#hence no day 13 or today's fic posted yet

[querenciasturniolo]

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

[memberment]

The End Is Near (/ Bound?? Maybe??)

Good morning everyone.

What???

Memberment saying good morning at 9:30??? Instead of going to bed at 9:30??

Yeah I don't fuckin know what happened I went to bed at 3 bc I needed to wake up my approximation to early (1) for a work event and somehow that translated to me waking up at 8.

ANYWAYS. I'M A GOOD CHUNK INTO BOOK 2. I LOVE THEM AS PIRATES LIKE THEY'RE SO FUN.

Updates on this post bc I'm silly. I may duo write today and get more of Bound done because I absolutely need to or I'm gonna start screaming. Also the rest of The End prologue is coming out at some point today (my approximation of today).

Hi guys it's 11:13. I've been going at The End since I got home. I'm 11k deep into book 2. Which is fucking insane bc the og book 2 was 15 (ish)k.

I still have clown makeup on and y'all are gonna fucking HEAR ABOUT IT in my end notes on Dandelion LMFAOOOOOOOO

11:40: I'm here to rant about something else but it's not even really just a rant but an observation I need to share. I don't rlly give a shit about my stats, I just like to write yk. But it is insane to see that Eclipse gets such a wild amount of attention even on not post days (it is popping off today, hence my thought bc I haven't given this much thought previously) compared to everything else. Which is crazy to me because I put, like, a month of blood sweat and literal tears into Dandelion and it's not doing as well and I literally wrote the entirety of Eclipse in four fucking days out of spite because someone said something that mildly pissed me off.

And now I'm thinking about it and I genuinely miss writing whole ass fics in the span of under a week. I need to take on shorter projects after I finish all of the fucking monsters I'm working on. Like Ca$h4Cultz and A Girl and Her Dog NEED TO FUCKING HAPPEN!!!!! (I love both of these concepts so much and they're both so bad but I will be standing by them as they get posted under my pseud.)

And now I'm sad bc Morning Glory? Probably 200k. Maybe more. Probably more.

Trinitarians? 250k. Easy. And that's not to mention the art that IS LITERALLY A PART OF THE FIC. (Yeah, you guys are MVP so if you're actually reading these and have yet to catch on, heads up. The art is part of the fic. Like, it's not art to go with the fic. It is literally PART of the fic. And it's not super important, but those invisible messages suddenly make way more sense. (If someone actually catches it before I explicitly state it, I will lose my shit LMFAOOO.))

Princess of Fire? Probably another 150k.

And The End was 90k but now it's probably gonna be something like 110-120k.

LIKE HELLO???

I just wanna work on short bangers that don't feel like I'm taking years to write LMFAOOO I MISS THE OLD DAYS. (I was literally writing short bangers a month ago idk what I'm on about, time is weird.)

AND THAT'S NOT EVEN MENTIONING KEEP LOOKING. (I am not working on Keep Looking for a while though because I honestly didn't wanna fuck it up while working on huge projects that I preferred working on, but it is not getting abandoned. Y'all will get your AO3 paladin eventually)

1:42 am update: hi friends I'm going insane how do I write and draw for genesis at the same time

[kerosenecrushh]

20 questions for fic writers!

Tagged by @sensitiveheartless (kind of, they left it open at the end to anyone who wanted to do it)

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

40, as of today!

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

79,131

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly Bungou Stray Dogs, but I occasionally write for My Hero Academia and Sk8 the Infinity as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

tastes like candy

raw

Kinktober Day 4: Praise Kink

Kinktober Day 3: Dirty Talk

wanna get out of here?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yep, pretty much always! The only times I don’t are if someone leaves a one-word comment or I’m not sure how to respond lmao. I love when people show their appreciation for my writing, so I try to show that gratitude by replying!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I wouldn’t even necessarily classify it as angst, but the Fyolai Blood Play fic didn’t exactly end with aftercare and cuddles.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much all my fics have happy endings. I hate sad endings with a burning passion, so as a treat to myself, I just don’t write them!

8. Do you get hate on fic?

I haven’t so far, thankfully! I have had people comment vague stuff about being “traumatized” by my work, but that’s mainly people who didn’t expect to find smut, I think.

9. Do you write smut?

Yepppp haha, in fact I’ve only recently branched out to writing SFW stuff.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I haven’t yet, but I wouldn’t rule it out for the future. I just haven’t felt inspired to write one so far.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, but I have seen a fic that HEAVILY borrowed from one of mine. It pissed me off a bit, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that these things happen.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t think so. No one’s asked me if they could translate any of my fics, at least.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I’m curious what that would be like. So far I’ve only ever worked alone in the writing process, so think it would be challenging to adjust to working alongside someone. Again, not something I’d rule out though!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Man this is tough. Fun fact, I have a Pinterest board for ships with 26 subsections of specific ships, so there are plenty to choose from here. Soukoku and BakuDeku are ones I love to write and consume content for, but my favorite to actually write would probably be Ranpoe. They’re just so fluffy! I always feel better after writing a fic about them.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but probably won't?

There’s this one idea I had based on a BSD theory that ended up being wrong. It would essentially be a long multi-chapter fic where abilities were written out of existence, so the story restarts at the beginning and the characters all eventually find each other, even without abilities or past memories pushing them together. So, for instance, Kunikida would still be a math teacher; Atsushi would never have been kicked out of the orphanage; Yosano would (interestingly enough) be working at a candy shop; and so on. I don’t know that I’ll ever get around to writing it, since it’ll take a TON of research on the canon materials. I’ve started the planning phase but it truly is a mammoth of a fic. Link to my theory if you’re interested in the details.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think characterization is a strength of mine. I also typically have a first draft that’s like 95% ready to post, since I edit while writing. I usually do a quick read-through, change a word here or there, and post.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Non-character details (like setting). I get too caught up in the action! I can also be impatient with transitions between scenes, hence the massive amount of one-shots.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I’ve translated one word for a fic, but even that felt a bit cheesy when I did it. I try to avoid it, since there’s almost definitely native speakers out there cringing at literal translations and google translate errors in fics.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The first one I wrote for was Bungou Stray Dogs, and that remains the one I write for the most!

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Kinktober Day 31. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I must have read it at least 5 times now. I’m really proud of how it turned out.

Following @sensitiveheartless’s example, I hereby tag anyone who sees this and wants to do it! Have fun!

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Paths, Avenues, and Secret Tunnels // S.B. (celebration fic)

Request: 6 & 13 from the fluff section with sirius black at hogwarts (location). 💛 - anon

Fluff 6: “Are you... Are you flirting with me?”

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

A/N: Here’s your request! I hope you like! This one got away from me if I'm honest but I struggled with it so much in the beginning that I'm happy I found my flow. I don’t think I’ll be posting a fic tomorrow, I’m not sure yet, I have a ridiculously busy day so who knows! However, as always, I hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of an attempted harassment, swearing, self-defence, shitty parents, BUT THIS IS FLUFF, I PROMISE (there’s even a make out scene for you all)

Word count: 3.3k

Most weekends at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry could usually be spent in the neighbouring, picturesque village of Hogsmeade. Students, in their droves, descended upon the wizarding village – all ready to spent their knuts, sickles and galleons on whatever took their fancy in the array of shops that neatly lined the small high street.

For many of the students in Third Year and above, they relished the chance to spend a whole day outside of Hogwarts. You would have liked to have gone with them, but in a fit of anger your mother and father flat out refused to sign the yearly permission slip meaning that your visits to the small, sleepy village had been put to a stop.

You maintained fiercely that their punishment was unjustified. Your use of magic outside of school was perfectly reasonable considering that the man they had tried to set their daughter up with for an arranged marriage was nothing short of a creep that had to be put in his place.

Your reaction to the unsolicited attention of the repulsive man caused nothing smaller than a war between your parents and yourself. They felt humiliated that you should act such a way in front of a respectable, eligible gentleman who had taken the time out of his busy schedule to come to dinner and meet with you. You felt nothing short of fury at your parents for thinking you would ever go along with archaic traditions that should have died long ago.

It led to your parents taking the one thing that you looked forward to every school year away from you. In front of you, they tore apart the permission slip and threw it onto the fire where you watched as it turned to grey ash.

Your weekends were now spent either in the common room or the library; working on your homework, studying for an exam or simply reading to pass the time. By the fourth Hogsmeade weekend of the year, you had explored the castle enough to attract Filch’s unwanted attention, so you decided to reign in your exploits to the parts of the castle you knew were safest.

The common room had quickly become your safe haven after the third time you were questioned by Filch. Both the morning and afternoon of any Hogsmeade weekend spent reading over any work and napping periodically by the fire.

Stretching out on the couch, you finish reading over your notes from Potions, making a mental note to ask Slughorn whether you could borrow his classroom next weekend to test a theory that had come to you only a few moments ago. Another Hogsmeade weekend and you had made doubly sure to keep yourself occupied through it all – happy to see your friends off; already sick of their pitying looks.

“(Y/L/N)!” Sirius shouts; jumping the back of the couch and settling next to you.

“Sirius, how can I help?” You ask with a smile; turning to face the teenager you’ve known since the two of you were in nappies.

“I can’t help but notice that you haven’t been seen in Hogsmeade for a while now. One can’t help but wonder…”

You laugh, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask me considering our parents are like this,” You cross your fingers together; indicating just how close the two families were – Sirius’ mother visiting yours for tea at least three times a week.

“What happened?”

You sigh, clutching your book to your chest, “My parents cruel and unusual form of punishment.”

“What?”

You smile at the memory, “I jinxed the guy they were trying to marry me off to, so they tore up the permission slip in front of me and threw it onto the fire in a fit of dramatics.”

“Why did you jinx him?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“What did he do?” Sirius asks; voice low and lethal.

You sigh, “His hands tried to wander under the dining table. They didn’t get very bloody far before he was met with the finger removing jinx,” You huff proudly, “See how far he gets without the counter-jinx, the prat.”

“But you’re okay? You weren’t hurt?”

You shake your head; smiling at the care in Sirius’ voice. “I’m fine, I promise,” You reassure, “However, my parents thought it fitting to tear up my permission slip to Hogsmeade hence why I stay in the castle every weekend.”

Something in Sirius’ chest loosens at your words; happy to know that you’re okay and that you gave the creep what he deserved but he frowns at your parents response. “Did you explain to your parents what he tried to do?”

You fix him with a look that tells him of course you did, “They refused to listen; not someone like him,” Your voice takes on a higher pitch as you mimic your mother, “He’s such a responsible man from a wonderful family – I don’t know how you could do this to him.”

Sirius snorts at your impression; noting how accurate it is. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs.

You wave his apology with a swift movement of your hand, “I’ve gotten used to it now. You wouldn’t believe how on top of homework I am.”

He laughs, “Still, all the same.”

“I know,” You whisper.

Sirius pats your knee; he gestures towards the door with his head where his friends had walked through only a moment ago, “I better…”

You nod, “Of course. Go! Go – have a nice time.”

Sirius throws a small smile your way before he leaves the common room.  

For the first time in the five weekends you had been unable to visit the humble village; you had never hated your parents more.

-------

Sirius Black continues to play on your mind in a way he hasn’t done since your crush on him in Second Year when you were smaller and more naïve. The friendship between you was a lifelong one; families being so close that there was no other option but to get along as your mothers would drink tea and gossip and your fathers would conduct business in offices away from prying eyes and ears.

Your feelings for the elder Black sibling became news to you when you were turning ten years old. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to hold his hand longer and to hug him whenever instead of in greeting or in farewell – innocent daydreams of a child.

Nothing like the daydreams you now found yourself occupied with whenever you happened to find yourself staring at his mouth that little bit too long or when you zoned in on how his hands would run through his long hair and thought about what it would feel like between your fingers.

Your feelings for Sirius Black came surging back; knocking you breathless and leaving you feeling half way mad. He seemed to take over your mind; thinking of him constantly and not all the thoughts completely innocent. From a  simple smile in your direction, he had you feeling like a fool in love. From the smallest piece of attention he could give you, he had your heart in your throat.

Soon enough, you were admitting to yourself that your crush from Second Year had returned stronger than before and that there was no doubt about it. You were arse over tea kettle in love with Sirius Black.

He starts to spend his Hogsmeade weekends with you. Starting slowly; leaving the Marauders every now and then before eventually stopping joining them altogether. They all share a similar look one Saturday when instead of joining them at the door to the common room, Sirius joins you in your familiar spot on the couch.

Sirius waves to James, Remus and Peter as they depart for Hogsmeade; each of them shouting promises of bringing back sweets from Honeyduke’s as well as a surprise from Zonko’s. Sirius shakes his head at his friends before turning his full attention to you.

You smile softly at the disowned heir to the Black family fortune; repressing the growing urge to run your fingers through his hair, to kiss him senseless – to do anything with him really.

“What are the plans for today then?”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to do this Sirius, you can go be with your friends.”

Sirius waves his hand in a dismissive fashion, tutting, “I see them all the time. I live with them remember?” He shakes his head, “I like spending time with you.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your smile at bay, “I was thinking of finishing the book I’ve been reading.”

Sirius throws his head back with an overdramatic groan, “We did that last time!”

“And I’ve started a new book since then!” You sigh, “Like I said, Sirius, you don’t need to stay with me.”

“I want to spend time with you, but we don’t need to spend all our time here,” He says, gesturing to the dark red walls of the common room.

“I’m not bothered here. Every time I left the common room, Filch would always bother me.”

Sirius frowns, “Well we’re going out today,” He pats your leg, standing up, “Come on. Up you get, we’re off on a walk.”

“A walk?”

“A walk. An amble. A dawdle. That thing you do with your legs. Whatever you prefer to call it.”

You snort, “I know what a walk is, Sirius.”

“Then why ask?”

“Don’t make me regret coming with you.”

He grins at you, “Never, my dear.”

Sirius holds an arm out to you which you take; hooking your elbow through his. He sets off at a slow pace; holding the door to the common room open for you like the gentleman he was raised to be before leading you down the corridors.

With most students in Hogsmeade and the First and Second years occupied with a Quidditch training camp being run by the Holyhead Harpies, the corridors of the school are relatively quiet as you and Sirius continue your walk through the school that’s more of a second home rather than a place of education.

“Are your parents still angry?” Sirius asks out of the blue.

“I couldn’t care less though; it was self-defence and I’m happier for it. but you know them; there never was a couple who could hold a grudge like dear old mum and dad.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I reckon I could beat you.”

“How have you been since that night?”

Sirius looks off into the distance; mind immediately returning to the night he had walked out on his family, on Regulus. He had told you about when the school year had restarted after the Easter break.

“Good,” He eventually says, “I’m living with James’ family now. I’ve always been welcome at the Potters.”

You nod; happiness washing over you, “I’m glad you’ve found somewhere, I was worried when you sent me the one letter.”

“I wanted to send more,” He says, voice pained, “But I didn’t know if your parents would be nosy.”

“You were right not to,” You sigh, “Since they heard about our friendship rekindling, they keep looking at me as if I’m going to run any moment.”

“Would you?”

“Would I run away?”

He nods; pausing in his steps. You stop alongside him; thinking over your answer, “It depends. If I have to sit through another arranged dinner and possible marriage, then happily. If my parents suddenly see reason, then perhaps our relationship could improve.”

“How long have they been trying to marry you off?”

“Since I turned seventeen so just over a year since my birthday is one of the first of the year.”

Sirius chuckles humourlessly, “I’m glad I got out when I could.”

You nudge his shoulder, “All it means is that your life has taken a different path, Sirius. But I know whatever you decide to do, it will be the right path. It’s you walking it after all; it can’t be bad if you’re the one walking it.”

Sirius doesn’t reply to your words. He’s too overcome by your words to even think of replying. Out of the fallout from his family, the one thing he was concerned about was how it would affect your relationship with you but when he saw you after Easter and all you did was pull him into a tight hug, he knew that everything would be okay and that you would be going nowhere.

He doesn’t need to say the words out loud to accept them; he knows that he has fallen in love with you. Sirius realises with a jolt that he has most likely always loved you; only coming to the realisation since spending more and more time with you over your parental imposed school grounding.

Sirius doesn’t know what path his life is going to take; he has the Marauders and he knows he has them for life – very little coming between them to split them permanently. But through it all; through all of his late night worrying and upset, Sirius hopes and hopes that your life starts to wander down the same path as his.

By this time, you’ve circled the courtyard, ready to make your way to Hagrid’s Hut and beyond. Both happy enough to now spend the rest of your day dawdling around the castle; talking everything and nothing – simply spending the time with each other. The feelings that are harboured by the both of you simmer in the small space between your bodies; spoken yet unspoken.

The conversation from earlier, and the tension, has dissipated leaving behind a light, fun atmosphere that lets you see the best of Sirius. As a result, he has your heart thumping in your throat to the point where your pulse sounds in your ears.

It’s when he makes one comment about your closeness as children that has a particularly flirty tone and meaning that has your back straightening in realisation, “Are you… Are you flirting with me?”

“I might be…” Sirius comments with a smile.

“Not even you could be so cruel, Sirius, to bring up a childhood crush like that and play with my emotions.”

“What childhood crush?”

“Tell me you knew?”

At the blank expression on his face and the curiosity alive in his eyes, you let out a laugh, “I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids… even when we started Hogwarts I had a crush on you! You had to know, surely?”

He shakes his head vigorously, “I had no idea about it.”

“Oh…” You trail off.

“It was reciprocated if you were wondering.”

You sit up straighter, “It was?”

Sirius blushes; pushing his hair back from his face, “It was.”

Silence falls between the two of you. You’ve both stopped walking; steps paused in the middle of the corridor – hardly any sound around you other than the occasional hoot of an owl and a laugh from a young student. For what feels like forever, you simply stare at each other.

Your stomach turns with anticipation; readying yourself for the question you’re about to ask. Taking a deep breath, you break the silence with a single question, “And what about now?”

“Now?”

You nod, “Are those feelings reciprocated now?”

“They might be…”

“They might be, or they are?” You ask breathlessly; his words setting aflame the hope in your heart.

“They are. They really are.”

“Thank Merlin,” you gasp before pulling Sirius into a kiss by the hem of his t-shirt.

He responds immediately; taking control of the kiss as his lips glide against yours seamlessly. There could no arranged marriage, no relationship you could ever have that could compare to this one moment. In this one instant, all is defined, and you know that at almost eighteen, Sirius Black was to be the one for you.

A hand runs through his hair as the other anchors itself in his t-shirt; finally getting to feel his hair after so long craving it. With a slight tug of his dark locks, you smile against his mouth at the groan you elicit from the back of his throat. You file that piece of information away for later when it can be explored thoroughly. Entirely wrapped up in him, you give yourself over to him, letting his familiar scent of cloves and sweet orange wash over you.

Breaking the kiss, Sirius rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath and letting the contentment wash over him. He places kisses over your face – your nose, your cheeks, your forehead before finally pecking your lips in an open mouthed kiss.

You beam up at him; happy to have this moment with him in a quiet school where you won’t be interrupted by students, teachers, or ghosts alike.

With a wide grin, Sirius drops his hold of your waist to take hold of your hand and begins to lead you back through the corridors and to the moving staircases. Laughing, you match his pace as you run up the stairs, taking extra care for those that start to shift.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask with a loud giggle.

“It’s a secret,” Sirius says; turning quickly to face you. He places a finger to his lips in a hush. Then and there, you have to resist pulling him into another kiss from the look on his face; the utter delight spread over it combined with the intense mischief and elation alight in his eyes has your heart beating even faster.

Saying no more, you continue on your journey, letting Sirius guide you every step of the way. Arriving on the Third Floor, Sirius turns left, pulling you towards the statue at the end of the corridor. The statue of the One-Eyed Witch had always left you feeling uneasy; as if she was watching you with her one remaining eye – it seemed to follow you wherever you stepped.

Sirius stops in front of the statue; staring up at her for a moment before fixing his gaze on you. His hand comes up to brush your cheek, “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls. However, I know that your reaction to what I’m about to show you will even pale the brightest galaxy.”

You duck your head; uncertain of what to reply, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer emotion in his voice. Sirius tips your chin back up with a single finger, “Fancy going to Hogsmeade?”

You shake your head, “Sirius, I can’t. My parents, remember?”

“I remember just fine. Still, fancy going to Hogsmeade?”

“How?”

Sirius points to the statue of the one-eyed witch, “Through there.”

“Sirius, I love you but that’s a statue.”

He smirks, “It’s good to know you love me, but I need you to say the magic word.”

“And what’s that?”

Leaning close to your ear; so close that his breath is warm across your face, he whispers a single word. You find it hard to concentrate with him so close; his front pressed to your side. His lips brush against your ear and you let yourself arch into his touch as you try to focus on the word being whispered.

“Got it?”

Nodding your head, you step towards the statue. Your hand still wrapped in Sirius’, you whisper, “Dissendium,” Your voice barely louder than a breath.

You take a hasty step back when the hump to the witch opens, revealing a small slide leading into nothing but darkness. You turn to Sirius in awe; a large smile on your face, “How did you?”

Sirius simply shrugs, “I have my way, love. Now, Hogsmeade?”

Tightening your grip on his hand; tugging him into a long kiss, you can barely contain your elation with the teenager now pressing against you. Breaking the kiss but remaining close enough that your lips brush his as you whisper, “I’d go with you anywhere.”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear

Masterlist

Agony.

Losing you is agony.

Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.

He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.

His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.

When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,” Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”

Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.

Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:

“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”

Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

[bsinoranges]

In which it gets sappy

Tagged by the amazing @lethesomething!!

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

So uh. BS is actually short for bittersweet, but now it doubles as my in-joke for BS in whateverCourse -- hence the in. So BS in oranges.

Then it’s bittersweetoranges because i read this fic called bittersweet and it was damn good to me at the time. Also my favorite fruit is orange.

...I’m bot good at giving names nor titles. Haha.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos).

Hm. Overall, that would be my KuroYachi one-shot The Lights in the Sky are Stars. It was sort of my love letter to the KuroYachi ship, and so I’m not entirely sure if I’ll be able to add on to it.

For subscriptions that would be my still unfinished brofest piece, The Thief, the Witch, and the Fae. This one is my bid at making an interesting take on certain characters and dynamics in a dark fantasy setting. Futakuchi is the lead if only because @haruhi02 accidentally gave me his name when I asked for random characters.

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

A freezing link from Breath of the Wild. Well, why not? Haha. I love Link, I love Breath of the Wild, and when I resurfaced back on tumblr botw recently came out and also the free icons.

(the rest is under a cut because it’s long and sappy)

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

Well. I won’t name favorites. Frequent commenters tho... they’d be my friends from chat, so shoutout to @lethesomething and @haruhi02 because you guys are great.

To be fair, I don’t think I post frequently enough for people to keep their eyes peeled for me.

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

Boy, do I. Basically anything in my bookmarks are the things I regularly return to read. Quite notable, however is anything by bigspoonnoya. God. I love her work. From the HQ to the BNHA to the YOI.

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

I bookmark more than I subscribed. Buuuuuuuuut I’m subscribed to a grand total of 4 works, and I’ve bookmarked 62 fics.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

Fantasy. Hands down. There’s three-ish urban ones, then there’s two full-on fantasy pieces. The rest are slice-of-life.

There’s just something about fantasy that makes me really happy. It might be the freedom to make, or that I like using fantasy as a substitute for when I want to comment on current events. But usually I like writing things that are fantastical.

Someday I want to make write a slice-of-life that makes the mundane fantastical, and then vice versa. If only because it’s the little things that steal my heart and imagination every single time.

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

Four wonderful people are subscribed to me, while 12 are subscribed to my stories. For bookmarks, I have a total of 24. ^^

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

Many of my topic matter don’t really make much, if any, waves -- at least that’s what I think. I’m only afraid I can’t do justice to my dark/fantasy elements, because that would be a real shame.

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

First it’s definitely finishing what I start. My multichaps aren’t incredibly long, but I worry a lot about continuation and future chapters that it spoils writing the present one, so I hope to work on that.

Next is my exposition and narration. I can only say “Name smiles.” so much before I think I write in a horribly stale matter.

... Does writing romance or any sort of sexual or romantic contact count? Cause, boy do I need practice.

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

Is YamaYachi popular? KuroYachi? I’m pretty sure they’re an okay and accepted ship. But in any case the rarest pair I’ve written is KuroYachi, and then KamaFuta. Because those pairs need more content, and I’m pretty willing to fill them.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

I have 9 works in total. Five of which are completed oneshot, and the other four are unfinished multichaps. See the trend yet?

One of the finished oneshots is the longshot Nowhere in the Sea. It’s the first fic I finished in my whole 17 (at the time) years of living.

Of my unfinished things, one of them is an anthology (that I should probably close since I’m not planning on updating anytime soon) and then the three fantasy pieces that has a lot Worldbuilding™.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

H A H A.

Hm. So, I switch between Google Docs, Sublime Text 3, and OneNote. But there’s a whooping 17 unwritten stories in various states of disrepair.

I’m most excited for the YamaYachi one, and also the sprawling ensemble cast one. :D

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

I mostly keep them in my head. So they flit in and out of my memory like deadlines. On the rare occasion that I’m possessed by the idea, I’l have written the idea down and then some on anything I find convenient at the time (laptop, phone, or paper.)

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

Yes. @haruhi02 was my partner for the hq fantasy fest thing. She was with me when I finished my first ever fic Nowhere in the Sea.

16. How did you discover AO3?

I was friends with this author back in FF.Net, and she had an AO3 account. Then, I branched off her fics to read the FE:A fics.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

LOL. Of course not. I can say, with confidence, that I am probably obscure.

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

Hm...

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

Fun fact, the first fan fic I wrote was an unfinished novelization of the Swan Princess (Nest Family Entertainment), and then an illustrated re-telling of Barbie’s Princess and the Nutracker. I started seriously pursuing writing around... the grade 5, when my bully of an English teacher said I had a talent for writing. If I had any it remains to be seen. But it was my friends back on FFnet. The likes of Mafi, and Tune, and Loke. They were there for me during my baby days writing for a fandom. We weren’t in the same fandom, but they inspired me so much.

Also I really like Philip Pullman and J.K. Rowling and thought it would be awesome to publish and write books.

Today though, it’s my friends in the chat who continue to inspire me everyday.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

I don’t think I’m qualified. But if I should, it’d be to stay strong and welcome to addictive cycle of happiness and misery. Because there’s nothing like writing that one perfect scene -- it’s worth all the stress and the struggle.

Also. Writing is like wine, it get’s better with age, but it doesn’t mean that you like wine.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

I plot a lot. Like a lot. But I throw out a lot through the window when push comes to shove. Sometimes I’ll outwrite what I’ve planned or plan something new and then I’ll get flung into a crisis. Haha. Fun.

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

The worst comment I’ve had is spam on Nowhere in the Sea. I just wish I had more comments. #NoShame.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

Smut. A bit of action, but action is easier than doing the sexy.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

I’m focusing all my energy on Amor Fati, which is my gift for the fantasy exchange. I need to finish that because it’d be sad if I didn’t. And, most importantly, I want to make my giftee proud.

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

The plan is to keep up with my plans. I have no shortage of plans. Hahaha. But I do plan on finishing up Amor Fati then finishing either Scales or The Thief, the Witch, and the Fae before moving on to other projects.

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

Nope. It would probably be better if I did, but acads just eats a lot of my time.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

I think it’s arrogant to think that I did, but I guess I did. I was 13ish -- two years after fifth grade -- when I took writing more seriously... And looking back my writing style changed. ^^

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

I love all my stories for different reasons. To be honest tho, it’s what I haven’t written and am yet to write. I love The Thief, the Witch, and the Fae for it’s dark and heavy atmosphere. Scales for its hesitance and its secrecy. Amor Fati for the melancholy and for its world. Nowhere in the Sea for being my first in a lot of things (but also it’s magic system and world gdi). Lights in the Sky are Stars for it’s sweet fluff. Class Pizza for its tomfoolery. So on and so forth.

As much as I have a hard time looking at my writing, I won’t deny that I love them for the things that they are and could be.

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

... Probably my anthology? It reminds me of bad memories.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

Here, still suffering but instead out of school (hopefully) and knee deep in some sort of job.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

The planning and the talking and the crying and the reading.

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

The writing. Or maybe that point between the first scene and the third. Something like that.

33. Why do you write?

Why don’t I? Writing is me. I’ve did things for the sake of reference, I’ve devoted a lot of myself to writing and the idea of writing. I love it. It’s an amazing way to express.

I wouldn’t give it up for the world.

Sooo. For tagging. @spacegaykj and @astersandstuffs and @slothesaurus if you guys don’t mind ^^. Feel free to ignore if you want. Thank you for the time.

Also double tagging @haruhi02 because I can.

[katie-lyn]

Infected - Chapter 1

Summary: Dan and Phil have been best friends for their entire lives, but now as teens, how will they survive when the dead begin to rise and the world falls into madness? How will they live in this brave new world? Will they be able to do what is absolutely necessary to survive and face the consequences of this harsh reality? 

Warnings: mild violence

PG-13

Word count: 1,632

Note: The Walking Dead takes place in a world where zombie media never existed, hence why they call them walkers among other things instead. I am going to take that page from their book because I think it is a good choice story-telling wise. Title also based on an episode title from TWD.

Note 2: This is my first fic on this blog. My first fic in a long time. I’m excited and nervous and I hope people enjoy this! Please, please give me feedback and let me know what you think!

Also, I had this whole thing typed on my phone then tried to post it and my tumblr app crashed so yay I rewrote the whole thing on my laptop and hopefully this posts. It was probably a little better the first time, but whatever. I’m still happy with this. First chapter below the cut!

Phil is a seventeen year old boy. He has a fairly normal life. He goes to school. He has friends. He’s pretty deep in the closet. He’s in love with his best friend Daniel, whom he’s grown up with since they were tots. Okay, perhaps his life has had a few small hiccups or inconveniences, but all of his problems were peanuts compared to what he woke up to today. He walks downstairs and hears the news channel on in the living room. There seems to be mass panic happening. He walks into the room and finds his parents full attention on the horrific scene on the television. The dead were rising. It was beginning not all that far away from where they were. Currently, they were being told the CDC was working on something and to just remain safely in their homes until further notice. Phil’ s mind went straight to ‘this has to be some kind of joke. April fools? No, it’s September. Well, there has to be some logical explanation’. But he saw it with his own eyes. The shot of the dead in the street. The footage of one of them attacking a woman and several of them ganging up on her, biting at her, her falling to the ground afterwards, and them continuing to tear her apart, pulling her apart, inside out, quite literally. He’s never seen anything so graphic and disturbing. Phil is a horror movie fan. This was not faked. There was nothing like this and he knew what special effects looked like, this was not it. This was real. It was on every channel, probably across the world. It was estimated to be a worldwide epidemic in only a few short weeks if a solution wasn’t found very swiftly. The military was going to take action very soon if need be. This was real. He was not dreaming. He checked by pinching himself very hard.

Naturally, the first thing Philip does is exactly what the professionals are telling everyone not to do. He goes outside. They aren’t sure how this has started, if it’s airborne, some sort of disease, contagious, etc.. Plus, the dead could be anywhere. They were confirmed in certain places, but of course they could be anywhere and maybe just not reported there yet. However, Phil makes a direct beeline to Dan’s house. Dan lives just right next door. Phil just goes straight in since he knows he is always welcome there. “Oh, dear, have you heard the news?” Dan’s mother asks him as she looks over when she hears him enter. “Yeah, I have. Is Dan still in bed?” Phil asks the woman who is truly like a second mother to him. “Yes, he is,” she replies before turning her attention back to the news, wanting all the available details. Phil rushes up to Dan’s room. He doesn’t know why he’s relieved to see that Dan is okay. As if he already would’ve been outside long enough to have been bit. Yeah, right. He’s still asleep, of course. Dan always sleeps in. Phil lays down beside him in bed. After only a few minutes, Dan begins to open his eyes, already unconsciously shifting closer to Phil for warmth and cuddles. “Morning… When did you get here?” Dan mumbles sleepily. “Only a few minutes ago,” Phil whispers. “The world has truly gone insane. You’ll never believe what’s actually happening right now,” Phil murmurs. “I dunno, Phil. Trump is president in America. Lemme guess; nuclear war that we are now a part of?” He glances up at Phil, truly half expecting to be correct. “That’s a valid guess,” Phil admits. “But no. Literally, you will never guess.” Phil takes out his phone and just shows Dan the captured footage of the woman being attacked that has been all over the news from the YouTube app on his phone. Dan’s jaw drops. There is no denying the reality of that clip. The bloodcurdling scream of the woman, the way they scratch and bite her, the way they tear her open and apart alive, until she isn’t. There’s no faking that. Phil slips his phone back into his pocket once the clip ends. “They’re telling us all to stay indoors until, like, they figure out a way to deal with them. But it’s spreading quickly and the military could possibly be getting involved if it comes to it.” He doesn’t even really realize it, but he holds Dan closer as he explains. He’s just always had this compulsion to take care of the younger boy. Dan was two years younger than him and they’ve been inseparable since Dan’ s birth, basically. Their parents are very good friends, and they are next door neighbors. They’re closer than could be. “Holy shit,” Dan mumbles, instinctively nuzzling closer to Phil. “Wait- Does this mean that school is canceled?” Dan asks, glancing up at Phil, small smirk playing at his lips. “It actually does!“ Phil tells him. “Yes!” Dan laughs. It wasn’t real yet. It hasn’t truly hit. It hasn’t affected them directly yet. It was just a few small occurrences happening elsewhere. They could still laugh and have fun for now. But the threat was growing and spreading and getting closer to everyone, everywhere. It had only just begun.

-

Fast forward two weeks and things have truly gotten bad. Shit has officially hit the fan. There is no cure. There are more walking dead people than the military know how to deal with. People are dropping by the dozens. It is no longer safe anywhere. People are locking themselves indoors, boarding up their windows, barricading their doors. People who haven’t stocked up on months worth of food in the last weeks are surely about to regret it because good luck getting to the store now. No one will probably even still be working at the store now, you’d just have to loot it. Phil hasn’t been outside in a while now, but he knows the outside world is insane these days from the news that still runs on television and the radio. Phil and his parents have all moved themselves into the Howell’s home. It’s bigger, so they have more space to spread themselves out. The Lester’s have brought all their food and resources over as well. Everyone is now very, very afraid. Dan and Phil still feel quite secure, though. They have a good thing going here. They had stocked up on food, so they have plenty still. They feel they’ve protected the house quite well, did a good job boarding it up. The only concern was: how long would this go on? What if it went past when they do run out of food? What if one somehow breaks in through a boarded up window? No one is really sure how to kill these things, or how to protect themselves against them yet, so would they all just die if one got in? What would they do? All Phil knows is that he will die before he lets anything hurt Dan. Soft, sweet Dan. He would 100% protect him with his life. If something wants to get to Dan, it will have to go through him first. 

-

Dan did not take any of this seriously at first. But now that his house has essentially become a bunker, well- there’s only so much denial you can have. He’s now been with his own parents and the Lester’s all cooped up in his home that is all Fort Knox-ed out for a full eight days now. On the bright side, he would never complain about spending so much time with Phil. They have always been closer than platonic teenage boys typically are. They cuddle, sleep in the same bed when they spend the night together, even the odd kiss to the cheek or forehead sometimes. It probably has a lot to do with how they’ve been close since they were in diapers, but also they were just madly in love and the only ones who couldn’t see it were each other. This is a very scary situation, but Dan feels safe and secure where he is. Their home feels safe right now, Phil is always beside him which always brings a feeling of security, and all four parents are here. They both truly feel as if they have two mothers and two fathers. They both grew up with each others parents so much that they even call the others parents mom and dad. The parents all feel the same about both boys, caring about the other as much as if he were their own. They’re all one, big, loving family. Dan is very worried, though. He’s always had some severe anxiety. What are they going to do when the food is gone? What will they realistically do if one of those things gets in through a window or something? It is actually quite likely that it will happen. Whenever they make a loud sound, they can hear the dead banging on the glass of the windows, It already sounded like the glass was beginning to crack the other day. Sometimes it sounds like there’s only one out there, sometimes it sounds like more, sometimes it seems like all is fine outside their home. But how long will it take for a large enough group of them to gather around and cave in a part of their sanctuary? How long do they have here? Phil seems to sense Dan’s nerves because he holds the boy closer to his chest. “It’s going to be okay, Danny, okay?” He whispers and presses a small kiss to the top of his best friends head. Dan nods very faintly and nuzzles close, taking solace in his friends calming words and aura. They were safe for now.

[atanih88]

FIC: Piece by Piece - Chapter 1 (Marvel MCU, Tony/Peter)

Title: Piece by Piece Pairing: Tony Stark/Peter Parker Rating: Explicit Chapter: 1/13  Summary: Three years after the end of the Infinity War, the world prepares to celebrate its third anniversary of freedom. The world doesn't realize that the heroes who fought for them are a little broken. But hey, maybe broken together, is better than broken and apart.

Notes: Written for Marvel Big Bang 2018 and originally posted on my AO3. Go there for full fic. Will be posting one chapter a day here.

CHAPTER 1

Work functions aren’t what they used to be.

Tony’s never been a fan of them but it’s ten times more awkward when there are things he has to attend and that Pepper has to attend and—Tony ends up by the bar, glass in hand and watching Pepper and Martin. Martin who is Pepper’s fiancé. Who Pepper started dating a year ago. Martin who wasn’t really supposed to get anywhere with her because of course, Tony would’ve found a way to win Pepper back and move on with life post the whole Thanos destroying the world and Tony’s life thing.

The damage to the world had been reverted. The damage to Tony’s life, not so much. But hey, one out of two wasn’t bad. At the time Tony had counted it as a win. That’s what being a superhero is about right? Making sacrifices, losing things in your personal life for the greater good of mankind etc.

‘Mr Stark?’

‘Hmm?’ Tony blinks and turns to the man standing in front of him who is glaring at him, face mottled red. It really doesn’t suit him, especially with the necktie looking like it’s choking him and the white hair topping the man’s head. Tony doesn’t remember his name.

Before he can remember it though, FRIDAY’s voice in his ear snatches his attention. ‘Mr Parker has exited his building. Karen is monitoring progress.’ Tony closes his eyes on a sigh. When he opens them again it’s to flick a look at the time on his wrist. It’s 12.13 AM. Roughly the same night as every night since this started happening.

‘FRIDAY, I need a lock down on his location as soon as he stops. Keep me posted.’

‘Yes, Mr Stark.’

Tony pulls off the glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah. So not what he needs tonight.

‘Mr Stark.’

Mottled face guy is staring at Tony, looking even more pissed off than he had just a few minutes ago and Tony really doesn’t care.

‘Oh. Sorry, I think I missed the last five minutes of that convo, but good talk!’ He walks away as the man splutters and tries to get him back.

The event is one that Tony would’ve avoided at all costs if it hadn’t been for Pepper hounding him day and night.

It’s a celebration. A celebration of the day Earth’s mightiest heroes managed to claw their tiny little corner of the galaxy back. All the people here are laughing and taking pictures together, waiting for the great unveiling of the memorial that has been kept out of the public eye for the year it’s taken the government to get it ready all for today. There are fireworks at the ready and a speech by the President. Tony doesn’t want to be here for any of it.

It’s one of those typical glittering things, diamond earrings and expensive gowns, men in tuxes and stiff, immaculate waiters weaving their way through the crowds with their trays of canapés and champagne. Tony figures he’s done his good deed, he’s shown up, schmoozed a little. He thinks he may have even made the two hour mark. He’s more than earned his escape. So he starts making his way towards the exit, brushing off hands with a smile and giving out a few harder than necessary back pats along the way. Besides, if every other Avenger has managed to duck out—even Rhodey declined, then he figures he gets a break too.

He hates these things. Doesn’t particularly like the people either.

What they saved the world for, huh.

By the podium, Pepper spots Tony and makes a quick motion for him to wait. She puts a hand on Martin’s shoulder, her mouth curving gently as she says something to him. Tony tries not to think about how she used to smile like that for him.

Before.

She looks beautiful, dressed in a long white fitted gown that flows with her every step, shoulders bared by the sleeves that fall off the cusp of her shoulders and hair swept up. Pepper has always been a stunning woman.

‘Tony,’ she says when she catches up to him, hand already reaching for him before she catches herself. She lets her hand fall back to her side. The ring on her finger is like a miniature star under all the lights. Pepper catches him looking and her fingers curl in on themselves. She smiles, it’s too soft and there’s an awkwardness there when their eyes meet. The smile becomes stronger, like she’s determined not to let the strain show. ‘You’re leaving?’

Tony tucks his hands into his pockets and makes a show of looking around. ‘Yeah, this crowd’s too wild for me,’ he meets her eyes, ‘besides. You’ve got this.’

The smile on her face wobbles and then slowly, fades into something quiet and sad. ‘You could stay? We could—’

‘Pepper,’ Tony says, quiet and reaches out to briefly touch her hand. He rubs a thumb over her ring, gentle, reverent. There’s a dull ache in his chest. ‘Martin’s waiting for you.’ He drops her hand and smiles at her. ‘I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Make sure things don’t get too crazy. Be good.’

And then he turns around and heads straight for the door.

He needs a drink.

~

It’s easy to spot Peter.

He’s not hiding.

It’s not the highest building Peter could’ve picked but it’s high enough that they have a decent skyline view of the city, the Hudson reflecting the city lights and the deepness of the night sky.

Tony steps onto the roof easily and is out of the suit and walking towards him before Peter even turns around to look at him. Not that he needs to. Whatever powers that spider bite had given the kid have only grown sharper as the years have gone on and Peter’s spider sense is ridiculous. He’d probably heard Tony coming from a mile away.

Tony steps up to the edge where Peter’s legs are dangling over the side of the building. Peter’s swinging them back and forth. He’s got his mask in his hand and he hasn’t looked up at Tony yet. His hair is standing straight up in places from yanking the mask off. The breeze is cooler up here but not particularly strong. Tony slides his hands into his pockets and stares down at the top of Peter’s head.

Peter’s filled out a bit over the last couple of years. He’s gained a few inches for one and since entering training under the Avengers Initiative, he’s gotten more toned, his arms more defined. There were blogs dedicated to Spiderman’s ass - or so Tony has heard. His face has stayed the same though, always expressive with his emotions stamped for everyone to see. Tony kind of wants to see it right now, to try and understand what Peter’s thinking.

‘It’s kind of quiet tonight,’ Peter says. It’s startling to hear his voice after standing there and listening to the New York night. ‘You don’t have to be here, Mr Stark.’

Tony shrugs, even though Peter’s not looking at him. ‘Don’t have another place to be just now, kid.’

That makes Peter tip his head back and give him a look.

Peter looks—Peter looks tired. His eyes are dark in the night and serious. Too serious. The skin under them thin and shadowed.

‘You’re supposed to be at the anniversary party. I know that’s where you were. Karen told me,’ Peter says.

‘And you’re supposed to be in bed. You’re a college student Peter.’

Peter sighs and kicks a leg out. ‘I’m fine.’

‘It’s the seventh time this week.’

‘That’s called stalking, you know.’

‘What’s going on Pete?’

Peter shrugs. ‘It’s nothing, Mr Stark. I’m just tired.’

‘So why are you here, looking for fights to pick with petty criminals that the police can take care of instead of in your bed trying to sleep?’

Okay so that comes out a bit harsher than Tony means it to, but it’s been a long night and the lead up to the anniversary bash has put Tony on edge.

Finding out that Peter’s been walking around like death warmed over hasn’t helped anything. Tony had been hoping it wouldn’t be anything serious but three weeks since receiving a call from May telling him she thought Peter might be struggling again, the problem clearly hasn’t gone away. Hence why Tony is now standing here, approaching 2 AM, trying to pry the issue out of a kid who could bench press Tony in his car.

A muscle ticks in Peter’s jaw as he clenches it and Tony watches as Peter bunches his hands into fists before forcing them to relax again.

‘I don’t want to worry May.’

Alright. So they might get somewhere. ‘What’s going on that May should be worried?’

Peter is quiet for long enough that Tony thinks he won’t say anything else. Then he shifts, turning so that he’s facing Tony, curling one leg under him and leaving the other dangling. When Peter meets his eyes his shoulders are slumped. ‘I thought they’d stopped, you know? I mean, I haven’t had one in like, months. I don’t know why they’re coming back.’

Tony considers getting down to sit next to Peter but—well. The thought of folding down and having to get back up—sue him if he’s feeling a little lazy. His knees aren’t what they used to be. ‘Nightmares are back huh?’

Peter’s throat bobs as he swallows. He drops his gaze and nods. ‘A few weeks back. I thought—I thought maybe they’d go. The shrink said they might come back sometimes but that they would go again. But they’ve been non-stop.’

Tony’s not the only one who’s been on edge. It grates on him, that he didn’t think this might be affecting them, all the others who had been on the front line. Especially Peter.

‘So what,’ Tony sucks it up and tucks his hands into his pockets, ‘you were just planning on not sleeping for a while? ‘Cause that’s smart.’

‘No, I just—’ Peter runs a rough hand through his hair, ‘I just wanted to keep busy. It’s fine. I’ll go home now. Try again.’ Except then he goes to push himself up to his feet and when he stands, Tony’s heart jumps into his throat as Peter sways on the spot, eyes going hazy and unfocused for a second.

‘Whoa there,’ Tony shoots forward, locks his hands around his Peter’s arms, ‘Pete?’

Peter’s hands come up, hands coming up to cup Tony’s elbows, gripping tight. ‘Um. Sorry, just. Everything is kind of moving right now.’

And despite this, Peter had been swinging around the city doing his friendly-neighborhood-spiderman schtick. Tony presses his lips together to keep from starting a lecture right then because it makes him feel older than he likes to feel, but mostly because he doesn’t think it would even really sink in right now.

‘Okay, that’s it. Let’s go. You’re coming with me.’

‘What? Mr Stark—’

‘Zip it. We’ll discuss this later after you’ve gotten some sleep.’

‘I don’t want May to—‘

‘I meant as in you’re coming home with me.’