#i was immediately inspired but then got distracted by spiders

[cryptid-crawly]

hi i love your fics. i have a thought for you:

toshinori being strong even in small might form. this inevitably translates to him carrying izuku around.

izuku carrying all might around. just this tiny broccoli bean and the tall scarecrow sunshine man that is his dad ON TOP OF HIM.

that is all.

ask (vaguely mention an entirely TRUE and CORRECT concept in my direction) and you shall receive (maybe. with 1-2 months processing time.)

thanks for reading my fic ;n; and this idea is, as stated, absolutely TRUE and CORRECT

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!

Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe

Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈

Have a great day!!!

Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦

Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.

It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’

Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’

‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.

So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.

After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’

So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.

‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.

He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.

You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’

‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.

[skipper1331]

Spider // Alexia Putellas

a/n: inspired by a tik tok I saw, but sadly can’t find anymore!

Early on in your relationship, you learned that Alexia wasn‘t afraid of anything - the complete opposite of you.

It was you who hid in the crook of her neck when you watched horror movies,

it was you who sent her downstairs when you heard some weird noises,

and it was you who had a night light on when she was away.

Seeing Alexia scared or frightened had never been on your agenda as you had tried to scare her multiple times already, her reaction always the same, "I know you‘re there" or "don‘t even try it, mi amor, I heard you"

But the one time you did see her scared was in a way you never expected it to be.

-

You stood in the kitchen as you debated on what to cook tonight.

You weren't the biggest fan of cooking nor the best at it, but since it was an unspoken rule that one night you would cook and the following day Alexia, you naturally stuck to it, especially when you knew that she had training until the evening.

So, as you leaf through the cooking book, you stopped at every recipe you knew Alexia enjoyed, checking if you had the ingredients.

With the music playing softly in the background and your daydreaming, you didn‘t realize that your girlfriend had entered the room. Silently, she walked up behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder while her arms looped around your midsection as she pulled you against her front, "what got you so distracted, mi amor?"

Your body tensed and froze - being frightened before you quickly melted into her embrace.

"I don‘t know what to cook" closing your eyes, you rested your hands over hers.

"What about some simple pasta?" she proposed as she started to press featherlight kisses along your neck, making you melt even further in her touch. In responds you nodded, turning in her grasp, "how was training?" you asked, putting your arms around her neck, the two of you swaying to the music.

Tiredly, she smiled "good but exhausting. I scored some goals"

"Something new" you teased, pinching her cheeks, grinning widely at her expression.

"Stop"

Biting your lip, "Hm? I‘m not doing anything. All I was saying was-"

Leaning in, the Catalonian locked your lips, preventing you from finishing your sentence. Immediately, butterflies erupted in your stomaches while your minds went blank, only focusing on each other.

"If it was always that easy to shut you up, hm?" the girl grumbled jokingly, pulling you back in. Kissing you would always be her favourite activity.

That girl was obsessed with and addicted to you - she could never get enough of you.

She loved kissing you,

she loved hugging and holding you,

she loved talking and listening to you,

she loved protecting and claiming you as hers,

she simply loved you.

After a few kisses, the midfielder excused herself to change into more comfortable clothes when all of sudden a hair-raising, terrifying and horrific scream came from upstairs - Alexia.

"Ale?!" you shouted, grabbing the nearest weapon - a fork.

Running to your bedroom with adrenaline pumping through your body, you prayed that she was alright.

Please let her be okay.

As you threw the door open - ready to fight whatever was behind it - your girlfriend stood on your shared bed, gripping the sleep shirt in her hand and screaming.

"Are you okay?! What‘s wrong?! Are you hurt?! Why are you screaming?!"

Alexia had a look of disgust and fear displayed in her features, "araña!"

At this point, you really should have continued your duolingo strike because you didn‘t understand what she was talking about at all.

"Spider"

She pointed to the wall, her body tense and slightly shaking.

Sighing in relief that it was nothing dramatic, you walked to the wall where she was pointing at, the spider not visible until you were one step in front of it.

"la araña is huge!"

"It‘s tiny" you laughed, shaking your head, putting down your 'weapon' "baby, I thought someone was in here"

"She is!"

"yes but she probably lives here" walking towards the bed, you held out one hand for her to take, leaving your guest alone "she does not pay any bills! She‘s not allowed to live here! Kill it" your girlfriend demanded, crossing her arms yet her eyes not leaving the gigantic monster, "I will not leave this bed until it‘s out of my house"

"Okay" you stated, walking towards the door, intending to get an item that would help you remove the spider.

"Where are you going?!" Alexia‘s voice shrilled, more fear appearing in her eyes.

"Getting a glass" your voice was calm and gentle, not wanting to stress out the footballer even more.

Which didn‘t seem to help.

"Why do you need to drink something now?! Kill the monster!" she panicked, "don‘t leave me alone in here"

"I want to-" you cut yourself off, there was no point in explaining what your plan was as everything seemed to freak out the Barcelona player. So instead of walking out of the bedroom, you walked towards her, offering your hand once again.

She clinged onto you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist, arms holding you around your neck as she hid in the crook of your neck - something that had never happened before.

Roles were reserved - you were the protector and she was the one to be protected because the 'I’m never scared'- girl was in fact scared and very so.

Gently, you sat her down on the couch, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you got a glass and a piece of paper, heading back to your bedroom. You felt Alexia‘s eyes burning holes into back of your head until you were out of sight.

The tough girl was seriously afraid of a tiny tiny spider, somehow ironic.

When you arrived in the room, you walked towards the spot were the spider was - it wasn‘t there anymore.

Slightly in panic, (not afraid of the missing spider but your girlfriends reaction) you thought about what to do. Telling Alexia was definitely not an option and neither was searching for it. The spider was tiny and compared to your bedroom, it would take hours to find it, so there was only one option left: leaving the spider wherever it was and acting like you removed it.

And even though, you were the worst liar and you hated lying, was this an acceptable lie - after all, it was about her safety and peace of mind.

With a plan in mind, you headed to the bathroom. You knew Alexia would hear the flushing toilet and assume you killed the spider, exactly what you needed - for her to think the spider was gone forever.

All you could do now was to hope and pray that you would eventually find it and not her.

Making your way downstairs, Alexia waited patiently at the edge of the couch, "is it gone?" she asked.

"Yes, baby"

"Gracias amor" she got up, keeping her distance as the items the spider had touched were still in your hands.

She followed you in the kitchen where you threw away the paper, about to put the glass in the dishwasher, "what are you doing?!" the midfielder‘s eyes wide, voice high-pitched, "put the glass in the trash!"

"What? Baby, it’s perfectly fine"

"No no no, this will not stay in my house!"

You admitted defeat as you also threw away the glass. The lady needed her inner peace back.

"Maybe we should get some takeout tonight?" you proposed, taking her hand and walking in the living room.

"Sí, that‘s good"

The midfielder collapsed on top of you, hugging your figure as she pressed soft kisses along your jaw, "my hero" she smiled, finally interlocking your lips, showing her appreciation of protecting her. She purred every inch of love and affection into that kiss, thanking you yet also shutting you up as she knew you had a teasing comment resting on the tip of your tongue.

After puling away to catch some air, it left your mouth anyways, "never scared, hm?" you giggled, her cheeks turning red.

In responds, she just kissed you once again, the spider long forgotten as the touch of your lips made her forget everything in the world.

If the spider had still been there, you would have gotten rid of it to protect your girl and though, the plan had changed, the intention stayed the same, so you happily accepted the thank you and love you were getting at the moment.

next day

"AMOR!"

[kt-the-lee]

No Longer Ruined - Hazbin Hotel Tickle Fic (HuskerDust)

A/N hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic on this account, i used to write a fair bit on my old deactivated account but I stopped for a couple years so i’m a little bit rusty, but i just love these two so much that i simply HAD to write for them! (this was also really self-indulgent for me to write so i hope you enjoy AHHHHH)

inspired by this post by @duckymcdoorknob : “We interrupt our usual programming to bring forth Angel Dust who is terrified of being tickled (bc of Val) until Husk shows him that it doesn’t have to always be torturous.”

Lee!AngelDust, Ler!Husk

warnings: very brief mentions of Angel’s job (not very much detail but important context to the story), sad!Angel

Word count: 2,133

One thing about Angel Dust is that he HATED being tickled.

Well, that wasn’t a complete truth. It was his favourite thing in the world once upon a time, but then it got ruined by various jobs that Val made him undergo. And that did make him quite sad, he wished he could have it in his life again, but he feared it was associated with one too many bad memories at this point.

And now, the thought of it terrified him.

This was made all too apparent when Charlie (the resident tickle monster of the Hazbin Hotel) decided to attack Vaggie in the middle of the lobby one afternoon. This was a regular occurrence, and everyone usually watched fondly as the usually stoic Vaggie let herself laugh (that is until the tables turned and Charlie then gets absolutely destroyed, she may initiate most tickle fights but usually ends up spectacularly losing them!). However, this was the first time Angel had witnessed this spectacle.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to watch.

The laughs mixed with screams, the squirming, the panicked breathing, it just sent him to a dark place. Where the masses chuckled and cooed at the girlfriends’ antics, Angel felt his breathing hitch and an unpleasant anxiety building in his stomach. Tears pricked in his eyes and he tried to inconspicuously leave the room, unnoticed. Or so he thought.

“Hey, what’s up, you okay?”

Angel turned around and saw Husk, head tilted, a concerned look on his face. Panic shot through him; “oh shit, did everyone notice me leave? That must’ve looked REALLY fucking weird, how am I going to explain-”

“Relax, nobody else saw you go,” Husk said gently, sitting on a nearby couch and directed Angel to take the place next to him. “Everyone was far too distracted watching those dumbasses wreck each other, although it’s a frequent occurrence it does never get boring!” he chuckled as the laughter from the lobby turned up a notch, but then frowned when he saw Angel visibly flinch at the sound.

“I’ve… never seen ‘em do this before,” he explained as he took the seat next to Husk, tensing up slightly as a paw was placed around his shoulders but immediately relaxed. He trusted Husk, perhaps more than anyone in this godforesaken place. But could he explain this?

Husk looked at the spider with concern in his eyes. He was triggered, clearly, but he couldn’t quite piece together why the girls tickling each other had caused this.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Angel? We don’t gotta, but you know I’d never judge you for anything. We’re both losers, don’t ya forget that, so nothing is off-limits.”

Angel looked up at the cat, debating for a full minute as to whether he was going to indulge. However, as he heard Charlie squeal from the room over from them and physically had to hide his head in his hands, he figured an explanation was desrved.

“I… just…” he stuttered, trying to find the words. “They’ve been ruined for me.”

Husk looked slightly confused. “What have? Tickles?”

“Yeah… there was a week-long shoot a few years back, and it always got taken too far. Lotta ignoring of safewords and not stopping even though I begged and begged and begged, my body felt like it was going to shut down-“ Angel shuddered as he remembered. “I’ve done a lot of weird shit for this job, Husk, ya know? And you know I love to relinquish control. But this, by far, was the one time I felt the most trapped and suffocated.”

The usually stoic Husk felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Sure, tickling was torturous, that was the POINT. But it was also supposed to have an aspect of fun and trust and love behind it, and the fact that Val had taken that from him made him both upset and absolutely fuming.

“Fuck me, that’s intense.” Husk couldn’t find the words for awhile. “And also fully understandable as to why you’d be triggered now.”

A scream and a giggly “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEERE” from Charlie in the other room made Angel tense somehow harder than he was before, and Husk tightened his hold around his shoulders.

“If it’s any reassurance, the girls’ dumba ass tickle fights are nothing like that, there’s a lot of silliness and love behind it and it would never ever get taken that far” said Husk, trying to reassure the spider. “Infact, I’m fairly sure they both love every second of it, no matter how much they protest in the moment.”

“Oh I know that, really I do.” said Angel. “ I know what they’re MEANT to be like, it’s like I said, they were ruined for me.”

Oh?

So that meant…

“You used to like being tickled?” Husk enquired, a slight grin in his voice as he enjoyed the thought of his sweet spider enjoying something so silly. That thought was fleeting as he realised how that was no longer true because of his job, and Val. God. the things he could do to that bastard for breaking Angel like this…

Angel nodded, cheeks burning slightly. “A whole lot, used to ask Cherry for it all the time. But I fear I’m too far gone now, I’m too scared it’ll go too far and people won’t stop.” Angel sighed, and flinched again as the laughter somehow got EVEN LOUDER through the walls (what on EARTH was Vaggie doing to Charlie?). “I want to like it again, I do think about it a lot still.”

“We can try now, if you like?”

Husk looked into Angel’s eyes to gauge his reaction. He couldn’t tell by that one sentence if he had just put the fear of god into him, or hit the nail on the head with exactly the best way to fix this.

Angel couldn’t tell, either. On the one hand, the thought of being tickled again terrified him. He had managed to avoid it as much as he could outside of work, and even in work he would try and steer the content towards other things. However, he knew deep down that he wanted this back in his life. He trusted Husk, so maybe this would be the perfect way to ease back into it? He deliberated, and made his decision.

“Yeah… okay.”

Husk breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, and felt the grin returning to his face as he figured out the best way to do this.

“Anything I should know before we try this out? Now is the time for boundaries, my little spider-” said Husk, a teasing tone already etched into his voice which made Angel chuckle and roll his eyes.

“Stop when I tell you to-“

“That’s a given, dumbass, I was gonna do that anyway.”

That made Angel relax, he wasn’t used to people listening to his pleas. Maybe this would actually be okay…

“Oh… okay! Uhhhh, no foot stuff please, that was always Val’s… yeah. Favourite. So that’d probably send me into a panic.”

He thought for a second.

“Otherwise…. youregoodtogo-“ he mumbled as he buried his face in Husk’s chest, preparing himself. Oh god, what if this was a bad idea? What if he just hated it no matter what? What if he yelled at or hurt Husk? What if-

All thoughts in his head were silenced as the paw that was placed on his shoulder began to walk ever-so-gently around his bicep. Husk traced his entire upper arm slowly and delicately, before moving all the way round to where Angel’s underarm met his ribcage.

“This okay?”

Angel could only nod, a trace of a smile forming on his lips as Husk began to lightly scritch the spot. Nothing too intense, nothing that would overhelm him. But it couldn’t be ignored.

Husk felt the spider tense up below him as he used one claw to dance lazy, gentle circles around Angel’s ribcage. He glanced down to make sure he was okay, but it seemed to be more of a tickly flinch than an uncomfortable jerk away, so he persisted, adding more claws to slowly intensify the sensation.

It was then that he heard it.

The giggles.

And it was just the sweetest sound Husk had ever heard.

In fact, he got so distracted by the sound of Angel’s giggles that he subconsciously stopped tickling him to listen. Which, of course, stopped the giggles.

“Hey, ya didn’t need to stop!” said Angel, surprising himself.

“Oh I know… I just got distracted by something” chuckled Husk, beginning the movement of his claws again, as slow and as gentle as before. Angel tensed and giggled again, but didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

Angel had missed this. He had missed being in a safe place where he was free to be held and just let someone dote on him for a bit. Head empty, no control, no expectations, to just relax and feel happy. He couldn’t help his arm flinching against Husks gentle tickles around his ribcage, but he also noticeably lent into both Husk himself and his paws on his ribs.

Husk took this positive body language and gentle giggles to turn it up a notch, scratching with slightly more intent and pressure, making wigging motions with his paw. He also walked his fingers down from Angel’s ribcage to the sides of his stomach.

The spider’s gentle giggles quickly became slightly louder laughs as Husk did this, and initially felt a zap of panic. However, it was impossible to feel unsafe in the arms of the cat, so he let himself feel the sensations. It wasn’t TOO intense, but it was certainly enough for him to squirm and cackle, especially when Husk added a second paw to mirror his actions on the opposite side at the same time.

“Hehehehehey!!” laughed Angel. “Thahahahat was uncahahahahalled for!!”

“Oh was it now?” teased Husk, feeling a little more confident that he wouldn’t end up overwhelming Angel at this point. “Because I don’t hear you protesting, baby. Infact, I’d probably say you’re having a pretty swell time right now!”

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup” protested Angel, cheeks burning redder than the skies of Hell itself. “Teheheheasing mahahahahakes it wOHOHOHORSE-“

Upon the last word of his sentence, Husk moved both of his tickling paws to the front of his stomach, spidering the spider’s belly like there was no tomorrow. Angel SQUEALED, throwing his head back into Husk’s shoulder as he tried and failed to whine about quite how mean he was being right now.

Despite this, there was one thing that Angel couldn’t deny. Fucking hell, he could never deny how much he’d missed this. To be able to enjoy being tickled again without the fear of boundaries being disrespected and his every part of his body panicking as strangers took advantage of him, under Val’s perverted instruction.

“You doing okay down there?!” Husk chuckled, checking in as Angel arched his back and fell backwards onto the couch. Husk had one paw kneading into an armpit whilst the other made various shapes into his tummy. This seemed to be a killer combination as Angel snorted in his cackles and basically folded his body in half.

The cat slowed his attack to let Angel catch his breath, which may have been perfect timing as the spider managed to breathe out a “Stohohop nohohoho mohohore” through his depleting giggles. This made Husk briefly panic, thinking he had took it too far and this had all been for nothing. But the persistent grin and sniling eyes of Angel reassured him that he hadn’t put a foot wrong. Or, rather, a paw wrong.

“Thahahahat was fun” said Angel, residual giggles still pouring from his mouth as he sat himself up, rubbing the leftover tickly feelings away from his torso. “Might take a few goes and a bit of practice, but it certainly is an improvement to fifteen minutes ago!”

Husk felt his heart melt as Angel cuddled back into him and, as the room silenced, the laughter from Charlie and Vaggie’s ordeal STILL could be heard through the walls. However, now it made Angel smile fondly as opposed to being terrified for his life.

“How are they STILL going?” pondered Husk, shaking his head fondly at the sounds from the other room

Angel shrugged, and laughed as he heard Charlie let out a noise not too dissimilar to a squeal that he himself had produced moments earlier. “Shall we go and observe?”

Husk grinned and nodded, tweaking Angel’s side before taking his hand. Angel flinched and tutted at the cat, but couldnt hide the endearing look in his eyes as they ventured back into the lobby to observe the girlfriends tickle fight.

It certainly was a happy day in Hell.

[killerpancakeburger]

Bloody nose part 3 // Miguel O' Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: You integrate the Spider Society, not without a couple of twists and turns.

Warnings: Swearing.

Tags: Comedy, action, BAMF! Reader, Reader has super powers, slow burn.

Words: 2570 words.

A/N: Some Hobie in this chapter! Can you blame me, he's so cool and funny. It's completely platonic in regards to the Reader of course.

Part 1. Part 2.

The interdimensional portal in your living-room and yourself are looking at each other defiantly. At least if that thing had eyes you imagine it would do that.

You don’t like portals. Not that you ever used one before, but the little you know from fiction inspires you absolutely zero confidence. Whether they come from magic or technology, crossing through time or space like so feels unnatural and incredibly dangerous. What if you end up in an endless void? What if one half of you get stuck on the other side? What if you end up a thousand feet up in the air and fall ineluctably to your death? Your powers cannot protect you from this.

Your niece isn’t here to reassure or guide you, since today’s a school day. You could have waited after school but the sooner you cut all her ties to the Spider Club, the better in your opinion.

You’re doing this for Naomi, you remind yourself, and, with a deep inspiration, you go through the pulsating hexagon.

The whole trip is a torture. You force yourself to let go, just let the current, or whatever is the mysterious force moving your body, carry you to your destination. I hate this, I hate this, I HATE THIS, you mumble to yourself.

Eventually the red and orange surrounding you turn to blue, then to a blinding white light, and the mysterious force transporting you suddenly cease to exist so you… drop like a stone. And crash miserably on the platform coming to meet you. Thankfully, there’s not a soul around to witness your pathetic entrance. You quickly get up, unharmed, except for your pride.

The elevator you’re in happens to be in glass and your attention is immediately monopolized by the views offered to you. Green stretches and futuristic white buildings spread as far as the eye can see. You’re definitely not in Kansas – ahrem, not in New York anymore. You’re so subjugated, you almost miss the elevator coming to a stop and the door behind you opening.

The room in front of you is sizeable, even if its deep whiteness and neon lights give it an hospital like aspect, and full of Spidermen. Women. Teenagers? They’re all wearing their suits and you suddenly feel, at the same time, like a sore thumb standing out, and like you just arrived to a fucking comic con. You start walking, torn between trying to pass unnoticed, and hurting your neck trying to take it all in. You never imagined this place would be so big and have so many people. You may be forced to take those guys seriously after all. All the Spiders walking on ceiling will certainly take you some time to get used to it.

You’re distracted by a cow-boy spiderman whose horse is apparently ALSO Spiderman – Spiderhorse? – since it can walk on the ceiling and wear a mask too, starting to wonder in what kind of mess full of weirdos you got yourself in, when the inevitable happen: you bump into someone.

“My bad”, you apologize immediately.

“No worries, mate”, replies a voice with a thick British accent.

You look up – because, once again, this is someone who’s towering over you – and take in the teenager facing you with an easy smile. Your gaze lingers on his numerous piercings then take note of the spikes on the shoulders of his leather jacket. There’s a punk spiderman? You think to yourself, before taking the good resolution to stop wondering what kind of spidermen exist – obviously the list never ends.

Thankfully the kid doesn’t seem to take offense to your staring as he addresses you in a joking manner:

“Forgot your suit at home? Happens to the best of us. Or maybe you’re Spider-Hoodie?”

It’s your day off and your tracksuit, sport shoes and zip-up hoodie could never pass for a superhero costume.

“I… I’m a new recruit”, you answer with less confidence that you would have liked. What if they consider you an intruder? Sound the alarm and send a thousand spidermen after you to throw you in an interdimensional jail?

“You don’t sound so sure about that”, he raises an eyebrow, eyeing your watch. “You know what you’re getting into?”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll manage, kiddo, but thanks for the concern.”

He raises his hands in surrender.

“Just checkin’, that’s all. Name’s Hobie Brown, by the way.”

You give your own name in answer, but as you go to shake his hand, you stop dead in your tracks.

“You… change colours? You change colours. That’s a thing. Ok.”

You stupidly stare at him as he goes from the traditional blue and red of spiderman to just red to pink to settle on black and white. He chuckles at your confusion.

“You’ll get used to it. So, you know where you’re going, Newbie?”

“I’m supposed to meet with Miguel, I guess.”

Hobie doesn’t even try to hide the antipathy that name seems to evoke for him.

“The big boss man, ‘course. You in a hurry? Cause if you’re not, we could take the scenic route.”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads your lips.

“You’re always looking to make new recruits desert and stand up the boss?”

“Always. Antagonizing the authorities is one of my favourite hobby.”

You laugh frankly.

“That’s terrific. I think we’re gonna get along great. Scenic route it is!”

Along Hobie, you pass through the Spider Society’s jails, or at least the room where they stock what they call “Anomalies” before sending them to their original dimension. You have a look at their “Strength and Conditioning Centre”, which is really just a fancy and stupidly complicated way to say “gym”, but you can’t help feeling eager upon seeing their state of the art weight machines. You meet Hobie’s friends, Gwen, a melancholic yet resolute teenage girl, and Pavitr, a psyched-up teenage boy for who becoming spiderman sounds to be the best thing that ever happened to him. His enthusiasm momently makes you feel weird, reminding you of the not so long ago times where you only saw your powers as a curse, but you keep your mouth shut. Your own experiences aren’t universal and you have accepted years ago that your opinion isn’t prevailing. Not to mention that ruining a kid’s fun would be quite shitty of you.

You also don’t say anything about the alarming number of teenagers that appears to compose the ranks of the Spider Society. Naomi is the only kid who’s your responsibility, and therefore the only one you have any rights or authority over. Thinking back about your own youth, which was the period when you got your powers, you know from experience that stopping a 15 years old with superpowers to do whatever they want is, for ordinary humans, close to impossible.

Eventually your new acquaintances guide you to Miguel’s… –  you can’t possibly call that an office – crypt? Mancave? At first you don’t understand why they stopped since there is nothing in front of you, but then you hear a sound of machinery running and follow the others’ gazes, somewhere much higher than where you were legitimately looking, and finally see the man. He’s standing on a descending platform equipped of a myriad of orange screens, so many that you can’t imagine how he manages to get his bearings between them all, back turned to you.

This is all good and well, except for the fact that his platform is going down at a painfully slow pace that makes you cringe just watching it happen.

“What’s happening?”, you ask the others. You find it hard to believe that with how advanced the technology here seems to be, there’s no way to make this stupid platform go faster.

“That’s his… thing.”, says Gwen. “Don’t mind him.”

You let escape a nervous laugh, the kind you have when you start feeling yourself go crazy.

“Is this a joke? It has to be a joke. Are you guys hazing me? I’m too old for this bullshit.”

The profound silence and the awkward grimaces that greet your remark makes you realize that, no, this isn’t a joke. You don’t know whether to pinch the bridge of your nose or roll your eyes. You want to tell them that they’re all a bunch of crazy freaks in costume and that you never should have come here. Then you grasp that this problem is actually very easy to solve and you leap on the platform. Like you’re in a fucking Mario game.

“What’s up, Miggy?” you force out, with the most insincere smile you can muster, not bothering to hide your irritation.

“Oh, you’re there. Great. Let’s get this over with”, he says with a deadpan voice and an even more deadpan face. That’s when you realize he didn’t even notice your presence until now, too absorbed in his screens. Add to that the fact that he looks like he just pulled an all-nighter. “And don’t call me that”, he adds afterwards, like an afterthought, frowning.

You restrain yourself from telling him he looks like a zombie, and decides to be proactive. The truth is, you learned teamwork the hard way – in the line of fire –, because it never came to you naturally, and you honestly despise it. Nonetheless you know when to put your feelings aside when the situation calls for it.

“Sure”, you start, slowly, testing the waters. ”How about finding some place with chairs and maybe even a table and some coffee? I was sooo excited to join you guys I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

That last sentence is an obvious bootlicking lie that Miguel doesn’t buy, and he looks like he’s about to refuse, so you pout at the best of your abilities, trying to make him understand that you’re more stubborn than him, and he relents in a sigh.

“Alright. Follow me. And you three – he looks severely at the teenagers nearby – I’m sure you have better things to do.”

You bid farewell to the spider kids who obey Miguel with more or less reluctance.  

“Lyla”, he calls out, “Can you tell Jess and Peter to meet us in the conference room?”

You open your mouth to ask who the hell is Lyla, because to your limited knowledge there is no one of that name in the room with you, and leave it open in incredulity when a light in the shape of a woman appears over Miguel’s shoulder and answers him.

“On it!”

“What the fuck is that?”

Alright, that may have been kind of rude, but you’ve had it with all the weird shit around here. You’ve been holding in your comments pretty good until now.

“Lyla’s my personal assistant.” Even if Miguel deigns to answer you, it sounds more like he did it automatically rather than anything else. He keeps walking without sparing you a glance and you follow.

“I’m an holographic AI software“, adds Lyla, who sounds glad to show off.

“You have holograms? That’s so cool… wait. So you’re from the future or something?”

“In my dimension the year is 2099. I’ll explain in details when we get there.”

And so your little trip continues in silence, one which is neither awkward nor comfortable. You think about how Lyla seemed way more chattier than Miguel, so you try your luck.

“Lyla?” There really is something particular about calling the name of someone – something – who you know isn’t there but who you expect to answer nonetheless.

“Yeah?” she replies, materializing in front of you, laying on her back with her hands crossed behind her neck, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Which you supposed should be expected from a computer program.

“You don’t answer only to Miguel?”

“I am available to assist all members of the Spider Society in protecting the multiverse, but Miguel’s requests take priority.”

“What can you do exactly?”

“Sooo many things… I transfer calls between Spider Society’s members, I detect and track anomalies all over the multiverse, I check the state of the canon, I predict the appearance of canon events, I help Miguel create gizmos and goobers…”

You understood half of that but assume Miguel will explain soon the jargon. You chat amicably with the AI while being careful to not lose Mr Dark And Brooding because you know you will get lost.

***

“Did you get all that?”

After listening religiously to Spiderman 2099 for close to an hour and being bombarded with information, you need a moment to get your act together. You feel like you accidentally tore open the fourth wall of reality itself when you shouldn’t have and what you saw on the other side changed you forever. Alternatives dimensions are real and infinites. You are currently in another dimension where the year is 2099 and New York is named Nueva York. The possibilities are endless. Somewhere out there, there are worlds where your sister is still alive. Where you died instead of her in the accident. Where you don’t have powers.

Miguel’s question brings you back on earth, however. To yearn for another existence can only leads to death and destruction.

“Yep.”

Bad answer. He puts his hands on his hips and raises a sceptical eyebrow.

“Did you now?” His voice is dripping with sarcasm and you want to punch him again.

“Yeah I got it. The multiverse exists. Don’t stay in another dimension for too long or everyone dies. Do not interfere with fixed events or everyone dies. Do not let people from other dimensions linger in one that’s not theirs or everyone dies. This is pretty basic sci-fi time travel’s rules. I just compacted your lecture in three sentences, you’re welcome.”

“Che maravilla. Then you can be in charge of giving my “lecture” to the new recruits.”

“I’d say I don’t make a good pedagogue but at least I’ve never thrown a desk at a kid.” You retort without missing a beat, crossing your arms, a sneering smile spreading your lips, staring back at Miguel.

You can’t really be mad at him for the sarcasm, it’s your favourite form of humour after all. But if he wants to play, you’ll give as good as you get.

Once again, Peter plays the peacemaker.

“Heyyy Miguel, didn’t you want to ask about her powers?”

The aforenamed sits for the first time since you arrived in the room, in the chair facing you.

“Lyla, can you take notes of this?”

Lyla makes a military salute.

“From what I’ve gathered firsthand – he rubs his jaw where you punched him – you have enhanced strength. Is your skin completely impenetrable? What about the rest of your body?”

“Enhanced speed, enhanced stamina. I’m almost unbreakable. My muscles and my bones included. My eyes are not.”

“Define “almost”. ”

“The most damage I’ve ever sustained was when I took a shotgun to the head and it knocked me out for a couple days. Otherwise I’m usually bulletproof.”

“What about fire? Are you also immune? Electric shocks? Explosives?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

It’s like having a conversation with your doctor.

Peter lets out an enthusiastic “wow” and Jessica considers you more attentively. As for Miguel, you can’t tell if he’s impressed or satisfied to have a promising recruit. However you’re quickly interrupted in your analysis of his expression as he stands up.

“Get up. Time to show what you’re capable of.”

[breelandwalker]

So you have recommendations for where to research signs of baneful magic having been performed on you or your home? Or do you have a list of signs to look out for just in case?

This is an excellent question (sorry it took me so long to get to it, this month has been BONKS) and it provides a good opportunity to talk about ambiguity and alarm systems.

Most sources that talk about how to detect signs of baneful magic will usually talk about random illnesses, accidents, bad luck, general misfortune, that sort of thing. And while it's true that these CAN be signs of baneful magic being directed your way, it's hardly a foolproof system, as these are also things that can and do happen without any magical interference. Plus, it creates kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you view any misfortune as a sign of being "cursed," then you tend to start looking for more signs and take note of every little thing that goes wrong, including things that you might normally brush off.

The only real way to know for sure that you've been cursed is to literally watch someone perform a baneful spell directed at you. Everything else is the magical equivalent of hearsay and guesswork. (Yes, even if someone TELLS you they've cursed you, since there's also a neat little trick that involves telling someone to expect the worst and then letting them suffer with the anxiety and pessimism, believing that doom is on the way, while you do next to nothing apart from encouraging the assumption. Bit of Headology for you there.) And even THEN, it's not a sure thing, since spells don't work 100% of the time.

In my experience, the best plan is to be proactive and to look to mundane examples for inspiration on how to structure magical solutions. If you want to know whether someone or something has intruded on your space, what do you do? You set up physical indicators and install some kind of security, right? If you want to know whether deer are getting into your garden, you put up a fence high enough to be a deterrent, you check the beds for prints and nibbled produce, and if you want to go the extra mile, you set up a trail cam. So do the same with your magical protections and your list of personal omens.

Add a layer to your home/personal protections that reflects, diverts, or nullifies spells sent your way that are unwanted, disruptive, or harmful. This might take the form of a defensive mirror jar or a ward that burns away or entangles those undesirable spells. It can be something you add to existing magical protections or a separate spell dedicated to the purpose, whatever works best for your needs.

In addition to this, add an entry to your list of personal omens that is specifically for Disruptive Incoming Magic. Make the sign something you're not likely to see on the regular so that you can immediately recognize it when and if it turns up. In all likelihood, you'll never need it because the possibility of actually being cursed is SO much lower than social media would have you think, but it's nice to have the failsafe.

(I fully recommend creating a list of personal omens to any witch who wants to look for signs btw. Make a list with easy-to-spot examples and clear meanings that takes natural occurrences into account. It's a great way to simplify things and not drive yourself to distraction wondering whether that spider on your floor is a Sign of Something or...just a random spider.)

So now you've got your prevention in place and you have an indicator to let you know if something does show up. It's still not foolproof, but it certainly helps.

In the meantime, just remember that witches experience accidents and illness and runs of bad luck with the same relative frequency as anyone else. The fact that something bad / a series of bad things has happened is not necessarily an indicator of the presence of baneful magic. Sometimes Shit Just Happens.

But when in doubt, you can always do a quick cleansing of your space and reinforce your protections to clear away anything unwanted that might be in the space. If nothing else, it's due diligence and it will probably make you feel better.

Hope this helps!

[holden-caulfield]

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓

━ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐗.𝐓. 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

━ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: reader and xavier spend an afternoon together and without knowing what to do, xavier decides to animate reader's tattoos.

━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xavier thorpe x tattoed!reader

━ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃: yes

━ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: reader has tattoos

━ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 745

━ 𝐀/𝐍: i had already started working on this but then you sent me the inbox thingy and now i actually have an excuse to post this sooooo, this one's for you @oeuryale , you genius bestie

It had become a normal occurrence for you and Xavier to spend the afternoons together. What you did didn't really matter as long it was you two.

Sometimes you would spend the day studying together, getting so little work done that you had to spend the next day separated to actually manage to do something. Sometimes it would be him painting and you reading a book, usually out loud so he could hear it as well; sometimes you would just stare at him while he did his thing, making unhelpful comments followed by his snarky comebacks, back and forth like an old couple that never grew up.

But that afternoon you had nothing to do: no exams ahead (and even if there were they could have waited), no inspiration to paint, no interesting book to read. You just sat together on a patch of grass, legs sprawled all over the ground and head in the clouds.

"What are we doing?" You asked, turning your head to look at Xavier, who was looking at the ground with more interest than he usually had in class.

He didn't even lift his eyes, still staring down. "I'm currently counting the blades of grass but i'd be happy to change activity as soon as you find one."

You huffed as you let your head fall on his legs in defeat.

"Now i've lost count." He declared out loud and if you hadn't been so completely bored out of your mind, his comment would have stolen a laugh from you.

Silence reigned again as you stared at the sky above you: bright blue covered by just a couple of clouds, announcing the imminent arrival of summer. Not a bird flying, not a wisp of wind; absolutely nothing that could entertain the two of you.

It wasn't usually like that: even when you had nothing to do, you always found something stupid to do, something at least slightly interesting to talk about. But that day seemed so dull and empty that not even Xavier could turn it around.

A couple of birds appeared in your line of vision, soaring through the sky. A new cloud, darker and grayer than the others appeared out of nowhere, but it didn't worry you. It was when a big blackish spider started crawling up your arm that you got back up, hands struggling to drive away the creature from your arm, immediately realizing what was going on.

"You got anymore of those?" Asked Xavier as you looked up at him with both anger and relief at having finally found a distraction. He pointed at the small tattoos on your arm, the tattoos that were now flying over your head and crawling down your arm.

"You could have warned me, you know?"

"Then it wouldn't have been fun, you know?" He mocked as he crossed his legs and balanced his elbows on his knees, hands supporting his chin. He had a new glint in his eye that matched your own, so he repeated the question. "Do you have more? I vividly remember a snake there somewhere..."

"You're so not animating that snake," you intimated as he leaned closer to you.

"You're no fun, Y/n."

"I do have a couple of dragons however, still interested?" You offered, lifting the sleeve of your shirt a little more to reveal two tiny dragons, imprinted on the skin.

"Now we're talking," he said, preparing his hands, hovering over your skin. "Not as fun as the snake, but it'll have to do for now."

"You are not animating that snake, Xavier." You kept going as small charcoal dragons began flying out of your skin and floating between the two of you.

"Why not? I love that snake." He said, looking at the newest company you had just found. One of the dragons looked him in the eyes with what seemed like a scowl on his little face, as if he was agreeing with you.

"And you know full well that the place where that snake is, is not for the public." You remarked, offering the tiny dragon your palm to rest.

"I am not the public,"

"We are in public."

He huffed, leaning down on the grass but not before smashing his hand against your own, crashing the small creature to nothing.

"Hey!"

He brought his arms behind his head, his characteristic smirk staining his face. "Looks like there's only one option left..."

"Forget the snake," you stated once more. "Not happening."

"Spoilsport."

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[thevindicativevordan]

We know Batman Beyond is a great Spider-Man cartoon, but is it a better Spider-Man cartoon than Spectacular Spider-Man?

Ashamed to admit that when I was first exposed to Spectacular Spider-Man, I didn't like it because of the art style. It took me going back and rewatching it as an adult to really appreciate how good that show was, with the simpler animation style allowing for much more fluidity in the action scenes, along with Spidey getting to actually throw punches unlike the 90s cartoon.

This show feels like the last great Spider-Man adaptation to primarily draw on the 616 source material rather than the Ultimate Spider-Man comics (although those definitely influenced the show as well). My favorite part was the development of MJ copying her arc in the 616 comics. MJ starts out as a party girl and slowly matures over time just like her comics incarnation, as opposed to all the other adaptions of her skipping over that character growth to just pair her and Peter together immediately. Peter himself is great, Josh Keaton would be my default "voice" for Peter if I hadn't already been raised on Christopher Barnes, and I liked how the show wasn't afraid to remind you that Peter could be a real asshole at times. Spectacular Gwen Stacy was the best incarnation of the character because it was the only one to ever give Gwen a personality or anything resembling growth until ITSV Gwen came along. Real shame we never got to see her and Peter together for an entire season because I really wanted to watch how Weisman would portray their romance and how it would end given he's said MJ was endgame.

But the real standout has to be the villains. Weisman's need to tie everything together actually works out well here because the show is focused on crime in a single city rather than an entire universe. Most of the supervillains are connected to Osborn or Tombstone in some way, because the villains are necessary to keep Spider-Man distracted. Doc Ock in this show was fantastic, I'd bet anything that the Insominac version looked to this take as a model, because seeing him go from sniveling sycophant to psychopath was masterfully done. Eddie Brock was the dark reflection of Peter Parker here that the comics have wanted him to be but never successfully pulled off. And of course this show's take on Norman Osborn/Green Goblin was perfect, Weisman and Osborn are a match made in heaven. If there's anyone besides Lex Luthor who can be the vehicle for Weisman's love of villains leaning back in their chairs and going Just As Planned! after the hero deals them a major setback, it's the guy who orchestrated the Clone Saga.

Damn shame this is one Weisman show that has zero chance of ever coming back. Sony's post Raimi movies were terrible but if this show had gotten to continue I would have happily taken it over the MCU movies. Ah well, what could have been right? Perhaps that upcoming MCU cartoon will look to this rather than it's horrid successors for inspiration.

(And much as I like Batman Beyond nah, it's not the better animated Spider-Man cartoon).

[apple-pecan]

Marvel's Spider-Man (2018)

admittedly, i've been pretty apathetic about playstation's IPs since around the early 2010's. a lot of their dozens of good franchises like parappa, jak & daxter, sly cooper, and wild arms have been put to pasture solely so they can milk last of us for all it's worth, and maybe throw some other series like god of war and gran turismo a bone every now and then. i played a lot of third party games on the ps4 but rarely would i bother with any of sony's offerings.

however, one fateful day, sony announced "we're going to publish a spider-man game inspired by the absolutely GOATed PS2 Spider-Man 2. it's gonna be a PS4 exclusive, and we're having the ratchet and clank devs make it" and my instant reaction was "... yeah you fucking BET im buying that shit". i got it close to release but unfortunately for my insufferable weeb self, Dragon Quest XI came out a few days earlier on the same fucking week and i ultimately put way more time into that game and barely touched Spider-Man. 5 years later, with the """remastered""" version on PS5, i set out to rectify that and i am very glad i did.

think of the aforementioned treyarch PS2 game and imagine that with a way WAY higher budget, and you essentially have this game. it starts off with a bang as you immediately web swing your way through new york city to storm fisk tower and put a stop to kingpin. a very fun first impression, and once it's over you can just swing all over new york with some really fun movement; i know when i first got this game i spent most of my time with it just moving around from building to building, it was that much fun.

combat is essentially arkham combat, which was the style at the time, especially for super-hero games, but it feels more tuned up and engaging than what that would usually imply; my favorite thing to do is to air launch enemies and combo their pathetic asses in mid air like im playing MvC. ah, the good old days. sometimes you have to use stealth to progress, but they've made it ass simple so you wouldn't get frustrated, and in most cases it's entirely optional...

...except for the periodic times where you have to play as MJ during the main story. and maybe miles morales too. these are much slower sections where you have to sneak around enemies and distract them to get to the goal, and if one sees you, it's an instant game over. these missions aren't my favorite, obviously, and i DID groan every time one of them was about to start, but i've seen way worse mandatory stealth sections in games (suck my ass wind waker), and some of them have fun twists like MJ being able to lure enemies so spider-man can capture them and web them up on the ceiling.

tying it all in is a captivating and fun story that sure, while some parts you can see coming from a mile away even if you have even just basic spider-man lore knowledge, it still doesn't make it any less engaging. the last third of the game is particularly intense, with impossibly high stakes culminating in a tragic final boss fight and a very bittersweet ending. two scenes of the ending in particular had me on the verge of tears, something i absolutely did not expect jumping into this game. simply put, if you liked the 2000's sam raimi spider-man movies, you'll enjoy this plot quite a bit too.

all this being said, if you own a modern sony system (or now, even a PC that can handle this game), it's a no brainer, you HAVE to play this, especially if you have any fondness for the franchise it's based off of. this is the best spider-man game i've played yet, and this is coming from someone who played BOTH PS1 games!!!! play it!! or, more likely... you already have. i mean, it IS the best selling ps4 game of all time so... aw heck PLAY IT AGAIN THEN

9/10

NOTE: i dunno who's idea it was to make j jonah jameson into an alex jones-esque insane radio show host, but whoever it was, i just wanna say... FUCK YOU. at least you can turn it off in the settings XD

[lovelybarnes]

get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

-

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

-

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

-

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

[starkermeup]

The game of multitasking

inspired by this prompt

AO3

taglist: @nerdylocksandthethreebears @muse-of-gods @tonystarkisntaslut @starker-oasis

Tony loved distracting Peter. It was one of his many joys in life. Whether it was kissing the young man's neck when he was trying to study or giving the boy a blowjob while he's on the phone with his aunt, Tony loved it, loved seeing the boy's eyes turn dark with desire and cheeks red with embarrassment. Loved seeing what kind of sounds he can pull from Peter. Especially in situations that absolutely did not call for it.

Peter didn't mind it, not really. He liked when the older man was handsy and acted like he couldn't keep his hands off him, made Peter feel wanted and pathetically horny. But sometimes, like right now, he'd really wish the man would take a hint.

"Not now," Peter says, moving away from Tony's advances. "I have a co-op mission to play and I can't have you distracting me."

"Come on, baby, you know I get hard when you push those little controls," Tony teased but he didn't edge off, instead he pulled the boy further into his lap, making Peter pout.

"Tonyyy, I'm serious. This is an important mission for our party and I have to be focused. Ned and everyone else are counting on me to do my part." Peter explained and slid his headset over his ears.

Tony gazed at the imagery on the flat screen, barely able to gauge what he was looking at. He never understood the appeal of video games, but then again he was Iron Man who dealt with real life horrors on a daily basis so he didn't have a need to see them virtually. Peter obviously didn't share the same sentiment, despite being Spider-Man, loving video games and had gushed like a kid on Christmas when Tony bought him a PlayStation 5. The boy was so happy, kissing Tony all over his face before immediately hooking it up and calling his friends to tell them the news. Even if Tony didn't care for it, he would do anything to keep his young boyfriend smiling.

"I just want you close, okay? My hands are staying put." Tony says, emphasizing his fingertips on Peter's waist which made the boy jump.

"Please, just keep your hands in place and don't say anything weird. I'm putting Ned on the mic so you have to behave." Peter warned but Tony could see the blush on his cheeks and couldn't help turning the boy's head to kiss him. Peter gasped and Tony slipped inside, licking his tongue and mouth open. It only lasts for a moment before Peter is pulling back, his eyes dark and face red. Tony licks his lips, staring at him, and gets an glorious idea.

"I won't do anything baby, go ahead and play your game." Tony says with a smile and Peter stares at him unsure, like he's trying to read his older lover's mischievous expression. But just as he was about to respond, he heard a voice in his headset.

"Peter you there?" Ned's voice comes through and Peter's attention is back on the screen.

"Yeah, I'm here. What's the game plan?" Peter was immediately in game mode after that. Tony could tell in the way he leaned forward in his lap, unintentionally backing his round ass right on Tony's crotch. He already felt himself getting hard from the warmth in his lap, but he shook it off, for now.

Within the next few minutes, Peter becomes completely captivated by his game, only speaking into his headset and pressing buttons on the controls. Tony, on the other hand wasn't quite as captivated by Peter playing, though he did always find it interesting watching Peter play games with nearly the same determination he'd seen with Spider-Man. It was quite pleasing, but not as pleasing Peter in his lap.

The boy had a habit of rocking his hips into Tony every time he got excited playing and it seemed to happen alot and Tony got harder with every rock. He had taken to rubbing Peter's hips tenderly, slowly lowering his hand into the boy's boxers. Peter didn't seem to notice, still engulfed in the screen so Tony takes it a step further. He presses a kiss to Peter's neck while sliding his lingering hand into down further and grips one of the boy's ass cheeks.

Peter lets out a sharp gasp, hands momentarily still on the controller. He stares back at Tony with narrow eyes that were meant to be a warning but it only egged Tony on.

"Play your game," Tony says with fake innocence and a knowing smirk. Peter looks back at the screen, face reddening.

Tony massages Peter's cheek for a whole minute before getting impatient. He slipped between the boy's crack, stopping when he finds his hole and marvels how it's still wet from the load Tony busted in him earlier that morning. He easily slips a finger in and the teen jolts.

Peter slams a hand over his own mouth to cover up his shameless moan. Tony doesn't stop his movements, even slipping another finger inside Peter's needy hole.

Peter stares again at the older man and he looks wrecked. He moves the headset away from his ear. "P-please, f-fuck, don't stop- I mean stop, I-I have to do this and oh god-" his speech is cut off when Tony's finger graze against his prostate and he bites his lip hard to stay quiet.

"I'm not doing anything honey, focus on your game, your team needs you right?" Tony says, not easing up on his fingering for a second.

"Peter, where are you? We need you in the next room." Ned's voice comes through in Peter's still covered ear.

Peter stares at Tony scandalized by the man's ministrations but diligently responds to his friend.

"Y-yeah, I'm coming right now. My controller glitched for a moment." Peter's attention once again returns back to the screen but his hips follow Tony's fingers in a shy motion.

Tony smirked, twitching at the effect he was having on Peter. His boy was so cute when he was horny and was downright adorable when he tried so hard to not get distracted. It was even more fun to make him break.

The man pulls his fingers out abruptly, Peter gasps, but his eyes stay glued to the screen, probably thinking Tony is done having his fun and he can finally play his game in peace.

However, the thought quickly goes up in flames as Tony leans Peter over the coffee table, spreading his cheeks so he can see his pink little hole in all its glory, still so wet, Tony's cock twitches. He can't hold back anymore. He lines up with the needy pucker and presses fully in on one go.

"Fuck baby, still so tight for me," Tony groans, Peter's insides clinging to him like vice. Like they didn't want to let him go and it gave him the idea of letting Peter cockwarm him but that was for another time. Right now, he wanted the boy and thrusted a little as he bottoms out.

He peeks over Peter's shoulder and realizes that the boy is no longer playing, rather holding the controller in one hand and uses the sleeve of his button up to muffle his moans. Tony's tsks at the display and promptly pulls Peter by his lithe hips until he was sat full on Tony's lap and cock.

"Mr. Stark," the boy pleads with big brown eyes and Tony takes note of the pretty unshed tears under them.

"Peter, if you keep stopping you're gonna disappoint your friends. Don't be rude," he says, fucking the boy with one thrust that lands right to his weak spot. "Finish your game, understand?" Peter nods helplessly, quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Peter's a wreck for the rest of the game, biting his lip with every thrust and only speaking one word answers via headset. Tony kept up his pace, fucking the boy steadily and pressing soft kisses on his neck. He was so close he could even hear Peter's friend on the mic, trying to maintain Peter's attention. It gave Tony another idea.

"...There are more monsters coming from the left...."

Tony moves the head piece from Peter's right ear, licking it. Peter gasps, not expecting it, but ignores him regardless.

That is until Tony starts spilling his own words into the boy's ear, counterparting his friend's.

"Okay, so we just have to kill the boss and his minions. Don't forget to loot them too and..."

"You take my cock so good honey, your needy hole isn't happy if there isn't a cock in it hm?"

"We should get him at long range so let's climb the stairs. I lost too much health in the basement. Peter, can you give me a health boost?"

"It's like you were made to my little fuckdoll, mine to fuck whatever I want and you'll always let me, isn't that right baby?"

"Yes," Peter simultaneously says to both questions. Pressing controls and bouncing his ass down to meet Tony's thrust. He whimpers outwardly as Tony pounds him but doesn't stop playing. Tony is impressed with his growing ability to multitask while being fucked but he wants all of his boy's attention.

He wraps a hand around Peter's neglected hard cock, and Peter yelps loudly, taken back but Tony doesn't stop, squeezing the boy's cocktip, pre cum dripping between both their spread legs.

"Yeah I know, this boss is not only hard, he's really hideous too. Don't worry we'll get him though. His health bar is lowering." Ned chirps, mistaking Peter's yelp for one of fear.

Peter's hole squeezes Tony's cock hard rather than responding to his friend, much to Tony's delight.

"You thought you were caught didn't you? Thought your friend heard you cry out like a needy whore and found out that instead of focusing on your little co-op, you're focused on getting fucked like a hungry cockslut? Your teammates would be ashamed of Peter." Tony taunts in his lover's ear. He couldn't help it, he loved seeing Peter get all worked up because of him.

"He's almost dead, a few more shots, people!"

Peter is silent but he's practically vibrating on Tony's lap, smashing the game controllers violently. As if to hurry along this game so he can properly ride Tony's cock. The older man takes his hand off Peter's hard rod, reaching around him and sticks two fingers in his mouth that Peter welcomes immediately, sucking the tips of his thick fingers and rolling his tongue around them.

Tony swears, unable to hold back any longer. He places both of his hands on Peter's hips and pounces into his delicious heat at full force.

Peter yanks the headset off whines, gripping the controller like he was trying to break it.

"Please, please, fuck I'm going to come. Tony please let me, I need it so bad," Peter babbles, his determination for his game evaporating, he cocks his head towards Tony for a kiss which the man gives him. Tony licks into the boy's mouth, appreciating his eager kissing back and how his little plan had worked like a charm.

Tony pulls back and the boy whines again, much to his amusement. "Okay baby, I'll let you come... once you win," Tony says, jerking Peter off in motions that match his strokes.

Peter's eyebrows furrowed, determination returning to have but for a completely different reason. He's playing again but his focus is only on the slick feeling of his cock in Tony's large fist.

Somehow he manages to stay sharp until the screen reads "YOU WIN" in huge letters. At that, Tony squeezes his tip and Peter moans as he comes, some landing on his hands and controller. The sticky controller slips from his hands and he leans forward, using the coffee table for leverage as Tony fucks him with abandon.

"Congratulations Peter, you win. Now here comes your prize for being such a good cockslut," Tony says, shoving in and out of Peter so hard the table shakes.

"Y-yes, please, I want it sir, Tony, give it to me," Peter pants, mind mush while still in post orgasmic but his cock already hard again.

"That's it baby. I'm gonna give it to you, fill you up nice and deep, just how you like it and fuck," Tony groans deep, hips halt balls deep inside Peter as he empties his seed.

Peter cries out as he feels himself being filled with hot cum, eyes teary as he comes untouched again. Tony pets his hair and moves the teen around until he's laying on his back on the coffee table. Tony holds Peter's legs in his hands until his cockhead pops free from the opening. Almost immediately cum waterfalls out but Tony catches it, feeding it back into the boy's needy hole.

"Now, wasn't that better than a co-op?" Tony smirks, kissing his lover's lips.

Peter pouts but there's no heat behind it, too fucked out to be upset. "Remind me to play video games when you're at work for now on." He says and grabs Tony's face until they're kissing again.

Little do either of them know, Ned's still talking to himself on the long since abandoned headphones.

[rumblelibrary]

I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there  on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort? 

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language. 

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

[beifongsss]

jealousy [sokka]

Pairing: Sokka x firebending!reader

Summary: You like Sokka. Like, reaaaaally like him. However, any time you feel like you’re ready to confess your feelings, it seems as though he finds himself wrapped up in yet another romance.

this was originally the first atla fic i ever wrote and it was inspired by Dreamer Boy’s song “Puppy Dog”!

.masterlist.

~

The first time you decided to tell Sokka how you felt about him was when the Gaang had finally reached the Northern Water Tribe. You had been debating over whether or not to confess to Sokka for weeks, ever since you had visited the village where Aunt Wu resided. She had told you that you would be a powerful bender and that your love life would be immensely successful because you were meant to end up with a guy with a heart of gold and the spirit of a warrior. When she had added that he would be a nonbender, you had just known it was Sokka and all the skipped heartbeats and butterflies you felt around him finally made sense. As the waterbenders opened the gate and Appa drifted through, you had asked to talk to Sokka. Katara and Aang were distracted by the snowy city around them and Sokka had obliged, sitting beside you as you took a deep breath to ready yourself.

“Sokka,” you began, nervousness coursing through your veins as you took a deep breath. “Listen, I li-”

“Look!” Katara interrupted, pointing at an ornate looking building. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Sokka, who had been leaning over Appa’s saddle to get a better look at what his sister was pointing to, sighed dreamily as his gaze settled upon a teenage girl in a gondola. “Yeah, she is.”

Following his line of sight, you sighed in defeat before bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them.

~

You decided not to bring your feelings up again until the Gaang got to Ba SIng Se safely. You were feeling more confident by the minute, at least you were until you reached the ferry station.

Your confidence dropped back down when you discovered that Suki and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors were there as well, noticing the way the pretty girl looked at Sokka. The whole time you spent in the ferry station and the beginning of your journey through the Serpent’s Pass was spent in silence, causing Katara to worry. Eventually, she had coaxed your secret from you, looking at you with a mix of amusement and repulsion when you told her you liked Sokka.

“Really? Him?” Katara asked, looking at her brother who was currently arguing with a twelve year old. You blushed fiercely and looked away. Noticing your expression, Katara quickly tried to fix her words. “I mean, him? Yeah, he’s a dream.”

You stifled a laugh as you noticed Katara’s pained expression. “It’s alright Katara, you don’t have to be nice about it. We can’t control who we like.”

“I’m sure he likes you too,” Katara said softly. “He’s just a little slow. Plus, you’re pretty good friends, he wouldn’t know how to approach you romantically.”

You opened your mouth to reply but instead found yourself letting out a sharp yelp as the ledge you were standing on gave out.

“(Y/N)!” Katara screamed as you plummeted, making everyone stop and turn around. “Toph, do something!”

Your fall came to an abrupt stop as you landed on a flat piece of earth. You felt the slab of rock begin to slide upwards as Toph brought you back up to where everyone else was standing. Silently, you walked up to Toph and engulfed her in a hug, shaking slightly from all the adrenaline. The hug didn’t last long however, and you were soon pulled away from Toph and brought into another tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Sokka whispered as he hugged you. “Geez...what happened? You scared me to death!”

You didn’t reply, instead meeting Katara’s eyes as she gave you a knowing look. Cheeks blazing, you pulled away from Sokka and brushed yourself off. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going. We can’t waste any more time.”

After making sure that you truly were fine, Aang encouraged everyone to continue. Eventually, night fell and you all decided to stop and rest for the night. You placed your sleeping bag down next to Katara’s, only to find it being ripped away from you.

“Not too close to the edge (Y/N/N)!” Sokka exclaimed, laying your sleeping bag right next to his. “You have to be more careful.”

You rolled your eyes before walking over to him. “Ok Sokka. Whatever you say.”

“Wait!” Sokka screamed suddenly, holding his arm out to stop you from moving forwards.

“What?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

“Oh, nothing,” Sokka replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought I saw a spider.”

Shaking your head, you curled up in your sleeping bag, once again rolling your eyes at the way Katara was looking at the close proximity between you and Sokka. “Good night everyone.”

You struggled to fall asleep, tossing and turning until you felt Sokka get up from his spot next to you and walk off. Turning once more, you noticed Katara waving at you and trying to catch your attention. When she got it, she motioned for you to go after Sokka. Quietly getting up, you began to walk off, ignoring Katara as she whispered, “Go confess!”

Nervously wringing your hands, you made your way over to where you knew Sokka would be, once again building up your confidence. When you finally got there, your heart dropped as you saw Suki and Sokka inches away from each other.

“Oh!” you gasped, loud enough to draw their attention. They flew apart immediately, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know.”

“(Y/N), wait!” Sokka shouted, looking after you as you fled. You didn’t go back to the campground, instead choosing to wander off on your own. You could feel your palms heating up, faint curls of steam escaping your nostrils as your emotions overwhelmed you and caused your bending to act up. Breathing deeply, you sat down and looked up at the moon. You stayed there all night, sighing softly and suppressing your fire as the moon seemed to glow a little bit brighter.

~

After walking in on Sokka’s almost-kiss with Suki, you decided to give up on confessing your feelings. You had all been quite busy anyways, what with trying to tell the Earth King about the upcoming solar eclipse, running from Azula, and trying to come up with a plan to invade the Fire Nation. With all that had happened, you and Sokka had drifted apart, the sudden distance between you two a little intentional on your part. Maybe it was for the better, at least that way your heart wouldn’t ache every time he smiled at you after telling you one of his jokes.

Eventually you began to wonder if Aunt Wu’s prediction was wrong. Or maybe you just hadn’t met the boy with a heart of gold and the spirit of a warrior that you were meant to end up with.

After the Day of Black Sun, the younger members of the invasion army found themselves settled into the Western Air Temple. It was there that everyone unanimously voted to have you become Aang’s firebending teacher. You had initially refused, not wanting to teach Aang firebending the way you had learned it; by depending on your emotions. You tended to have trouble controlling your fire when you allowed your emotions to take control, which wouldn’t help Aang in any way. You had only agreed to teach him after stating that you would only do it if they allowed Zuko to teach Aang as well.

Sokka had been the loudest to complain about Zuko joining your group, claiming that he was evil and that they didn’t need another firebender running around. You had been slightly offended by his comments and continuously vouched for Zuko, seeing that he had truly changed and that he wanted to help Aang. As a result, you ended up spending most of your time with the prince, offering him friendship when no one else did. A problem soon arose however, when you actually began to teach Aang how to firebend.

~ “Listen everybody, I have some pretty bad news. I’ve lost my stuff,” Zuko announced, walking into the courtyard where everyone was. You were trailing behind him quietly.

“Don’t look at me,” Toph said immediately, raising her hands in defense. “I didn’t touch your stuff.”

“He’s talking about firebending,” you stated, laughing at her words. “And he’s not the only one.”

Katara’s snickering stopped as she looked at you with wide eyes. “Not you too!”

You shifted uncomfortable as everyone stared at you. “Well, I can still bend. The issue is that my flames are too big and destructive. I’m having quite a bit of trouble trying to keep them controlled.”

“Wouldn’t big flames be a good thing?” Sokka asked. “Just teach Aang how to do it and he’ll burn the Fire Lord to a crisp.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” you said tiredly. “A lot of firebenders draw their energy from their emotions but when they’re too strong, their bending gets too dangerous and out of hand.”

“Strong emotions?” Sokka whispered, his heart speeding up slightly as he stared at you.

“Yes,” Zuko answered. “For me, it used to be anger and hatred. For (Y/N), it stems from great love or sadness.

“Zuko!” you hissed, flushing as you faced him. Zuko stared back at you, a teasing smile on his lips. You shot him an alarmed look before glancing at Sokka.

When he first arrived, Zuko had had no trouble figuring out your feelings for the Water Tribe boy. Much like Katara, he had been put off by your feelings, always having thought of Sokka as nothing more than an immature boy.

Sokka, on the other hand, had not seen the panic behind the look you had aimed at Zuko and he felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his chest at the way the prince was smiling at you. He kept noticing the glances you were sending towards Zuko, unaware that you were actually trying to burn a hole into the side of his head with your glare. In Sokka’s head, your recent aloofness towards him was starting to make sense.

“Look,” Zuko said, drawing the attention back to him. “I don’t want to rely on anger and hatred anymore. There has to be another way to regain my bending.”

“You’re gonna need to learn to draw your firebending from a different source,” Toph said, leaning back on the rock she was sitting on. “I recommend the original source.”

“How’s he supposed to do that? By jumping into a volcano?” Sokka asked, sounding way too happy.

“No. Zuko and (Y/N) need to go back to whatever the original source of firebending is,” Toph stated once again. “For earthbending, the original benders were the badgermoles.”

You and Zuko exchanged uneasy looks before you spoke. “The original firebenders were the dragons.”

“And they’re extinct,” Zuko added, annoyance creeping onto his face when Aang mentioned that Avatar Roku used to have one. “But maybe there’s another way. The first people to learn from the dragons were the ancient Sun Warriors.”

“Yeah, but they died thousands of years ago,” you said, cutting Aang off when he began to speak. “But their civilization wasn’t too far from where we are now.”

“Maybe we can learn something by poking around their ruins!” Aang exclaimed.

“So what?” Sokka asked, standing up. “Maybe you’ll pick up some super old Sun Warrior energy just by standing where they stood a thousand years ago?”

“More or less,” you replied quietly. “Either we learn a new way to firebend, or Aang has to find a new teacher.”

~

In the few days that you had been gone with Aang and Zuko, Sokka had been in a rotten mood. Everyone else had noticed it and Teo and The Duke had even started a game to see who could annoy Sokka the most without making him explode.

It was only when Momo began to avoid him as well that Katara had finally had enough.

“What is going on with you Sokka?” Katara finally exclaimed. “When Haru tried to ask if you wanted some meat, you threw your boomerang at him!”

Sokka grumbled something under his breath, causing Katara to roll her eyes.

“You’ve been acting this way ever since (Y/N) and Zuko-” Katara trailed off as a smirk spread across her face. “You’re jealous!”

“W-What? No!” Sokka exclaimed, stumbling over his words as his face turned bright red. “Why would I be jealous? Who would I be jealous of?”

“Zuko,” Katara stated dully. “You’re jealous of Zuko and (Y/N)’s relationship.”

“They’re in a relationship?” Sokka screeched as he jumped to his feet and began pacing.

“No!” Katara said. “I was referring to their friendship.”

“Oh,” Sokka breathed, coming to a stop and running his hand through his hair, pulling it out of his warrior’s wolf tail in the process. The more he thought about how you and Zuko interacted, the more bothered he got. Katara watching him struggle with his emotions with amusement, wiping the smile off her face when he finally spoke. “I guess...I am jealous.”

Katara rolled her eyes before standing up and facing her brother, her expression becoming serious. “We know. When she gets back, just tell her how you feel. Remember, we’re up against the Fire Lord and things can change in a matter of seconds. Don’t leave things unsaid.”

Sokka sat back down and pushed his hair away from his face, thinking about Katara’s words. He stayed there for a while, smiling when he looked up and saw Appa’s silhouette growing closer and closer. Taking a few breaths, he began to hype himself up.

“Ok Sokka,” he whispered to himself. “You got this. Just tell her how you feel and everything will work out.”

He leapt up when Appa landed, immediately climbing up to reach his saddle. He was shaking with so much nervousness at what he was about to do that he didn’t notice Aang looking down at him.

“Sokka!” Aang whisper-yelled, shooting him a bright smile. “Where is everyone else?”

“They’re in the sleeping hall. It’s pretty early,” Sokka replied normally, only to be shushed by Aang as he finally reached the saddle.

“Don’t be too loud,” Aang whispered, motioning to you. Sokka felt his heart drop to his stomach as his eyes landed on you. You were sitting next to Zuko, the two of you curled up against Appa’s saddle.Your head was resting on the prince’s shoulder, his head resting on top of yours as you both napped peacefully. One of Zuko’s arms was wrapped loosely around your waist to make sure you didn’t topple over, not that Sokka was aware of that.

With a hurt expression, Sokka climbed off of Appa, dejectedly making his way into the sleeping hall. Noticing his downcast expression, Katara made her way over to him. “What’s wrong Sokka?”

“What’s wrong?” Sokka repeated sadly, walking past her. “What’s wrong is that I was too late, Katara. She likes Zuko.”

Katara looked at Sokka in confusion as he curled up in his sleeping bag, turning to face the wall. She straightened up as she heard voices approaching and turned to face you and Zuko, who was smiling at something you had said as you rubbed at your eyes sleepily.

“You’re back!” Katara exclaimed, making her way over to you. You hugged her tightly before replying.

“Yeah, we are. It was an interesting trip,” you said, smiling softly.

“It was!” Aang exclaimed, walking in. “It really helped (Y/N) and Zuko bond over these last few days!”

Sokka grumbled faintly at Aang’s words, not turning to face the group.

“We also learned a new way to firebend,” Zuko added. “A more traditional technique.”

“You should show them!” Aang said excitedly, turning to face you. “Please?”

You hesitated before nodding, not being able to deny Aang anything. Zuko agreed when he saw you nod. Quietly, the two of you made your way to the courtyard, followed by everyone else. Even Sokka had joined, being dragged along by Katara.

“Alright,” you breathed. “Here goes nothing.”

You and Zuko stood a few feet apart, breathing deeply before launching into the perfectly practiced routine you had learned from the dragons. The routine went smoothly and it was dead silent in the courtyard, apart from the occasional huff from you or Zuko. The routine came to an end when you and Zuko ended up chest to chest, the two of you breathing heavily as you looked at each other. With a small squeal, you launched yourself at him, smiling widely. You threw your arms around his neck and he grabbed your waist, stabilizing the two of you.

“We did it!” you exclaimed, only to hear soft claps from everyone else. You pulled away from Zuko in time to see Sokka storming off. Everyone’s clapping died down at Sokka’s departure, an awkward silence taking over.

“Go to him,” Katara said softly, urging you out the door. You looked back hesitantly, only to see Aang waving you off and Zuko giving you a thumbs up. You awkwardly shuffled off to where you expected Sokka to be, finding him in the sleeping hall where he was throwing his boomerang around.

“Sokka, are you okay?” you asked quietly, approaching him slowly. You’ve been acting weird and everyone’s worried about you.”

Sokka caught his boomerang once again and put it down, standing up from where he had been sitting. “What? No I’m perfectly fine.”

His response was short and you couldn’t help but flinch slightly at his sharp tone.

“You can go back to your good ol’ pal Zuko.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words and you crossed your arms in front of you. “Is this what this is about? Zuko? Are you really still upset over the fact that we accepted him into the group?”

Sokka stayed silent as you started walking closer to him, waving your arms in exasperation as you spoke.

“Why can’t you just accept that he’s changed? He’s clearly not the same person he used to be and now Aang has a firebending teacher. Him joining us is a good thing and you’re over here acting like-”

Your words were cut off as Sokka cupped your face in his hands. The words that were on the tip of your tongue died down as you looked into his bright blue eyes.

The two of you stood in tense silence for a minute. You felt your cheeks heat up under his touch, neither one of you saying anything as you looked at each other. Sighing softly, he rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, your whole face now burning brightly from the close proximity between the two of you. You felt Sokka nudge his nose against yours and you opened your eyes to see him raise an eyebrow, an unspoken question hanging in between you. Closing your eyes once again, you nodded softly, your head spinning as Sokka’s hands began to tremble slightly before he pressed his lips to yours.

You held your breath, not fully believing what was happening. The kiss was nothing more than a brush of his lips against yours, over way too quickly as Sokka recoiled and let his hands drop before turning away.

“S-Sokka, I-” you began, stumbling over your words. Your heart was racing as you gently touched your lips, wondering if he really did feel the same way you did.

“Save it,” Sokka replied, his tone softer than earlier. “Go back to Zuko and forget I ever did that.”

“I can’t,” you replied softly, walking over to him. “I can’t forget you did that Sokka. I’ve been waiting for a sign that you might like me back for the longest time and now that I finally have it, you want me to forget about it?”

Sokka turned around, disbelief clear on his face. “You like me? N-No. You like Zuko.”

Your face softened at his words. “Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Because you thought I liked Zuko?”

Sokka bowed his head down in disappointment. “He’s a prince (Y/N). He’s a prince and a firebender and how could I ever compete with that?”

“You don’t have to,” you replied immediately. “I like you, not him. I’ve liked you ever since I joined you guys on your journey. Zuko and I got close because we’re both firebenders and because we know what it’s like to be considered traitors to our nation, not because we like each other.”

“You don’t like Zuko?” Sokka asked dumbly. You shook your head.

“No. I already told you, I like-” you were cut off yet again, this time by Sokka pressing his lips to yours in an urgent manner. You wasted no time in kissing back, your hands coming up to rest on his chest as he grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you impossibly close. The kiss was desperate and slightly messy, the two of you pouring all of your emotions into it. You could feel his heart pounding underneath your hands and you were almost certain that he could feel yours as well.

Pulling back, you kept your eyes closed as you hesitated to ask the question on your mind. “What about Suki?”

Sokka kissed you once more before answering. “I don’t like her. I love you.”

Sokka’s eyes widened at his unexpected proclamation and he looked at you in panic. Your eyes shined brightly and you replied quickly before he could try to stutter out an excuse.

“I love you too.”

You hugged him tightly before kissing him yet again, his arms winding around your waist again as he responded enthusiastically. This was what you had been waiting for, and the safety that the two of you felt in each other’s arms was comforting.

“It took us long enough,” Sokka muttered against your lips, causing you to laugh softly.

“You talk too much,” you replied before reconnecting your lips.

The two of you only pulled away when you heard Toph’s voice, followed by multiple footsteps.

“I found them! They’re in here kissing, my feet can feel it!”

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​, @dekahg​, @boxofteenageideas​

[starsfic]

10 Different Happenings: Bai He

Summary: In different worlds, there are different what-ifs.

Here’s ten what-ifs for Lady Bone Demon’s host, known as Bai He.

(Notes: 2 is from @winterpower98′s Swap AU, 4 is @stylishbutdefinitelyillegal’s Swap AU, 5 is a swap au where Bai He is Sun Wukong’s successor, chosen by the staff, and Xiaotian ends up being LBD’s host, and 8 is a Coraline AU inspired by @fre-dream’s art.)

-_-

1.

Bai He staggered out of the driver’s seat. Pigsy probably wouldn’t be too pissed that she drove the food truck into a wall- all he would really care about was if she and Xiaotian were safe...

Oh. Right. Poison.

She scrambled for the back of the truck, ripping the doors open. Bai He had lost the demon a few streets back and hopefully Xiaotian was feeling better? 

But, as she scrambled for the seat she had managed to drape him in, she could see he wasn’t feeling better.

He had gone pale, sweat dripping down clammy skin. When Bai He poked his forehead, she was rewarded with a groan and the fact that he probably had a fever. The wound where the giant scorpion had stung him had started to turn an angry red. Behind her, Bai He heard a small chime before there was a chuckle.

“Wow kid. Nice driving, very impressed.”

“What are you still doing here?” She hadn’t seen Macaque since Xiaotian had told him to fuck off and, after learning his true name from Sun Wukong, Bai He had made sure he followed that command. She whirled around and raised a brow. “And what’s with the outfit?”

Macaque was dressed in a purple kimono that looked much more formal then the past hour had been. “Oh, I was attending a party in Tokyo before I was dragged here.” He said casually, plucking at the fabric. “Very nice city. Less parties I'm banned from.” He took a step closer. “You ever been?”

Bai He had never been to Japan.

Right now, Japan was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

2.

Bai He waited until the door closed.

Her smile dropped. She ignored the low growl Ming gave her as Bai He hopped off the couch and headed for the bathroom. The cat knew better at this point. She locked the door behind her, not bothering to turn on the light, before turning to the sink.

For a moment, Bai He examined her reflection in the mirror. A copy of someone, technically their child, being used and used until the original was bored?

Yeah, she got that.

Then she pushed those thoughts away.

Bai He plugged the sink. Then she turned the cold water knob. Freezing cold water poured out. When it was almost overflowing, she turned the water off. She cupped her hands and splashed her face, not even bothering to pause as white filled the water, nor as the mirror mirrored the sink of water, white swirling in the surface. She formed a neutral expression as white swirled and swirled.

Then an older woman spoke from the mirror, voice filled with what seemed to be a mother’s kindness. “Ah, there you are, sweet girl. Have you any news for me?”

Bai He smiled.

“Yes, my lady.”

3.

She collapsed face-first on the ground and immediately wanted to throw up.

Ringing rolled through her ears. But, slowly, it cleared.

To reveal screaming.

Bai He managed to look back. Red Son’s head was thrown back as he screamed, mist curling around him, eyes glowing blue. Shit. But the Lady Bone Demon was distracted...

She managed to get to her feet.

Before she could run, something grabbed her collar. “Now, now, now...” She craned her neck back.

Red Son grinned down at her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

4.

“Okay, so I might’ve screwed up.”

Over the phone, Tang chuckled. “I was wondering why Macaque is crying in the back of my shop.”

Bai He yelped, tail reacting and smacking some kind of soap off the counter. She winced at the thud, reaching out and grabbing her tail. She honestly had no idea how Xiaotian did this 24/7. “He’s crying?!”

“Uh, no actually. What happened?”

“I...” Bai He stepped forward, back into the mirror’s view. A face, a purple heart shape over her face, framed by white fur, stared back at her. “...Might’ve fucked up.”

5.

“A way out!”

Bai He was so happy! There was light at the end of the tunnel, leading her to escape from the Spider Queen! She was so ready to put this shrinking adventure behind her! She scrambled to her feet, ready to move-

A sob rolled through the tunnel.

She paused.

Another sob made her turn. A few more made Bai He head down, wondering who was crying. Eventually, she poked her head behind a rock. Her jaw dropped at the person, curled up on the floor.

“Xiaotian?!”

Her friend looked up, face streaked with tears. He was dressed in odd blue clothing. But, in her relief, she ignored all that.

She had found her missing friend!

6.

“MONKIE KID!”

Bai He ran from the alley. At least her cat had gotten away, but now it was her turn! Behind her, Long Xiaojiao’s screaming had faded... before being replaced by laughing.

Yeah, that wasn’t making her slow down.

7.

There was no chance.

Lady Bone Demon’s power, married to the power drained from the Monkie Kid, was too much.

8.

Bai He bit her lip and stared at the creaky old house in front of them. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow pass in front of one of the windows. Whimpering a little, she gripped her older brother’s arm.

“Bai Heeee,” Xiaotian groaned, kicking his rainboots in the mud, “There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a stupid old house that nobody sane wants to live in.”

This last part was said a bit louder, so that Dadsy could hear. There was a grunt in response.

“It’s haunted! I know it is!” Bai He whispered as their father went to get the keys from the landlady. “We’re gonna die!”

“Don’t worry, Bai He!” Their father called. “Pigsy and I checked and it’s not haunted.” He passed Xiaotian the key. “Why don’t you two start getting set up?” The two groaned before turning attention to their luggage.

The house was something inherited from Dadsy’s grandma or something, set near a mountain. Bai He wasn’t sure why they moved here. But she thought it might’ve been because of Xiaotian’s birth family. Right now, she was trailing her fingers along the wall in what looked like a parlor, which was just as dusty as the rest of the house. Then her fingers hit something weird- an outline. “Hey Xiaotian, look at this!” she called. “Somebody covered up a door or something!”

Xiaotian dropped the books he had been grabbing. The two siblings shared a look. Without another word, Xiaotian set down the hallway. “Dadsy!” he started calling.

Fascinated by the possibility of a secret passage, Bai He didn’t notice the spider watching her. Nor the monkey outside watching.

9.

“Monkey King!”

Sun Wukong looked up at LBD’s former host. “Thanks kid.” he said, reaching out. He paused when he realized that his golden eyes of truth had activated. He froze when he realized what he was looking at.

Bai He was silver as she reached for him.

“Are you okay?”

Chains looped around her wrists, reaching back to a familiar monkey’s silhouette.

10.

“C’mon.”

Bai He blinked at the words. Sandy smiled up at her. “Let’s go home.” he said. She felt tears prick at her eyes before frantically wiping them away.

She took his hand.

[sckyie]

song: driver’s license by olivia rodrigo

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: angst; swearing, fear of driving, reminiscing in old memories

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: this was orignially supposed to just be an imagine inspired by the song, not apart of the song series but it fits too well to not change oikawa’s song. i also wrote this for @kybabi​​ bc i love her :D n e wayz enjoy :) (part 2)

"So here you're going to turn and he'll make you do a parallel park in the street. You remember how to do that right?" Oikawa asked as he guided you to the next turn. As you turn the steering wheel, you spot a crowded curbside.

"No, can you please please park for me? I hate parallel parking," You pleaded.

"Only because you asked so nicely," He teased.

Ever since you told your best friend that you wanted to learn how to drive, Oikawa never let it go whenever you wanted to hang out. Having you drive him around for practice and giving you tips as you went. He's helped you a ton while you drove around, the only issues you had were parallel parking and merging onto the highway.

"Maybe we should try the highway again," Oikawa said after you two switched seats.

"Are you asking for a death wish?" You joked. "I drive too slow and I'm scare to merge into lanes."

"We can practice on smaller freeways if you want," He asks.

"No," You growled.

It was always a terrifying thing to drive on the highway. You always saw those horrid accidents and feared being in one. Oikawa would always put his hand on your thigh as you merged to calm you down. Just having him be there was enough to get you to get onto the highway. All your fears just faded with him beside you.

Just having this intimate driving lesson with him was enough for you. You grew to fall in love in your best friend. A cliché thing, yet you couldn't say anything. Only you and your girl friends knew about your big crush. It was a funny thing, falling for your childhood best friend. Iwaizumi always joked about you doing so but you never admitted to liking Oikawa. What would that do to your friendship?

Today was the day, it was your test day. The scariest thing you anticipated was finally here. The thing you practiced days on end with Oikawa. The thing that could either make or break you. Today, you'd either come out with your license or you'll be walking home.

The nerves crept up your body like spiders leaving a trail of anxiety webs. You bounced you leg as you waited in the lobby looking out for your driving instructor. As your sweaty palms go to check the time, you notice a text message from Oikawa.

butthead: hey! good luck on your test today!

That's what cooled you down. A simple saying of good fortune will help, right? Sure enough, the test was a breeze, minus the parallel parking as it was the one mistake you got. You happily drove home to tell the news to your parents.

"Have you told Tooru yet?" Your mom asked.

"I'll wait until my actual driver license to prove to him I got it," You smiled.

"You like him don't you?" Your mom gestured to the joy on your face. "I can tell."

"No," You looked away from your mom as she raised her eyebrow. "Okay, maybe but you can't say anything. I'm going to my room now." She chuckled as you dragged you feet to your room.

Two weeks passes and you finally received your license in the mail. You smiled happily down at your new card as you walked outside the school building. You looked up to search for your best friend. Your eyes scanned the courtyard before landing on Iwaizumi. Assuming Oikawa was nearby, you headed towards him.

"Hey Iwa, where's Oiks?" You asked. Iwaizumi raised up his hand and pointed across to the gate. You looked over to find Oikawa talking to Kasumi, a classmate of yours.

"He's asking her to go on a date with him again," Iwaizumi says.

Again? He's done it before?

"Are they dating?" You ask.

"Not yet, Oikawa wants to ask her to be his girlfriend on the date," Iwa explains. "What's that?" He points to your hands as you fiddled with the corner of your driver's license.

"Oh," You said solemnly. "I got my license."

You waved goodbye to your childhood friend before going into he parking lot. Without thinking, you started the car and just began to drive. Out of the school and onto who knows where. Your mind grew blank as you drove.

How could he not mention Kasumi to you? He used to tell you everything but lately he'd been so distant. Maybe that's why he hasn't texted you all week, you thought. Who could blame him for liking Kasumi? She's so pretty and not to mention how smart she is. She's the class representative and she's one of the nicest girls around.

You fell for the one man you shouldn't have. It was too late to even confess how you felt. He was already falling for another while you were left behind. You felt a sharp pain in your chest as you drove by familiar buildings.

The laundromat where you and Oikawa would go to help with the laundry. You both would end up messing around and your parents would have to kick you two out. You and Oikawa would go across the street to the convenience store to buy steamed buns.

He doesn't like you.

The library where you would wait for Oikawa to finish practice so you two could study together. He'd bring you a bottle of tea and some sort of snack to keep you from burning out. Those study dates where you'd stay until the library was closed.

Give up, stop thinking of him.

The ramen restaurant where Oikawa would take you if he won a game. It was a great celebration and you two had made so many memories there. You two had gone there so often, he convinced the owner that you were his girlfriend.

Let him go.

All the feelings you had for him began to ache in your heart as you reminisced in the memories. You gripped tighter on the wheel as you saw an highway exit. "Fuck," You whispered as you merged into the fast lane. Suddenly all those fears you had of driving, just disappeared. You felt this peace as your eyes locked on the long highway. It was like, nothing hurt anymore. Your tensed shoulders relaxed, yet you felt tears roll down your cheeks. You took deep breaths as you drove attempting to stop your tears.

Soon enough, driving on the highway had shifted from a phobia to an escape. Everyday after school, rather than meeting up with Oikawa and Iwaizumi before practice, you'd drive on the highway and on backroads. It was the only thing that kept you sane when you see Kasumi with Oikawa together.

You became accustomed to the fast pace of the highways. Occasionally you'd speed if you felt some type of pain grow in your chest. You'd blast music to drown out any thoughts or feelings you had. You knew Oikawa could never be yours, so why bother crying over him, right? The thought of being around him began to make you uncomfortable. If you kept your distance, you wouldn't get hurt. You wouldn't be considered a distraction.

butthead: hey?

you: what's up?

butthead: it's been a while since i've seen you :( i miss my best friend

you: are you sure you mean to text me or iwa?

butthead: you, y/n i miss hanging with you

butthead: you didn't come to the restaurant after our game

you: i was busy, sorry

butthead: :(

you: i gotta go, ill talk to you later

Oikawa sighed at his phone and looked across the table to Iwaizumi. "Have you talked to Y/n lately?" He asked.

"Yeah, she borrowed gas money from me," Iwa says before slurping his noodles.

"Gas money? She got her license?" Oikawa tilts his head. "How long has it been?"

"A month? You got caught up with Kasumi," Iwaizumi says.

"Hmph," Oikawa huffed as he sipped his drink. He'd been spending so much time with Kasumi that he forgot about you. Or was it, you started to forget about him? He glances at the window behind Iwa and noticed a familiar car parking.

You parked your car across the street of the restaurant next to a convenience store. You quickly got out and went into the store looking for something to drink. As you began to scan the fridge, you heard the door open. "Y/n?" You turned to find Oikawa.

"What are you doing here?" You turned back to grab a soda.

"Iwa came to eat with me since you didn't make it," Oikawa says. "He's still there, did you want to join us?"

"No thanks, I'm kinda busy at the moment," You say dully. Oikawa goes to speak but you had already walked to go pay for your drink. "Later Oikawa."

"Oikawa?" He watched as you left the store and into your car. He follows suit and watched you speed off. Oikawa quickly makes his way back to the restaurant and seats himself disgruntled. "Y/n called me Oikawa..."

"That's your name isn't it?" Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow.

"She always calls me Oiks or Ru, never Oikawa," He says. "Did I do something wrong?"

Iwaizumi shrugged even though he knew the answer well enough. After Oikawa had asked Kasumi to be his girlfriend, your demeanor had changed. Iwa was the first to notice too. Typically, after school you'd see the duo before practice started, yet since you learnt Oikawa had eyes for another, you stopped.

One day, Iwaizumi decided to follow after you when school was over. He trailed behind as you walked to your car door. You pulled open the door handle only for Iwa to shut the door immediately after. You turned to find Iwaizumi with scrunched eyebrows. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "Why haven't you came by before practice?"

"No reason, I'm just busy," You lied.

"Liar, what's wrong?" He asks yet you remained silent. "I won't tell Shittykawa just tell me why you're being so distant...and also why your eyes are always puffy."

You paused before answering, "I'm just...upset with Oikawa...and Kasumi.."

"Do you..?" Iwaizumi implied. You nod and looked at the ground. "What have you been doing since you found out about them?"

"Driving," You sighed. "Just driving...It's keep me off my mind all week. I bear the fact that he looks so happy with her and not...me. God I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that-" Iwa started but you immediately lashed out.

"It's true! I was too late to confess! And I fell for the one boy I can't have!" You felt tears well up in your eyes. "I can't even drive by certain places without getting upset. I take backroads and I avoid them completely. I hate driving by his house but it's the only way to my own. He just treats me like another fucking fan girl! I'm just so stupid for falling for my best friend." Since that day, Iwaizumi kept to his promise. Not word about your feelings were said to Oikawa.

butthead: hey are you busy right now ?

you: no, what's up?

butthead: can you help me with something?

you: depends

butthead: meet me at the library so i can tell you more :)

You locked you phone and tossed it into your passenger's seat. You looked up to see the light change to green, allowing you to speed into the highway. Your hands rested at the bottom of the wheel as you drove. The slow, lo-fi music surrounded your car as you drove which let you get out of your trapped mind.

It was a crazy thought to think that you and Oikawa were so excited to drive together. Yet now all you want to do is drive alone. You turned up the volume of your music as you merged into your neighborhood. You leaned further back into your seat as you were driving around the suburbs. You glance at the white cars lining one street leading to the library. You scoffed at the sight as a repressed memory resurfaced.

"Why do you like white cars so much?" You chuckled.

"Because they look clean and nice? Sorry I don't like your basic silver car," Oikawa raised his hand to block your face.

"I'm basic? Says the one who wants an automatic," You pretend to throw up to mock him.

"For someone who can't drive yet, you talk big," Oikawa pats your head only to be smacked a few seconds late. Oikawa drapes his arm over you as you walked down the street to the library The entire walk was filled with mocking and talking about the future. "Let me teach you how to drive, that way we could go out together more."

You finally arrived at the library, spotting Oikawa before parking the car. He watches as you easily parallel park and is stunned by how casual you are as you drove. You set out and approach him. Oikawa holds out a snack to you but you politely refuse.

"Let's go inside?" He asks. You shrugged and followed him in. Rather than sitting beside him like usual, you sat across from him. You still had those feelings for him but you couldn't stand sitting next to him. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you anticipated his next words. "I was wondering if you could help me with Kasumi?"

Ouch.

"With what?" You ask.

"I want to give her a gift, right?" He starts. "A gift that goes along with me telling her I love her."

He loves her?

Your heart aches but you decide to move past that. "Isn't it a bit early to say I love you?"

"Well, we were long time friends before we started dating and I feel like it's the right time to, y'know?" Oikawa leans forward on the table. "Can you help me find a gift?"

This feels familiar. Helping him find a gift for a girl that isn't you. It seems like anytime he does have a crush he'd come to you for advice. This is the first time that you didn't want to give into his favors.

"No," You sighed.

"No? Wait why not?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

"Because," Say it. "Because I-"

"Because?" Oikawa tilts his head at your response.

"Because I can't keep doing things like this for you," You stood up and began heading for the entrance. Oikawa followed afterwards as he could see the pain in your voice.

"Y/n, talk to me, we haven't talked in forever. Tell me what's wrong," He says as you exit the library. You ignore his voice and reached for your car door. He grabs your arm but you shove him off.

"Would you just- leave me alone?" You snapped. "I don't want to help you, okay?"

"What did I do?" Oikawa was beyond confused at your response.

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" Your voice cracked as the suppressed feelings began to rise again.

"Why not!" Oikawa grabbed your arm again, this time you weren't able to break free.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You yelled. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you stopped struggling in his hold. Oikawa paused and stared at you in wonder.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You pulled off him. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again." You wiped your tears as you entered your car. Driving off into the neighborhood, crying at the red lights knowing you could've ruined your whole friendship.

Oikawa watched as you sped off. Those words lingered in his ear as he stared down at his hand where you let go. His mind was lost in thought, how could his best friend love him? Was he that blind that he couldn't see your admiration? "She...loves me?" He thought.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme​ @d0llpie​ @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs

[robininthelabyrinth]

i keep thinking about all the yiling patriarch!jiang cheng aus out there and it got me curious: what wild canon divergences would have to happen for it to be jiang yanli who becomes the yiling matriarch? (she doesn’t use a flute, she just asks politely probably) and what would be the eventual fallout of that?

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, of course.

Jiang Yanli’s big didi was brilliant and talented beyond measure, as reckless and impertinent in his thoughts as he was in every other way, just as her little didi was earnest and soft-hearted and dutiful, the outlines of the serious man he’d become when he grew up just barely visible underneath the baby fat that still lingered in his cheeks.

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, but it was Jiang Cheng that made Jiang Yanli decide to use it.

Both of her brothers got invitations to sit in on important sect meetings, as senior disciple and presumptive heir; Wei Wuxian apparently made good contributions during the meetings and forgot about them immediately afterwards, while Jiang Cheng listened intently and then worried for days.

“The Wen sect is becoming more and more of a threat,” Jiang Cheng told her late at night when she was making him something to settle his upset stomach – he was like a little bird, with anxiety enough to put him off his seed. “Mother and Father are fighting over how much they need to react, since technically they haven’t come into Yunmeng…”

“Technically?”

“We never signed agreements with those clans, but we’ve been all but responsible for them anyway.” He put his head down on the table, sighing. “What happens if they come here?”

“A-Xian says they won’t dare.”

“He’s just repeating what Father says. I don’t know. Maybe they don’t dare now, but – what if they do, one day?”

Jiang Yanli took after her father in most aspects, but she was still her mother’s daughter: while she comforted Jiang Cheng and told him not to worry, filled him up with warm soup and hugged him until he smiled again, the thought lingered. What if, indeed. Her brothers would need to fight, of course. Her two babies raising up swords against human beings instead of evil creatures; her mother would use Zidian, of course, and her father had his sword, and she –

Jiang Yanli was not un-self-aware. She was an indifferent cultivator, with below-average skills at the sword – good enough to pass basic muster, but not much more than that. Her talismans were about the same, decent but not inspiring, and she could only produce an average number before she exhausted her spiritual energy. She had a golden core, but it was weak, just like she was weak.

She wouldn’t be able to defend her home. To defend her brothers.

And there was nothing she could do about it –

That was when she remembered Wei Wuxian’s silly little idea, the one that had gotten him in so much trouble at the Cloud Recesses, that he’d told her all about in great detail when he’d returned home: to use resentful energy the way they used spiritual energy.

(“– and then poor Nie Huaisang said it would be helpful to someone like him, who formed his core later; he doesn’t have much spiritual energy, so he gets tired easily, but if it’s not his energy he’s using, he wouldn’t be held back by the limits of his own cultivation –”)

Jiang Yanli pursed her lips in thought.

Wei Wuxian had only sketched out the basic idea, without going forward to think of ways to implement the idea – after all, it was all well and good to say you could find a way to channel tremendous external energy into something usable, but another thing entirely to actually do it. It would be as tricky as catching lightning from the sky and using it as a whip.

In other words, it was time to ask her mother for help.

To say that Yu Ziyuan disapproved would be an understatement, but Jiang Yanli knew her mother well: she waited until the initial rant was completed and then pointed out, quietly, that she didn’t have any other means with which to defend herself – and that would leave her at the non-existent mercy of the Wen sect.

Her mother froze. “…I could give you Zidian,” she finally said, but from the expression on her face, even she knew that that wouldn’t work: Zidian required both a strong golden core and a certain knack, a talent that Jiang Cheng had and Jiang Yanli lacked; there had never been any question between the two of them as to who would inherit Zidian. “Or we could buy more talismans –”

“And when the talismans we buy run out? I can’t replenish them myself. But if we try my way, I won’t have to rely on A-Xian or A-Cheng – a-niang, just think about how I’d feel if they got hurt trying to save me! And all because I don’t have a knack for cultivating!”

Her mother sighed. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll help you figure out how it could work in practice, rather than in theory. But it’s only for emergencies, you understand? What you’re suggesting comes very close to demonic cultivation – if you use human-generated resentful energy, it is demonic cultivation – and using that too much damages the body, affects the temperament.”

“Just for emergencies,” Jiang Yanli promised.

“And don’t tell A-Cheng or Wei Wuxian about it,” her mother insisted. “Can you imagine the trouble those two would get into with something like this?”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth to try to keep from giggling. “A-Xian would probably restyle himself to match the aesthetic – wearing Demon Cultivating Robes, under Demon Cultivating Hair, that he left in a pile on the Demon Cultivating Bed –”

“From which he rested on the Pillow of Evil, no doubt,” her mother agreed, looking amused despite herself. “And your brother would end up trying to keep a small legion of fierce corpses as pets because he felt too bad about sending them back into the earth after having used them.”

“He’d give them names,” Jiang Yanli said, giggling harder. “Princess, or Buttercup –”

“And he’d hide them very badly in a closet or something, too. Do you remember the nest of juvenile fisher hawks that he hid in the armory? They nearly fell on my head –”

“Of course I remember. You nearly stepped on poor little Cloudpuff.”

“Don’t remind me!”

They had two years to work on it, their own little mother-daughter bonding time – the boys ran away in mock fright at the mere suggestion of girly stuff – and Jiang Yanli felt that she and her mother had never been closer. They could even, for the first time, go on night-hunts together, Jiang Yanli summoning corpses with a crook of her finger and a gentle hum while her mother cut them down with her sword or with Zidian.

It was so much fun that Jiang Yanli almost forgot why they’d started it in the first place.

And then, very suddenly, it all became real.

Jiang Yanli was at Meishan, visiting her grandmother, when the Wen sect attacked, but word spread quickly – the Lotus Pier ravaged, the sect leader and his wife both dead, their children missing…

“We have to hide you at once,” her grandmother said after they’d passed through the first flush of grief, her face still wet with tears. “They’ll be coming here next –”

“You will tell them that I am not here,” Jiang Yanli said, and stood up, wiping her own eyes. “Because I won’t be. I’m going back to the Lotus Pier.”

“A-Li! If you do that, they’ll catch you – have you heard what the Wen sect does to female cultivators –”

“Mother and Father are dead at their hands,” Jiang Yanli said. “They must be avenged.”

“Your brother will do that! That boy, Wei Wuxian, he will –”

“I will not let them bear that burden alone,” Jiang Yanli said. “Keep everyone here safe for me, okay?”

She made it back just in time to see Jiang Cheng, her little A-Cheng, the baby she held in her tiny arms less than a shichen after he’d been born, the one she clothed and fed and cared for all these years, being dragged into the main hall by Wen sect cultivators, his face pale with fear.

Wen Chao was sitting in her father’s chair, playing with the sect’s discipline whip. “I’ve always wondered if this thing was as bad as they say. Let’s try it out on him,” he ordered, grinning lazily. “And then Wen Zhuliu can melt his golden core, and we can try it again – to see if there’s any difference in using it on a cultivator and on a regular person.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t plead for mercy, not even as they forced him down to kneel, even as his shoulders shook under their hands – Jiang Yanli turned her face away, nodded at the young Wen cultivator that had snuck her in this far (Wen Ning, she thought his name was), and raised her hands to do what she had to do.

The Wen sect had been lazy in the immediate aftermath of their victory: they hadn’t bothered to either bury or burn the corpses of her Jiang sect cultivators, her shidi and shimei, her martial aunts and uncles; they’d only tossed them outside into a giant pit to be dealt with later.

They were going to regret that.

“Jiejie!” Jiang Cheng cried out when he saw her rushing over to his side: he was bleeding, and badly, from the marks of the whip, but Wen Zhuliu hadn’t had a chance to destroy his core yet, having been distracted by the sight of the Violet Spider risen up from the dead in defiance of all soul-calming rituals.

(Jiang Yanli knew her mother well enough to know that she would forgive the use of her corpse if it resulted in her ripping out Wen Zhuliu’s core with her bare hands, using the elongated nails of a fierce corpse, a fearsome red-clad ghost dressed in purple. They would put her to rest later in the same coffin as her husband.)

“It’s okay, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli said, petting his hair. “It’s okay – jiejie’s here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Wen Ning ended up being the little brother of Wen Qing, who he somehow managed to summon – the famous doctor lived up to her reputation and didn’t so much as blink at being escorted into the main room by fierce corpses in order to care for Jiang Cheng’s wounds. Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that she’d seen her deliberately stepping on Wen Chao’s corpse on her way in, too, so she wasn’t worried.

“No one can know that I was involved,” Wen Qing said, finishing up stitching together Jiang Cheng’s chest and resetting his collarbone. He was out cold, and there were medicines that would work as painkillers for when he woke up. “I have to keep my family safe, too.”

“You were never here, this never happened,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “If you ever decide that the Wen sect is a losing proposition, come to me and I’ll remember this favor.”

Wen Qing eyed some of the fierce corpses standing as guards. “I’ll remember that.”

There was some yelling outside, a familiar voice. Jiang Yanli tilted her head to the side and smiled. “That’ll be A-Xian. He can help sneak you out of our borders without anyone the wiser – no one knows the ins and out of the Lotus Pier better than he does.”

She went out and found Wen Ning trying to talk down a wild-eyed Wei Wuxian, who apparently was on familiar terms with him. Not really a surprise: Wei Wuxian was friendly with everybody.

“A-Xian!” she called.

“Shijie?! What are you doing here? Are you okay – are you safe – did you see Jiang Cheng –”

“It’s okay,” she said. “All the bad Wens are dead; Wen Ning and his sister – and their subordinates – are helping us. A-Cheng is injured, but he’ll heal.”

Wei Wuxian sat down abruptly, all the tension in his body replaced by a mixture of relief and the remnants of his despair. “I only went away for a moment to get some food,” he said, and put his head in his hands. “I only looked away for a moment…”

Jiang Yanli sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You did your best, A-Xian. That’s all that can be asked of you.”

“But – Madame Yu said –”

Jiang Yanli could guess what her mother had probably said.

“Of course you need to take care of A-Cheng,” she said, and let him bury his head in her shoulder. “He’s your didi, isn’t he? Just like he’s mine, and you’re mine, too; it’s our responsibility as older siblings to take care of the younger ones. He’s going to need our help a lot more now that he has to be sect leader.”

Wei Wuxian sniffled. “I told him I’d support him when he became sect leader – that we’d be the twin heroes of Yunmeng, just like the twin jades of the Lan sect. I just didn’t think…not so soon! And now there’s barely any Jiang sect left!”

“My little heroes,” Jiang Yanli said, and kissed his forehead. “It’ll be okay. The Wen sect may have attacked the Lotus Pier, but there are plenty of Jiang sect cultivators who weren’t here – we have them, and we can recruit more.”

He nodded, then paused. “Uh, shijie – a question.”

“Yes?”

“The fierce corpses everywhere…”

“We’ll need to lay them to rest after we’re done,” Jiang Yanli said firmly. Her mother had insisted on that: demonic cultivation encouraged bad tendencies, sloppiness, and the only way to deal with that degradation of spirit was with discipline and righteousness. If possible, she should prefer non-human spirits; human corpses could be used, but only to the degree necessary, and then they had to be laid to rest with honor, as they deserved – furthermore, if at all possible, they should only be summoned from those that would have willingly given up their bodies to help the endeavor in question, rather than using tormenting their spirits by using them against their friends and family.

Somehow, Jiang Yanli didn’t think there would be a problem finding victims of the Wen sect to help.

“But how did you do it?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. “They listen to you –”

“I’m manipulating their resentful energy,” she explained. “Based on the idea you initially had at the Cloud Recesses – what? Don’t look at me like that, didi; I did tell you I thought it was a good idea.”

“But demonic cultivation is bad for you! It affects the temperament, the body, the heart…”

“Mother used to say that my temperament could probably stand to be a bit worse,” Jiang Yanli said, feeling her eyes go hot as tears threatened. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Don’t worry, didi. We came up with a bunch of rules to try to make it easier and less harmful to use…I’m not a sword cultivator like you and A-Cheng; it’s not my strength. But I can do this, and I won’t be helpless against the Wen sect.”

Wei Wuxian hugged her, clearly terrified by the thought. “Never mind what I said. It’s a good idea.”

Jiang Yanli smiled. “I know. You’ll help me come up with more ways to use it, right? You and A-Cheng – you always did come up with the craziest things when you were together, even more than you alone.”

“Of course!” There was the Wei Wuxian she knew and loved: forgetting pain – or at least, putting it aside – as soon as he had something concrete to work on. “How do you do it? Music? I’d been thinking of using musical manipulation –”

“Sometimes I hum? Mostly it’s just willpower – sometimes gestures, like saluting. It works better if the resentful spirits feel appreciated.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at her. “Appreciated?”

“Everyone likes to feel appreciated, A-Xian.”

“I suppose so,” he said, then shook his head. “Whatever you say is right, shijie.”

“Of course she’s right,” Jiang Cheng croaked from inside the room – he’d stumbled over to the door, and both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli immediately rushed over to help him back to his bed. “Jiejie’s always right…jiejie, what do we do next?”

“Don’t look at me!” she objected. “You’re sect leader; you decide. I’m just here to support you.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We have to fight back against the Wen sect,” he said. His voice was raspy with pain and the remnants of screaming: Wei Wuxian lifted a cup of tea to his lips at once. “The way the Nie sect is…the Lan sect, too; I think Father mentioned that Lan Wangji was doing a lot of travelling. Wei Wuxian, you got close to him when you were at the Xuanwu cave. Can you go find him? Tell him we need his help, and the help of any other sects he can help us recruit.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “You sure you don’t need me here..?”

“There won’t be a ‘here’ if we don’t get people together, and fast – we killed one of Wen Ruohan’s sons. As soon as I’m better, I’m going to go find people for the Jiang sect, whether cultivators who weren’t here or new ones. And shijie…”

“What can I do?”

Jiang Cheng lifted his finger to point at the corpses, which he hadn’t even questioned. “We need more of those. A lot more of those. An army of them.”

Jiang Yanli frowned. “Where am I supposed to find an army worth of dead people? I was planning on picking up resentful souls of the Wen sect’s victims as we went, but that’ll be incremental, not an army…”

“Actually,” Wei Wuxian said. “I have an idea. Have you ever heard of the Burial Mounds in Yiling…?”