having enough time to baby him.

He wanted her to comfort him and to tell him that his mentor would still have time for him and that he wasn’t less important to the man just because there would be a new kid on the block soon. At the same time, though, he wanted to hear that she had never liked Tony to begin with and that he was better off without him.

“Hey baby,” she frowned, voice soft as she pressed a kiss to his temple, “What’s wrong? Are you sad he stood you up? I can tell him that he’s a shit head if you want but you know he only has four of those classes, right?” Her hand carded through his hair reassuringly, making tears spring to his eyes that he refused to cry.

Yeah, but he’d have a lifelong of the baby, he didn’t say because it would’ve sounded stupid and jealous and downright mean.

“No, of course not,” he said instead and gently extracted himself from her arms, shooting her a smile he hoped looked not as desolate as it felt. “It’s just one time.”

-

Only it wasn’t just that one time because when Thursday rolled around and Happy was scheduled to pick him up from school, he texted the driver that he had too much homework and an essay to finish so he couldn’t make it to their weekly movie night.

He told himself Spider-Man was needed in Queens on Saturday when they were supposed to have brunch and he had promised Ned to show him some cool moves and his newest web formula after so he couldn’t just go over in the afternoon either.

Over the next couple of weeks he realized just how packed his schedule was.

Suddenly he had too much to study for with Decathlon coming up in only a few weeks’ time and helping May around the house and geeking out over the newest Lego catalogue with Ned and trying to keep his neighborhood safe at night.

There was nothing to it, really.

It wasn’t like he was avoiding Tony Stark. That would be ridiculous.

He was just too busy with his own life to be able to make it to the tower for their regular meet-ups. There’d come a time when he wasn’t so occupied anymore and it’d go back to normal. Only then, he thought, the baby would already be there and the older man probably wouldn’t have time for h –

“Peter! Peter!” Ned’s excited voice pulled him from his mulling thoughts and he blinked twice, a little irritated at how cheerful his best friend was. Why couldn’t he be going through a crisis, too? “Look, it’s Iron-Man!”

That got his attention.

His head snapped up in disbelief, mouth already forming a not-so-nice comeback for Ned for lying to get his attention and neck cracking loudly at the fast movement, but Ned had not been lying. (Really, Peter was an asshole for thinking he would in the first place. Ned was his best friend and he was just in a sour mood.)

Tony Stark was, in fact, leaning against the body of one of his flashier cars, casually swiping away on his phone, pointedly ignoring all the wide-mouthed stares and the small crowd of students who just sort of stopped as soon as they stepped into his vicinity.

Some sixth sense seemed to alert him to Peter’s presence, though, because the second the boy took the last step off the stairs he looked up with a wide smile and waved. Or maybe it was F.R.I.D.A.Y. telling him he got out but he liked the thought of Tony being so in tune with him that he actually sensed him without some fancy tech. How could he, though, when they hadn’t seen each other in three we –

“You know, I can actually hear the wheels in your head turning. You’re thinking that loudly, kid.”

The teenager blinked at the man standing right in front of him who had expertly made his way through the crowd of awed kids without Peter noticing only to ruffle his hair and greet him and Ned who was gleefully excited at being recognized but didn’t let out much more than a “Hey Mister Stark” much to Peter’s relief.

He still hadn’t said a word or even acknowledged his mentor’s presence he realized when the gentle hand on his shoulder tightened momentarily and concern flitted through the warm brown eyes that were holding his gaze.

“Has he been like this all day?” Tony asked, question obviously directed at Ned who frowned and shook his head.

“He’s been a bit off for a few weeks but like,” he shrugged and pulled on the strings of his backpack – something Peter knew he always did when he was nervous, “Not dangerously close-to-the-cliff off. Just, off, you know?”

Peter saw the tiny moment of hurt cross Tony’s features before he stilled them into sobriety again. He knew why, too, because Tony hated when he was like that – almost apathetic – and he usually found a way to cheer him up or at the very least made him not feel so alone anymore but he had been avoiding him and so he never even had the chance.

Tony Stark was someone who fixed things and he hated being kept out of the loop so he couldn’t even try. Peter knew he hated feeling helpless more than anything.

Maybe now was a good time to start speaking up. He could hear his mentor’s heart rate pick up and the way his eyes flitted back and forth between the kid, the crowd and his fancy watch looked a lot like he was preparing to take off flying with Peter any second and he’d really rather not do that right now.

“Sorry,” he murmured instead of a greeting, “I’ve just been pretty tired, is all.” Tony didn’t seem too convinced by his lie but he kept it up anyway, “Uh, what are you doing here? Where we supposed to be meeting today?”

He was pretty sure that they weren’t supposed to meet up before the weekend which is why he had already prepared a new excuse to give all concerned adults in his life.

Okay, so maybe he had been avoiding the man a little bit.

“Nope,” Tony shrugged and put his arm around his shoulder, dragging him along to the car. “But I checked your schedule and checked with May and she said you’d be free and that you weren’t going to go out tonight anyway, so I thought we could have a sleep over. The bots have been missing you and Pepper’s worried you’re abandoning her because she’s now double your size.”

Really, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve said that his mentor sounded pretty nonchalant about the whole thing but Peter did know better. He knew him good enough to hear the edge to his overly cheerful voice he only kept up because there were other people around. There was worry in there, confusion and a little hurt. The emotions were blending together, hidden so perfectly behind a smile that he was sure didn’t quite reach the eyes covered by the trademark sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“That,” he started and leaned into his mentor’s side experimentally, raveling at how perfectly he still seemed to fit there. He cleared his throat, “I’d like that. I miss them, too.” Which was stupid because he was the one who had cancelled all their meetings. So really, if anyone was at fault here it was him.

Tony nodded, seemingly appeased for now and thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the fabric of Peter’s t-shirt where his hand was still resting as he turned to Ned. “Do you need to be chauffeured anywhere?” he asked him but before he could even finish the sentence, his friend was already shaking his head and Peter couldn’t help but feel grateful for it.

Now that his mentor was here, he really wanted nothing more than to spend some time alone with him and he was already dreading having to talk about why exactly that had taken him so long.

-

“So,” he asked after they had gotten into the car and Tony had started driving more or less in silence, only tapping his fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of Black Sabbath’s Iron Man. “Are we going to be working in the lab? Do you need my help with some updates?”

Why did he feel so awkward? They had passed this stages ages ago. He hadn’t floundered while talking to Tony for almost a year now and now he was back to overthinking every little word and every single emphasis. What was wrong with him?

“Do you have homework?” the question came in return, completely sidestepping Peter’s own awkward rambling. If it had been a month ago he would’ve called the older man out for answering a question with another but it wasn’t so he didn’t.

It put an emergency brake on his racing thoughts, though, bringing them to a standstill and making the voices in his head go quiet for once. He nodded haltingly. “A few pages for calc and I have to finish writing a short story in Spanish.”

Tony hummed at that but didn’t immediately reply. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Peter watched him intently as he forced himself to relax. It was a visible struggle but one he obviously won and a bit of the tension that he hadn’t even realized the other man had harbored seeped out of his shoulders with his next sigh.

Guilt started gnawing at him. Was Peter stressing him out that much? Maybe he really should’ve stayed away –

“Then you’re gonna do your homework first and then we’ll catch a movie,” he decided then paused and when he started talking again he sounded hesitant, only a shadow of his usual self-confident snark. It felt wrong for Tony Stark to be nervous talking to one Peter Parker, like they had been freaky-fridayed only that Peter hadn’t gained any of imperturbability he associated with his mentor.

“Do you, uh, I mean, you can always ask me for help with the tasks, you know that, right? My Spanish grammar might be a bit rusty but I think – well,” he sighed, “Just, I want you to know that I’d be happy to help if you need it.”

The tiny gnawing had turned into a solid mass, one that was currently forming a big lump in Peter’s throat and he grimaced a little, swallowing past it. “Thank you,” he said, voice so quiet it wasn’t much more than a whisper, “That’d be great.”

The soft smile the billionaire shot him was almost enough to make the shame ease away. Almost. Because he was acutely aware that despite everything, he was the one who had made it weird again, who had put up the walls between them once more that they had spent so long meticulously disassembling the first time around.

And why? Because he was jealous of a fetus.

Peter exhaled deliberately, relaxing the hand that had been clenched at his side as he turned to his mentor as much as the seatbelt would allow. He used to do that all the time – left ankle tugged underneath his right thigh, right side facing the front window, arms gesturing widely and eyes sparkling with excitement, trying to catch his mentor’s gaze whenever he looked up from the street.

Now he was angled a little awkwardly in his seat but with the shift he already felt more comfortable – more at home – than he did before. And he tried, maybe a little too hard, to sound like his normal exuberant self.

“We’re supposed to be writing about a misunderstanding,” he told him, cringing when his voice came out squeaky but Tony didn’t seem to care, he simply nodded, small smile indicating that he was listening and so Peter continued describing his general plot idea, letting his mentor weigh in with his own ideas every once in a while.

When they parked the car about fifteen minutes later, Peter was considerably more at ease and the tiniest version of a grin was resting comfortably on his lips as he shook his head at yet another ridiculous notion. Just like that, they were back to normal and it felt like coming home.

Peter jumped out of the car as soon as it had stopped, waiting until Tony got out so the man could sling an arm casually around his shoulders and lead him to his workshop for his afternoon snack and to start working.

His favorite flavored Doritos (nacho cheese) were filling the top drawer and from the door of the mini-fridge filled with yellow peppers, cucumber, tomatoes and bananas (“Growing mutant teens need vitamins, okay?”) his own picture was grinning back at him.

It was a random, dorky snap of him hanging from the ceiling in his Hello Kitty PJs and his favorite Iron Man t-shirt, tucked into the waistband so it wouldn’t fall into his face. His hair that was way too long for his liking was hanging down in messy curls and he was aiming the web shooter on his free hand at the man behind the camera, Tony.

On the couch was his favorite blanket and a few books he liked to read in his downtime were strewn across the counter. His work utensils hadn’t been touched since he had last moved them, just waiting for him to get back to work and Dum-E beeped happily when he made him a green smoothie like he always did.

It was obvious that the place had been waiting for him to get back and he realized, with a heavy heart, that sometime during the past year the lab that used to only have one owner had morphed so Peter fitted right in. Tony and the bots and everything had moved to make room for him. And he had pushed them away out of fear of being left out.

-

Being in the workshop now, scribbling away in his notebook while Tony worked on some new tech for Stark Industries felt liberatingly familiar. The bots’ quiet whirring whenever they moved and their creator’s small chuckles or annoyed groans a similarly calming background noise as May shuffling along in the kitchen was back in Queens.

He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed this.

“¿Terminaste?”

“Claro que sí.”  Peter looked up with a cocky grin, finishing the last sentence on his assignment with a flourish before throwing his pen on the desk and watching it roll a good bit until it came to rest just short of dropping off the table completely. He pushed away his notes with an exaggeratedly relieved sigh, “Por fin.”

The billionaire returned his smile fondly and, instead of continuing his own typing like Peter thought he would, he rolled his swivel chair closer, hands unusually fidgety in his lap.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, the casualness from before suddenly gone as he switched back to English.

“Oka-ay,” he dragged the word a little, tasting the question on his tongue experimentally as he tried to figure out where this was going but came up empty. (If he chose to ignore the self-destructive voices in his head telling him he was going to get dumped, which he decided to do.)

”What is it?” he wanted to know, cocking his head to the side quizzically.

That seemed to be all the incentive his mentor needed because his posture changed from uncertain to man-on-a-mission in the blink of an eye as he turned around and started shuffling back towards his desk only to pull out a small parcel from one of the drawers. Without so much as a heads up he threw it over to a baffled looking Spiderling that caught it without a problem.

“Open it.”

While the voice might have sounded a bit gruff to anyone else, Peter thought there was an edge of gentleness there, too, and when he started opening the package ever so delicately he could feel his mentor’s eyes on him, watching him like a hawk.

It was a… t-shirt? Yeah. A plain white t-shirt with some sort of print –

His eyes grew wide when the meaning of the words finally registered in his brain. “So, it’s a… she’s going to be a girl?”

There, blindingly bright and impossible warm, was the excitement over the newest addition to the Stark family that had been shoved aside for some unfounded jealousy weeks ago and it was – it was exhilarating. Every part of his being seemed to be buzzing with a sheer endless amount of love. Right now there was no place for envy, the green-eyed monster in his chest didn’t get any more nutrition.

The big bold letters on the front of his new t-shirt, his most important outfit to-date including his multi-million-dollar-high-tech-vigilante suit, were announcing him as a part of the family he had silently feared he’d be kicked out of to the whole world.

TREAD CAREFULLY, I’M HER BROTHER

Her brother, her brother, her brother – his world kept spinning around the two words like they were the axis everything would pivot around from now on. The center stone of his life moving forward. And it some ways it felt true.

His mentor didn’t seem to realize the amount of emotion and relief he had triggered in the boy and he kept talking, although his voice sounded far away in Peter’s ears.

“Yeah, we had the ultrasound the other day and they’re pretty sure. We even got a few pictures if you… if you want to see them.”

That brought him back to reality, the lightheaded spinning coming to an abrupt and painful stop as he detected the hurt in the older man’s voice.

He looked down, hands that were still gripping the t-shirt tightly sinking down into his lap as he felt the guilt wash over him once more. “I’m sorry… for having been so absent lately. I just –“

“No, none of that.” Tony had crossed the distance between them and his hands came to rest on Peter’s impossibly gently, his thumb hovering over the teenager’s knuckles as if waiting for consent which he gave in form of a barely visible nod.

When Peter looked up, he was surprised to find his vision swimming with tears threatening to fall. It was like all the feelings he had been harboring for weeks, that he had kept close to his chest and that had slowly started to poison his heart were unraveling and he was coming apart at the seams.

But Tony was there.

He was right here, tightening the grip on his hand and pulling him forward ever so slightly until Peter’s face was buried in the crook of his neck and the tears that were now running freely were soaking his shirt.

And through it all, Tony was there, humming gently because he knew the tiny vibrations were the easiest way to calm the shaking kid in his arms down.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Pete,” he continued when the sobs had quietened down to occasional sniffles but his hand that had come to rest on the top of his mentee’s head never stopped the carding motion.

“I – I mean, me being me I was freaking out considerably when you started cancelling all our meetings but then I, uh,” he chuckled, the feeling of his chest moving resonating in Peter’s own body, “I actually started reading some of the books the woman doing the prenatal class recommended and there are actually a few chapters in them about … well, about older siblings tending to feel left out – “

“But I’m not –“

“But you are, Pete,” he interrupted him gently, pushing the boy upright until he could meet his puffy eyes, “Or at least you are if you want to be.”

He let Peter have the choice, watching him patiently without trying to push in one direction or the other. If he was being honest, though, it wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a choice he had to consciously make because in his heart he knew what he wanted and so he nodded, timidly.

“I do,” he whispered, voice barely audible and sounding oh-so-young.

The answering smile was radiant and the hand that had moved down to rest on his shoulder tightened its grip momentarily.

“That’s,” Tony grinned – an outright, full-teethed grin that split his face in half – “That’s great.”

It almost felt like this was it because normally the genius didn’t linger in the area of raw emotions any longer than necessary but apparently the parenting books were already making their mark on the usually emotionally constipated engineer because he kept going, voice turning serious once more and impossibly loving.

“No matter what happens with our principessa, though, I want you to know, that her joining this family doesn’t make you any less a part of it. Pepper and I could have another 3 kids, get 5 dogs and an abundance of cats and you would still be my kid. No matter what happens or who comes and goes, I need you to know that nothing is going to change that. You’ll always be my kid. And, I’m being completely biased here obviously, but I think my baby girl is truly blessed to have you as her big brother.”

The tears were back but instead of closing his chest up and making him choke they were freeing and cathartic, washing away all the unnecessary hurt from before.

“Thank you,” he sniveled, nose buried in Tony’s t-shirt, “I’m so sorry for just – for assuming, I don’t know. I’m just –“

“Nah, I told you none of that, kid,” the billionaire replied easily, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of his head before burying his nose in Peter’s curls and breathing him in, feeling like coming home for the first time in weeks. “Believe it or not this is actually a normal behavior so for once you’re acting like normal kids your age and I think we should celebrate with ice cream and a movie.”

He snorted and jabbed, “Great parenting, dad, just fill up your kid with ice cream after every emotional conversation ever.”

“It’s called positive reinforcement, look it up, smartass,” was all he got in return and then, without any prior warning, he was being picked up. With an undignified squeak he buried closer into his mentor’s chest, arms and legs clinging to the man whose hands were resting lightly on his back as he was carrying him upstairs.

“So, what’s it gonna be, Underoos. Stark Raving Hazelnut or Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge,” he asked once he had dropped his precious cargo on the couch in front of the TV.

Peter buried deeper into the familiar blankets, instructing F.R.I.D.A.Y. to pull up Rogue One, as his mentor went to get their ice cream ready.

Together they curled up, happy in each other’s presence and when Pepper joined them later, making herself comfortable on Peter’s other side and he got to feel Baby Stark kicking for the first time ever, there was nothing but joy in his heart.

-

(On the back of the shirt is a picture of the Iron-Man helmet and "iron kid" written beneath it in Tony’s handwriting. Peter doesn’t know it yet but Baby Stark will get a similar t-shirt, with a different front but the same back. In turn, Tony will be getting the “iron dad” version of the design (in Peter’s chicken scratch) for Father’s Day. He has never worn anything prouder.)