#ill be posting fic links soon i swear

[akalikai]

More gerrymichael sketches! (I love warm color palette x cool color palette so much)

Also I very much headcanon Gerry to be the kind of person that is generally pretty flirty and confident when he wants to be but if he REALLY likes someone they can just smile at him and suddenly he's a fucking MESS all weak in the knees and stuff

Anyways yeah them <3 (if my Tumblr posts seem jilted, I'm more used to lurking that actually posting lol)

[devondespresso]

me, two days ago: alright, i think my little nancy pov fic is done! I've edited it, I've gotten the nsfw part betaed, and i even threw together a little sfw version of it! i am ready to post it!

me, with 4 drafts made across ao3 and tumblr, all filled out and ready to press post: y'know. maybe i should proofread. for capitalization and punctuation. definitely just that.

me now, as we speak: *several changes throughout the entire 3k of words, went around to all my drafts copy and pasting changes to every version to keep it consistent, and realizing i really like these changes and start going back to weak spots to see if i suddenly have the solutions now*

[iwanttoleavethisblankbuticant]

little fanfic of Remi cause I’m obsessed.

Remi is @aller-geez’s character and Levi is @thekinkyleopard’s character. (I think. There’s a chance that’s flipped. Idk cause my brain is mush rn). I do not own any character’s mentioned in this fic, they are not my oc’s. This fic is based of this post from @aller-geez here (idk if this link works or not. It should bring you to her POV post but it might just bring you to her profile. I’m to tired to mess with it tbh.)

TW: illness, male x male, sneezes (barely any. There’s like three. My brain is really not cooperating), swearing? I honestly don’t remember but there probably is, and there is slight amounts of mess but not anything excessive.

anyway I hope this turned out alright. I’m not the best at writing but I’m trying lol.

fic after the cut:

The whole gang had decided to go on a trip to… well there wasn’t really a destination. They were all just going. It was truly mostly Levi’s idea. And with Levi so hyped for it, Remi just couldn’t say no to his kitten. So, somewhat begrudgingly, Remi went along with his mate’s and his mate’s friend’s idea of a group road-trip, despite the fact that Remi could feel sickness building in his sinuses. 

That speeds us up to now, where Remi sat on his hotel bed next to his beloved mate who was fast asleep as he had driven the group down here through the night. Remi look at Levi as he slept peacefully and juggled with the idea of waking him and asking him to go to the store and pick up some things to help his steadily declining condition. But as he saw his kitten getting his first traces of desperately needed sleep, he couldn’t bring himself to wake Levi. So with a sigh that sounded so scratchy that it was no longer recognizable as a sigh, Remi rose and slipped out of his hotel room and walked down the hall to your room. He went to you for many reasons: he could somewhat tolerate your existence (to an extent), you had a room to yourself so that would minimize the amount of people who got to see him vulnerable, your room was far away from Al’s so he didn’t risk that perverted bastard getting off to his misery, and you suffered from allergies so you were likely to have desperately needed tissues. 

The more he walks to your room, the more he wishes he had woken Levi. But he’s pretty much sealed his fate at this point. He knows he looks like shit, eye bags dark swollen and tinged red near the eye and bruise purple near his cheek, his skin paler then normal, sweat on his brow causing his baby hairs to cling to his clammy forehead. But worst of all, in his opinion, was the terrible unceasing itch in his sinuses. It caused him to hitch and hitch but it refused to manifest into an actual sneeze yet also refused to stop plaguing him. Plus it caused his nose to run like a faucet, and with no tissues in sight he kept having to wipe his runny appendage on the collar or sleeve of his shirt. 

Soon he finds himself at your door, he didn’t quite know how long he’d been standing there since he zoned out thinking about how utterly ridiculous this is going to be. Just walking up to someone he only knows through his boyfriend hotel door and begging for tissues after practically ignoring this individual’s existence up until now. But with an aggravated sigh Remi knocks on your door. 

Remi is surprised when the door swings open almost immediately but he quickly looks off to the side and forces his expression to be neutral. 

"Aye. You got any tissues?" Remi asks, trying to ignore the tickle in the back of his nose

"Levi’s asleep" Remi adds, feeling the need to explain further when met with silence. Though the statement doesn’t do much to explain with no context. But it makes sense in Remi’s fever clouded brain

"Ooookayy?" You mumble, opening your door more for Remi to come in. 

Remi shakes his head no as you motion for him to come in.

"Nah, just hiiiheh’… just give me some tissues and I’ll be on my way. I’m not here for chit chat" Remi says, stoping just before say ‘I’m not here for chit chat with a stranger’. He didn’t figure calling someone he technically knew of as a stranger would help him get tissues any faster. And he definitely needed tissues and soon because that little tickle in the back of his sinuses had decided that now, in front of someone he wasn’t the most fond of, he really needed to sneeze. And he could feel the amount of mucus in his sinuses and he didn’t want to be caught with no tissues when this tickle turned into a sneeze.

You cock an eyebrow as his breath hitches mid sentence but you can piece together why he’s in such a rush to get tissues as his breath hitches and his nose leaks. So you trudge into you hotel room, grab the whole box of tissues, and press them to Remi’s chest.

"Here, take care." You say, then you shut your door, sensing he wants to go back to his hotel room as quickly as possible so he can curl up next to his mate. 

As the tissues are pressed into his grasp and you promptly leave, Remi realizes that maybe your not that bad. You either A: picked up on the fact he did not want to be here, or B: you didn’t want him here to begin with. But something told Remi that it wasn’t the last option. 

So with a faint, unseen smile, Remi turns to walk back to his own temporary quarters. But immediately that itchy tickle in the back of his sinuses reared it’s head. 

His nose flairs as he fumbles to grab a tissue. Then he manages to his his fingers around it just as his brows furrow together. Then with one more breathy inhale, Remi buries his abused nose into the tissue and pitches forward with three large sneezes that make his head spin.

"Hii’ Hetchuu’iew! Hitttchiiew! Hetsheew! Snerrf!" 

From inside your hotel room your could hear Remi’s wet, desperate, and sickly sneezes. The walls were thin so you said a quick "bless you" that Remi was able to hear through the walls. 

Remi blushes slightly out of embarrassment, adding to his feverish flush. Then he makes a mental note to tell Levi of his encounter with you. With that, and a box of tissues, Remi retreats to his mate, cuddling up to him as soon as he can slip under the covers beside him.

[that-of-stars-and-flowers]

Yay more of just more of me talking- no but fr Hi, hello, how you doing i have 2 things i want to blab about, Sooo First things first, I'm still working on the fic I mention in my last post but I will actually be posting a teaser I swear I just suuuuck at making posts that make sense 'n stuff, so that will be coming

soon but I'm not sure what to title the wip so i'll be posting a poll with a few possible titles that I think will work, for y'all to chose from.

And now for the second thing im thinking of making a side blog just for my art since i've been drawing more and i have no were to post them, and i know that i can post them hear on my main but im not sure if i should (It's not anything inappropriate or something I just don't know where I should share it) and if i do, i would put a link here and any older art the i've posted here (wow i say here a lot don't i-oh well) would probaly just be rebloged over their. i'm not suure if ill make a poll for it thow, but we'll just have to wait and see any way--- thoughts on what i should do would be very appreciated pls and tank you ;)

---sazalea ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♥

[fanfic-cave]

The Reveal Pt. 1

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Swearing (im too lazy to write the star wars swear words so its our kind of swears), trauma/fear situation, suspense build up, hints to romance

Summary: You've exposed yourself as a Jedi to the Bad Batch, and not intentionally. You're trying to avoid them on the Havoc Marauder, worried that they may be out for your blood, the same way the clones were when they executed the Jedi.

Authors note: I'd recommend reading a few other fics I posted that kinda help lay the ground work for this story/the OC. Ill link them below. This is kinda dramatic, but I had to write it out. Ill post part 2 pretty quickly itll be linked below as well. I have more fluff stuff coming I promiseeee

Migraine

Injured Pt. 1, Pt 2.

Part 2 of The Reveal here

@mangoberry99

The environment on the Havoc Marauder had been tense the whole ride. You had decided to try and avoid everyone as much as possible, and you’ve been on the far side of the ship in the small medical supply closet since the journey began.

Shit.

You had slipped up. You prayed to the force that they didn’t notice, but who were you kidding. Hunter had enhanced sense, Tech was enough of a genius to put two and two together. They saw you make a 40ft jump.

You and the ship were under heavy fire. They were trying to bring the ship closer, but they weren’t making progress quickly enough. You had to jump, or take blaster shots to the face. Now you exposed yourself by making an impossible jump.

Maybe they’ve never seen a Jedi before…

You shook your head. Idiot. Of course they’ve seen Jedi, they were in the Grand Army of the Republic, the same army that had thousands of Jedi as commanders and generals.

You used to be a part of that same army. You fought the war.

And you ran away before it was even over. The battle on Umbara… you shivered from the thought of it. That was your last fight.

That’s when I stopped being a Jedi.

You dispelled the thought, just for another unpleasant one to come. What if they know I am- or was, a Jedi? What if they try to kill me like the other clones did to the Jedi? You squeezed your eyes tight. Their faces flashed through your mind. Memories too- challenging wrecker to a drinking contest, teaching Tech the proper pronunciations in Togruti, spending time with Echo in the cockpit on a night of shared insomnia, cutting Crosshairs toothpick while still in his mouth on a day where he was giving you too much sass, and Hunter.

Hunter. You sucked in a deep breath, a swell of emotions filling in your chest. You always wondered about him. His relationship with you was different from everyone else. You could call the boys your friend, but you weren't sure if friend was the right word for him. You noticed how he would keep his eyes on you, how he kept close to you when things got dangerous. You remembered moments when you tended to each other's wounds, or walked past each other on the ship. The longing glances, lingering touches. You could almost feel the electricity you had felt just from being beside him, for some reason craving to reach out to him. You trusted him, you had vulnerable moments with him.

And now he might try to kill me. And I might kill him.

The galaxy really knew how to be cruel, and it looked like you were being given the cruelest fate it could think of.

The door opened and you saw a small figure slip in. Omega. You sighed. She liked you, maybe too much, now that the shit was about to hit the fan. Or you would run and hide as soon as you could, and never see them again.

“Sera! I was looking for you!” She smiled and turned on the lights. She seemed happy to have found you.

“Hey kid.” You looked down at her, and you couldn’t help smiling. Omega was your first friend after a long time of solitude. She wandered over to your home a lot, which led to your eventual friendship with the bad batch.

“Do you mind if I sit in here with you? Or maybe you can come out with me?”

You felt your stomach sink. You weren’t going to enjoy letting her down.

“Omega… maybe it’s best you go stay near the boys. They’re probably wondering where you are right now.”

“I don’t think so, they know I’m on the ship.” She brushed off your concerns quickly. “Tell me about one of the planets you’ve visited! Or-”

“Omega, Sera, we’re about to land, strap in.” You heard Hunters voice down the hall. You felt knots twist in your stomach. You used the force to sense your lightsaber. Still hidden in your bag, a secret pocket you made to effectively hide it. You didn’t make any movements.

“Sera? You coming?”

You looked to see Omega waiting expectantly, concern showing on her face. “Sera…” an expression you couldn’t quite understand crossed her face as she stared at you. Was it worry? Understanding? “You’re safe here.” She reached out to touch your arm. “I promise, you’re safe.” She squeezed your arm and smiled.

If only you knew.

You won’t kill them. You’ll do whatever you can to disarm, and run. You decided this with confidence now. You couldn’t hurt Omega like that, kill the only family she knows. And if it comes down to it… you’ll take the knife in the back, the blaster shot, the beating, whatever happens.

“Thanks Omega.” You smiled, but it was fake, and you were sure it probably looked wrong. “You head up now. I’ll be fine back here.”

She looked unsure and you nodded your head, urging her on. She exited and you released a breath you held. You closed the door and shut off the light.

You heard footsteps, your name being called, but you stayed hidden. Eventually you felt the ship jolt around a bit, and you could tell you’d just exited hyper space and were flying through the atmosphere. Another couple minutes later, a soft thud confirming that you’d landed. You felt adrenaline start pulsing through your body, your fingertips felt like they were being zapped with electricity.

Here we go.

You slipped your mask on, a memento of the clone wars you fought in. You used to always wear it, that was until you befriended the misfit clones. You felt protected when you wore it though, and you needed as much protection as you could get right now.

You shook your head a few times. Maybe they don’t know. Maybe they don’t know. Maybe they don’t know. You kept repeating it in your head. Almost like a mantra. You grabbed your bag and exited the room.

“Sera! There you are!” Wreckers loud voice boomed down the hall. You flinched a little. He didn’t charge at you. He smiled his big goofy grin, swaggering down the hall. He didn’t look like he was going to pummel you. You waited expectantly. “Here I am…” you forced a laugh.

“Where were you?” Hunter spoke and emerged from behind Wrecker. His eyes tried to meet yours, but you avoided direct contact. You didn’t walk up to approach either of them. You watched Hunter now. He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt you either.

This could be a trick. The clones killed the Jedi by tricking them, it had to be the only way. You stayed on guard. You answered Hunter, “Just around. Felt like being alone.”

“Okay then...” His eyebrows knit together, and his arms folded across his chest. You couldn’t tell if he believed you. Hunter was always difficult to read. The boys knew you coveted alone time, so you thought your excuse was believable. Technically it was partially true.

“Well I’m here, we’re back, and we can get off the ship now, right Tech? Echo?” You hollered down the hall. Hunter had an eyebrow raised, analyzing your behavior. You tried to ignore him.

“Yes, we’re opening the doors now.” You heard Tech reply. Right on queue, the ship's exit ramp opened.

You rushed out quickly, managing to get past Wrecker. You breathed the fresh air in. Almost out of this. Then it’s time to disappear. You still had your old Jedi cruiser hidden. Now it was time to put it to use, hopefully you didn’t get gunned down by an Imperial ship.

“Sera, wait up!” You heard Wrecker barrel down. You held your breath, hairs standing up. “How did you make that jump earlier? It was so far!” His hands made a motion to exaggerate it. “Did something explode??” He said excitedly. You didn’t think about how that logic made no sense. You only stood frozen.

“Explosives couldn’t have done that Wrecker.” Tech chimed in. “And isn’t it obvious?” He was standing at the exit door of the Havoc, looking at his data pad. “Sera is a Jedi.”

[softboywriting]

In Sickness & In Health | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Being sick on your three year anniversary sucks, but Shawn is there to take care of you regardless. [fluff] [non au]

Word Count: 1.6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Getting sick is never fun, no matter what the ailment may be. It's been a long while since you've been ill, years perhaps. So long in fact you've forgotten what it is to be plagued by a stuffy head and a sore throat, to live off cough drops and NyQuil as if they are your life blood. Being sick with a cold is not a plight you'd wish upon anyone and you truly hope no one would wish upon you, but here you are, your eyes and nose red, throat on fire like you've swallowed a torch. It's that time of year when the air gets crisp and people tend to gather together to stay warm and stay out of the cold. The time when viruses and bacteria spread like wildfire in the wind among humans. Wildfire that's burned it's way into your body.

You lay in bed, blankets up to your chin. Fuzzy socks adorn your cold feet, and you rest, propped up on three pillows behind you. You've got a bedside table full of beverages you've worked your way through during the day. Water, tea, what was once warm cider and some orange juice. Truth be told, you should get up and take them to the kitchen and get fresh water, it's been quite a while since you filled the bottle that's nearly empty.

The clock on your nightstand reads a quarter till three in the afternoon. Shawn will be home soon, maybe you could wait until he gets there. Maybe he could get you some fresh tea too. Mmm, fresh tea and a warm blanket. Yeah, you'd ask him to throw one of the couch blankets into the drier for you.

"Baby?" A voice floats through the house. It's Shawn and you smile, glad not to be alone and sick anymore. "I'm home."

The door to the bedroom opens and you give him a weak wave. He smiles, the concern and worry written all over it but still hidden behind a gentle turn of his lips. You know he frets every time you get sick, every time you have so much as menstrual cramps. Shawn hates to see you not feeling one hundred percent yourself, he feels as if he has to fix it, no matter what.

"I need water," you mumble, glancing to the bedside table "I was going to get up."

"Likely story." Shawn says, taking your water bottle and then reaching for your forehead. He presses his palm to your skin. "You feel feverish. When is the last time you took some medicine?"

"Um..."

He sighs heavily, disappointment evident. "I'll get your medicine and some water. Would you like anything else?"

"Mint tea."

"And food? Have you eaten?"

"No."

Shawn cups your cheek and you look away, not wanting to meet his eyes. You know he wants to scold you. "Do I need to stay home for a day or two so you will get better?"

"No! I'll take care of myself."

"You’re sure? Because I really miss my girlfriend." He pets your hair back off your forehead. "All I've got now is this sick blob."

"Hey!"

He cracks a smile. He's teasing you, as if he can't resist for one hour. It's what you love about him, how he's always so playful and loving. "I love my sick blob." He leans over and places a chaste kiss to your temple, hand cupping your cheek as he brings your head to meet his lips. "I'll be back alright? Don't die on me before I finish your tea and some dinner."

You close your eyes and stick your tongue out, faking dead and it earns you a chuckle as he exits the room. You'd love for him to stay with you, to take a few days off from the studio, but you refuse to be selfish. ____________________

The smell of toasted bread and butter breaks through your clogged nasal passages. It consumes you're senses entirely and makes your stomach growl in anticipation. You've got a good idea what Shawn's cooking, but that doesn't make you any less curious. You get up from your bed and wrap a blanket around your shoulders to toddle your way into the kitchen.

As you suspected, he is making grilled cheese.  It's one of the few things he makes better than you, but only because you lack the patience to let the bread cook low and slow while the cheese melts inside. You want your bread toasty immediately, which always results in over toasting or borderline burnt edges with cold cheese.

"Did my irresistible meal lure you from that cocoon you've made?" Shawn asks with a smirk as he flips the sandwich in the pan.

"Yes. Can I have some soup too?"

"Tomato basil is in the microwave now. I got your favourite kind from the cafe down the street."

"You left?"

He shakes his head. "I got it on my way home. I knew you'd be hungry."

You sink into one of the dining chairs at the small table on the outside edge of the kitchen. "You know me so well."

"I do." He places his spatula on the counter and walks over to you. "Is your medicine working?"

"Mmhmm, it's making me less stuffy and my throat is better." You cough a bit and he gives you space, just a step or two back. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"Aren't you afraid of getting sick?"

"Sure, but I wouldn't leave you alone." He goes back to the stove and takes the sandwich out of the pan. It's perfect, as always. "I'd rather catch your cold than know you suffered alone and miserable."

"You're so good to me." You smile softly, and he tilts your head up as he places the grilled cheese in front of you. He's got the kindest look in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"If I ever treat you less than a queen then you should leave me." He places a kiss on your head. "I swear I will always love and care for you when you're in need. I promised you that on our two year anniversary, and I'm going to promise it again now on our three year anniversary."

"Shit...I didn't realize it was already that time." You sigh and he places the bowl of soup in front of you and takes a seat opposite you. "I've been so sick all week I spaced it off."

"It's alright, we can celebrate after you're better."

"True." You take a bite of the sandwich and smile. It's so good, absolutely delicious. "Did you make reservations?"

Shawn nods. "I did, at the italian place downtown. It's fine though, don't worry. I gave the reservations to Brian for a date."

You groan. The italian place was by far the best restaurant in all of downtown Toronto. There was no beating their alfredo with pesto chicken. It's is to die for. You're a little jealous you're missing out but you know Shawn will take you later.

The two of you talk a bit more while you eat. He says he's working on a couple songs with some new writers and that he thinks they may make it to the new album. You ask about his parents and Aaliyah since you haven't seen them in a while. By the time you're down to the bottom of your soup you see something in it. Something dark.

"What's in my soup?" You ask, fishing it out with your spoon. You lift the small round object out of the soup and set it on the table. It's a ring.

"So..." Shawn clears his throat.

You wipe the ring off with a paper towel Shawn got for you earlier. "So what? Are you proposing to me right now Shawn?"

He lets out a nervous laugh. "No not quite, it's a promise ring? I wanted to get you one as a placeholder for a real ring, and I couldn’t wait. It felt wrong not to give it to you today on our anniversary."

You slide it over your ring finger and it fits perfectly. It's a beautiful silver band with three good sized diamonds set in the center of a tiara shape adorned by your birthstone on the sides. "You want to marry me?" You tremble, eyes wide as he stands up and moves over to kneel down beside you.

Shawn takes your hands, so much smaller and delicate than his. He just beams, seemingly lost for words as he stares at you like you're everything in the world. "I would like to someday. Do you accept my promise to love you and marry you one day?"

"Yes," you squeeze his hands. "Someday, I'd love to be your wife."

He stands and presses a kiss to your lips, so sweet and gentle.

"You shouldn't kiss me."

"Eh, a cold isn't going to stop me from telling my girlfriend I love her on our anniversary." He kisses you again, this time with his fingers threaded between yours. "Nothing could keep me away from you."

"I love you so much," You mumble, trying to hold back tears, head pressed to his for a sense of stability.

"I love you too, happy anniversary honey." He says and wraps his arms around you, cradling you close as you let yourself cry because you're so happy. Never did you think he'd give you a ring, especially not while you're sick and moping, but here you are and there that beautiful ring is on your finger. You suppose the vow to love your significant other in sickness and in health truly is one Shawn has proven he will stick to.

The end.

______________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[katierosefun]

12, 27 [ever in our favor], and 29 [collapse] for the fic asks? :D

hi arti!! thank you for the ask!! // from these behind the scenes asks

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

oooh, that’s a tough one! i think i generally write most of the tropes that i want to write, but i really want to take a stab at like…fake dating. or fake family. fake family,,,,oh man oh no (there goes another fic idea….) but like…..the image of characters (specifically anakin, obi-wan, and ahsoka) pretending to be an actual family for an undercover mission,,,,,,,,,y ea h

(i think that would be so cute. but also hilarious.)

27. If you were ever to do a sequel to ever in our favor, what do you think might happen in it?

that’s a really interesting question! i haven’t really thought of a sequel, even though i know i left the ending with basically a very open ending--hm, but if i was going to do a sequel, i feel like the natural course of action would be seeing obi-wan, anakin, and ahsoka’s last stand against the games? so defeat president palpatine, maybe figure out what the heck is going on within the game makers’ room...but also i think it would be cool to also see obi-wan, anakin, and ahsoka kind of...sabotage the game maker’s room? and see if they can tear the whole thing apart from the inside-out. (so a very different route from mockingjay, but only because i’d be super intrigued by a plot circling more of an espionage vibe,,,,disguises,,,,lol that’s the vibe that i would go with if i was writing a sequel). 

29. Send me a word. If it’s in your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic. [collapse] 

okay, so i couldn’t find it directly in my wips, but i found this in the outline of one of my wips instead, so i hope that counts: ·       

Poor Obi still tries to be a Functional Human Being. This fails. Results in the good ol’ stagger and collapse because who doesn’t love that trope amirite

-- i love leaving little sarcastic notes for myself in the outlines. all my outlines are semi-serious and then the occasional sarcastic joke/note at myself. 

lol i’m sorry if this has gotten way too repetitive, but essentially, this is a post-rots sickfic that has been in my wips folder for....a while now (but i swear i’ll get around to finishing it and posting  it!! hopefully soon!!! hopefully by mid-march at the latest???). obi-wan, ahsoka, and rex are all living on tatooine together (this is an au series on my ao3! too lazy to link it rn), and it takes place maybe 10 years after the fall of the republic? 

so basically, one day beru comes over and panics because luke’s missing and there’s a sandstorm brewing and obi-wan, of course, goes i’ll find him and in very obi-wan fashion, tells ahsoka and rex to stay here with beru, things will be fine. and things are mostly fine! obi-wan finds luke, but apparently, you can get a specific illness from spending too much time out on the desert on tatooine, so obi-wan gets sick protecting luke. manages to get luke back home safe, but typical sickfic chaos ensues. 

only it’s a little more intense because this specific illness on tatooine is apparently Very Bad and most patients are recommended to go off-world to heal but do you really think obi-wan kenobi’s gonna go off-world? no. 

[lutrain2020]

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Brook!

Commission: -

Social Media: Tumblr: @newobsessioneveryweek​​ AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brook182/pseuds/Brook182

Tell us a little bit about you!

Well, firstly I have anxiety, like, anxiety in many forms. By that I mean my psychiatric diagnosed me with, and I quote, "mixed anxiety" whatever that means. That said, I don't with rejection or unanswered messages very well. Also... OCD. Also also a tic disorder. So I'm a jumpy one. My eyes are also really weird. They're a weird mix of green, brown, and blue. It's hecin' strange. I love pizza and I think Oreos are overrated even though I love them too. I'm from South Africa 🇿🇦 and as a result, I love biltong. Deal with it. I'm not athletic but I used to love running when I was a kid. Lastly, I'm afraid of the dark and the ocean. I can't swim.

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing?

Jin (jinmukangwrites on Tumblr) is a big inspiration as well as Jay (Estajay) and Din (dinfeanorial). They are such amazing writers and I don't think I would have started writing if it weren't for Jin.

What got you into writing?

Writing has been my passion since high school. I loved writing essays and oral reports. For a while I've wanted to be a writer. I think the main thing that inspired me was my desperate want to have a creative talent/skill and drawing was way out of my league (though I have started drawing a month ago)

What's your favorite part of the writing process?

Editing. Just knowing that I've created something and FINISHED it is a great feeling. Editing is just putting a nice dress on a beautiful woman - so to speak. The final bit of work that will make a good story better. Grammatical correctness and proper punctuation is always a plus when reading a good story.

What's your least favorite part of the writing process?

Getting started. Picture this: you have an idea, it's a great idea, so wonderful you will have people weep at its brilliance. If only you could get it down into words. You sit at your computer just thinking about the idea and how to translate your thoughts into words. I always tell people that my thoughts don't translate well, and it's true. It takes an inordinate amount of time before I'm happy with something I've written.

Whats your favorite type of scene to write?

I love writing angst and as a result I love writing pain. I'm not a sadist - I swear.

What's the hardest for you to write?

I can't stand writing angst for one character only to have it turn into angst for a completely different character! I mean, stay out of this Legend! Go home Twilight, and dammit Time, leave your childhood trauma at home!

What's your favorite genre to write?

AnGsT iS kInG! Extreme is cool too. Fluff is a last resort.

What fandoms do you enjoy writing for?

I've only ever written LU fics, so... Only LU I guess. Oh, I actually wrote (and am still trying to write) a botw fix about Sidon and Link.

What's the work you are most proud of?

A Fashion Show Of Sort. My very first fic. It did pretty well. https://archiveofourown.org/works/21605962 Also Just Be Happy (It's a Warriors Fic) https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197189 Also an interactive sicfic I wrote https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683665 But serioudly, I love all (most?) of my children. Have a gander if you wish: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22183228 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850423 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606745 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606619 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606556 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606184

Is there a specific scene you are particularly proud of?

Wild didn’t get sick easily, but when he did it wasn’t pretty; headaches, fever, sore throat, puffy eyes, dizziness, nausea, the works. It started out as a dull throbbing in his head. Nothing too serious. Little did he know it was the harbinger of much suffering. It crept upon him like a Molduga; lying in wait until finally the illness reared its ugly head and struck him with such intense force that even the faintest whiff of food made him almost disgorge his stomach contents and before he knew it he was curled up in a loving mom-hug delivered by Sky who was whispering soothing words while he stroked Wild’s sweat-dampened hair. “You know, you don’t need to baby me. I’m fine,” Wild said as he tried to escape the embrace, though his congested, gravelly voice did nothing in the way of assisting his argument. Sky shushed him, gently but forcefully pulling him back to his chest. “You don’t need to act all tough just because you’re a hero. Everyone gets sick every once in a while.” “But I’m fi-” “Hush now!” Wild let out a loud, annoyed sigh of defeat. He was too drained to fight back anyway. Despite his insistence that he was fine, he was most certainly, in every way, shape, and form, not fine. In fact he felt positivity awful; His throat burned like he had swallowed a litre of acid, he was so congested that he had nearly choked while taking a long drink of water, his body ached to the point where he could barely stretch a toe out without wincing and his head pained as if Twilight had repeatedly struck it with his ball and chain. To top it all of Wild couldn’t even think about food without feeling sick to his stomach. “You’re insufferable. Why are you the one taking care of me anyway? I’d have thought Twilight would’ve jumped at the chance to play caretaker. Especially since he’s the one always yelling at me for not taking care of myself” “Oh he wanted to, but I volunteered first. Trust me, I did you a favour. Time sent him to go get firewood instead. Hyrule went too. They should back soon in case you want to get rid of me,” Sky chirped...

Is there something you had to work through that forced you to grow as a writer?

I had to learn to get over imposter syndrome. I had to tell myself that I was a good writer in order to be a good writer.

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Nope, not one.

Where do you post your finished works?

Ao3! Brook182 is my username

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 101

Hello, my readers. I’m shocked at the fact that it’s the end of January already, I swear it’s only been at most two weeks of 2021 at this point. Whoever is stealing the time, stop it. Anyway, stay tuned for a spoilery glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure Gone Mini at the end of the  post.  

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet  little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have  to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 47 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 6th of January. Chapter 48 is 2/3rds written, and the scheduled posting date is 3rd of February, if I can get it written by then. There’s kinda more left to write than usual at this point, so I may have to postpone by a week. We shall see.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays, except when I don’t manage to. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over  the three weeks waiting period.

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection  in the universe as “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two  dorks!

Progress: Chapter 28 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 27th of November. Chapter 29 has been started, and the  scheduled posting date is a Friday, once I get it written. There will be a sneak-peek on Thursday when I get it done. Still no progress - I will probably drop this soon to stop dragging it forever. I do still want to write at least one more chapter where I can say as much in the author’s notes so it’s not just me abruptly marking the fic as finished out of the blue. Tho that’ll have to wait until I get enough motivation to write it, because at the very least this fic deserves an inspired, lovingly written last chapter; not one that’s completely forced and bad.

I have 10 prompts left. Note to new people who might be looking at this: I’m not taking more prompts.

—–  

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

A bunch of Hazbin chapter fics, some started, some just on the idea phase

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here’s the promised sneak-peek into Adventure gone Mini (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due  to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!  

Mini

Walking was tough. Not as tough as it had been right before his illness got the better of him, but his stamina was still diminished from the last dregs of said illness. The bog flippers felt familiar by now – finally – but the tiredness persisted and he definitely shouldn't be on his feet yet, much less trekking long distances. Link walked with his own two, heavy feet anyway, because Sidon was potentially worse off than he was now and he didn't think he could return the favour and carry Sidon, should he collapse. Mind, normally he most likely could – he was plenty strong – but not in his current, weakened state. He honestly wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to get out of the Lost Woods the right way or if he'd prefer to give up at this point. Giving up would mean the end of walking until they regrouped and set off again, while finding the way out meant still having to walk more, hungry and ill, until they reached the Minish city in the Korok Forest. He hadn't bothered looking that far ahead in the map when they still had it, so he didn't know how long it would take to get to said city after they got out of the mist. He could only hope it was closer to hours than days.

—–  

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3   My FFnet   My Ko-fi    Radiohusk Discord Group invitation

[silentexplorer18]

I’m alive: an update

Hey everybody! Long time no see.

This is gonna be a bit of a long post, just gonna throw a read more here for all the mobile users who don’t want an eternal post on their dashes every time they log on.  TLDR at the bottom.

I notice there are asks in my inbox and notifications in my activity thing, and I want you to know that I see that there are things for me and that people have been interacting, and I appreciate it.  I’ll be looking at/responding to everything as I’m able to.

I’m back in school and, honestly, I’m a dead gal walking.�� I’ve been gone for a month(?) and this is the first night that I’ve really had a “break” to do something other than school.  I’m loving some of my classes, hating others, I’m sure you all know how that goes.

Right now, I’m trying to get back on my feet and get adjusted to the radical ways my life has changed in the last several weeks/months.  When things hopefully (dear god, hopefully) stabilize in my life a little bit, I’m hoping to be able to balance some self care (and writing!) with the myriad of other things I’m dealing with.

In the last month, I’ve missed reading stuff on here so much.  Y’all, go send @slytherinbarnes and @stuckonspidey some love for me because I’m seriously missing Sub Rosa and it echoes through so much.

(Oh my gosh, Lilly, you’ve finished the sequel and I’m so far behind! 😭  My heart! I can’t wait to read and find out what happens! And, obviously, you were gonna finish it, but here’s a high five for finishing it because writing’s hard and authors deserve more support!)

(And Sb!  You’re already on season 3??? I’m so far behind and I’ve got so much amazing writing to catch up on!  And I swear if we’re still in the slow burn stage I will be having a word with you!  I’m so impressed with how far you’ve gotten; I feel like I blinked and you made it through season 2.  I can’t wait to read it!)

It’s going to be very hard to go back to schoolwork tomorrow and not binge both of these series.

Also go check out the Very Harry Potter Summer’s Masterlist because there are a lot of great fics on there and I’m so mad school started during that because there’s so many fics on that list that I wanna read and haven’t had time to yet!

As for me writing, I have a stack of WIPs I’m going to start nibbling on when school permits.  It’s probably going to be a hot minute until I post another fic (she says as though she’s posted much since Christmas...), but I do have lots of ideas in my writer hat that I just have to actually, you know, write.  I have two that I’m loving but I have no bloody clue where they’re going (one being Draco x kind of an OC and the other being Drarry).  But there’s a stack.  More google docs than I dare count.  So I promise that eventually (slowly) there will be things coming.

For a while I was honestly really stressed that I wasn’t writing and posting fics, but the truth is, I just like writing, and when I get to finishing a piece, I’ll get to it.  There’s no point worrying or stressing over something that’s meant to be fun.

I hope all of you are staying healthy and safe.  I think school has started for a lot of people right now, so I’m wishing you all the best with your semesters!  Try to do as I say and not as I do lol.  Practice self care, drink water, stop for meals, stretch, get sleep, tend to your mental health.

TW covid: As cases continue to rise where I am, I want to remind everyone to remember to practice safe hygiene practices like washing your hands, social distancing, and wearing masks properly!  Just because you may not become critically ill doesn’t mean that everyone around you won’t.

There’s probably more things that I was meaning to include in this, but it’s late, I’m tired, I’ve misspelled so much on this post already, and I think I’m gonna cut it here for the night.

I’m sending all of you love and good vibes.  Take care of yourselves, and I hope to talk to all of you again soon.

-Silent

TLDR: I’m still around, but school is a monster of work right now.  Hopefully soon I’ll have a balance figured out so I can practice self care and start writing again.  I’m slowly working on WIPs and eventually those will be posted.  So in the meantime go read Sub Rosa and it echoes through (both linked above) by Sb and Lilly because they’re awesome and their work deserves kudos.  Take care of yourselves and good luck to everyone starting school.  I’m wishing you all well! -S

[huffle-dork]

HEY IF YOU’RE A FAN OF MY CUROSITY KILLED the CAT FIC

HI I GOT OFF MY PROCRASTINATING ASS AND CHAPTER 7 IS DONE!!! ILL BE POSTING IT EITHER TONIGHT OR TOMORROW MORNING.

CHECK OUT THIS LINK TO RE-READ/ CATCH UP!! (I’ll be making a master post soon I swear!!)

I’m so excited to finally be inspired for this story again!!

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through V

Chapter: 5/16

Rating: M (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.

One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.

"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.

He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.

       youre gonna love me

The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.

        do i not already?

        well yes         but youre gonna love me EVEN more

        what have you done

        well i happened to stop by the club last night

        oh god what did you do

        wow is that how little you trust me

        can you blame me

        suppose not         ANYWAY i got talking to paulie

        surprise surprise

        do you want the good news or not???

        fine fine sorry

        AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie         and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account

        first of all fuck you for calling him that         second of all wtf is onlyfans

        oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century

        ......         care to grace me with your knowledge?

        basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see         its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes         MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him

        but i have to pay?

        well weve all gotta make a living

        i can basically see him naked for free

        but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed         well you will but nobody will know at least         so do you want the link or not???

Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.

        fine

        where are your manners richard??

        can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please

        alright calm down         let me know if its worth while i might have a look

        idk if im even gonna look at it         paying for porn is a little dated

        treat yourself ringo         id offer to pay but im broke

        if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?

        well SOMEONE had to go

        they really didnt

        im supporting my local economy

        i dont think thats how that works

        sure it is         anyway here you go

Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.

Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.

Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.

        howd the wank go??

        john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird

        youre right sorry         so how did it go???

        if you must know         i havent had a wank         i havent even paid for entry

        now whos the one being inappropriate??

        ha ha

        why havent you???

        feels weird

        oh i see         youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money

        you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn

        hey now watch yourself         ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL

        go ahead

        and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting         ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them

        every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that

        im not joking

        neither am i         you wank A LOT

        ringooooo just buy it i swear to god         if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back

        on top of the money you already owe me?

        have you always been such a capitalist

        youre not doing a very good job of convincing me

        fine         spikes cock         now are you convinced???

        maybe

        naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month         convinced??

        fine fine         if itll shut you up

        im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'

        i hate you

        now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right'         anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at         even i wont stand in the way of a good wank         so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man

        im older than you

        DONT BOTHER REPLYING

Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?

This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.

There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.

One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.

He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.

Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.

This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.

Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.

When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.

        sooo how did the wank go

         who knows          but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower

         well before you do that i have even more good news 

         can it not wait?

         NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower

         well arent you considerate          and unnecessarily graphic

         thats me          anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not

         im still waiting for the good news

         well if youd let me FINISH          next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go          youll never guess what it is

         what is it?

         guess

         you just said ill never guess

         youre no fun

         WHAT IS IT

         alright alright keep your hair on          its a crossdressing event          high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff

         im still waiting for the good news

         OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on

Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.

[yeeetandayeee]

01/01/2020 - 01/12/2020

HEYA!

So i read a lot of fanfic. like. a lot. of fanfic. its well written, awesome characters, amazing authors and artists, is something i can easily keep with me when I am on the go bc i can leave it open on my cell’s internet app, and its fun. fun to read, fun to connect w the creators, fun to experience characters in other ways. so what imma do on sundays - maybe weekly, maybe more spread out - is post links for all the fics i’ve read in that period. this is the first one. settle in for a crap ton of epically written works to which I claim absolutely no credit, i’m just a reader of these great works! Again, no credit to me, all credit to the amazing authors of these works!

I want my Dad! (5369 words) by Stormborn_88 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Original Characters, Ned Leeds Additional Tags: dad tony, son peter, Protective Tony Stark, peter whump, Hurt Peter, One Shot, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Worried Tony Stark, Father-Son Relationship, Parent Tony Stark, Dad!Tony, Angry Tony Stark, Hurt Peter Parker, Police, Police Brutality, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Being the son of Tony Stark has its pros and its cons. But Peter didn't expect such ill-treatment from a police officer, just because of his last name.

Words Echo (Through My Head) (6450 words) by Buckets_Of_Stars Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Happy Hogan Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: Prompt Fill, dad tony, son peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Worried Tony Stark, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, not team Cap friendly, Steve Rogers is an ass, Doctor Bruce Banner - Freeform, BAMF Tony Stark, trigger warning for guns, trigger warning for blood, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I suck at tagging, Oops, Precious Peter Parker, Out of Character, Oneshot, Complete, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Peter Is Out Of Charater, Don't Like Don't Read, Trigger warning for anxiety, Peter Stark - Freeform, Mama Bear Tony Stark, STEVE IS OUT OF CHARACTER, TONY IS OUT OF CHARACTER, PETER IS OUT OF CHARACTER Summary:

A quick stop at the Avengers Compound quickly becomes something much more when Peter and Tony meet up with Steve Rogers.

And he is not happy.

Hold on (2810 words) by wolfypuppypiles Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Sad, Angst, Blood, Hurt Peter, Worried Tony, Crying, Near Death Experiences, Protective Tony Stark, Goodbyes, im so sorry, but it ends well, Happy Ending, Emotions, Suspense, idk what else to tag Summary:

Peter had just wanted some snacks. Just a trip to the store to get some food for a hungry teenager. But when someone needs help, Spider-Man can't walk away, even if it means putting himself in danger.

Not quite the backseat (3079 words) by Webtrinsic Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Helen Cho Additional Tags: Father-Son Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Hurt Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Revelations, Shooting, Claustrophobia, Protective Tony Stark, Stitches, Guilt, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Minor Original Character(s) Series: Part 1 of Tight Chest & Tight Spaces Summary:

Tony really had no other choice than to push Peter into the trunk through the backseat so they wouldn't find the kid. He hadn't known about the boy's claustrophobia, but you find out something new everyday. Recommend the whole series

The Merits of Mid-Range Weaponry (4364 words) by Rob_the_Chemist Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker Additional Tags: Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Team Dynamics, Communication Issues, Hiding Injury, Warning: Language, Warning: Graphic depiction of injury, Clint Cares about Peter, Everyone cares about Peter, Hand-to-Hand Combat Doesn't Fix Everything, Why Can't Peter do Weapon, peter whump, Peter-centric Summary:

This is just Peter’s sort of luck: getting speared straight through but somehow remaining mostly whole. It’s the kind of irony that he would find amusing if it didn’t apply so often to him

Rated for language and graphic description of injury. Basically just shameless Peter whump.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) (3422 words) by aloneintherain Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: hurt!Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Peter is an Avenger, Sam Is An Avenger, Protective Avengers, Whump, Team Dynamics, team fic, Panic Attacks, Guilt Summary:

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

One More Vow (742 words) by notjustmom Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Stephen Strange Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker Additional Tags: Established Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, spiderson, Post-Battle, Alternate Universe, Peter is Tony's Biological Son, Angst, Fluff Series: Part 54 of Ironstrange, Part 12 of Tumblr fics 2018-19, Part 1 of One More Vow Summary:

This is a new Ironstrange and Spiderson universe that will have backstory soon. This story deals with the aftermath of a battle where Peter saves Stephen - to make matters worse, he will be heading to college soon, and the boys are dealing with, or not dealing with a soon to be empty nest...

A gift for babywarg, who requested Ironstrange and Spiderson.Part of a series, all are recommended!

Publicity Parent (36966 words) by Bowtiez Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Tony Stark & Stark Robots, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Avengers Team Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Friday (Marvel) Additional Tags: Kid Fic, Kid Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Hurt/Comfort, Orphan Peter Parker, Foster Care, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Parent Tony Stark, Fluff, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Cute, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Publicity Stunt (at first), Swearing, Tony Stark learning to be a dad, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Caring Tony Stark, Clingy Peter Parker, cute kid, Whump, Peter Parker Whump, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Whump Series: Part 1 of Learning to Parent Summary:

Tony's losing his credit with the public. Pepper's got a plan to fix it.

Enter Peter Parker, eight-year-old orphan from Queens, New York.

Tony has no idea how children work, so why is he so drawn to little Peter Parker?

(More Tags to be added as the book progresses) The sequel is amazing too!

Unexpected Finds (50491 words) by snarkymuch Chapters: 22/22 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Tony Stark, Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Parent Tony Stark, Homeless Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Self-Harm, Tony is trying but it's hard, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Depression, Depressed Peter Parker, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Identity Reveal, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Tony Needs a Hug, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, some gorey descriptions, Awesome Pepper Potts, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Will never probably be compliant with much, I do what I want Series: Part 1 of Lost and Found Summary:

With May gone, Peter is an orphan and sent to foster care. He doesn’t stay long, the abuse he receives there becoming too much.

Despite being homeless, he still puts on the suit, Spider-Man getting him through when being Peter Parker couldn’t. It’s a chance encounter that brings Tony and Peter together.

Doing the right thing seems easy, but in reality, it’s far from it. Tony is going to make mistakes and so is Peter, but maybe, in the end, they’ll be alright. Recommend the whole series!

***Story edited and sections rewritten as of 9/23/2019***

The Missing 92 Days (78234 words) by YellowDistress Chapters: 13/13 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, May Parker Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Psychological Torture, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Protective Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hydra Peter Parker, Sort Of Summary:

Peter wakes, ripping through the surface of the bath water, surrounded by the bodies of Hydra Agents.

Their blood is on his hands.

There's Always Room for Doubt- I Mean, Dessert (2885 words) by mttraspberrypie Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) Additional Tags: Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug Series: Part 1 of Tales of a Sweet Spider-Son and His Embarrassing Irondad Summary:

Peter Parker goes out to dinner with his totally-not-dad Tony Stark. It's too bad he's an anxiety ridden mess. Recommend the whole series.

The Wolf Spider (50766 words) by PeterNeedsAHugParker Chapters: 36/36 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Loki & Peter Parker, Cassie Lang & Peter Parker Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Hulk (Marvel), Vision (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Nick Fury, Avengers Team (MCU), T'Challa (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Baron Zemo, Loki (Marvel), Cassie Lang, Harry Osborn, Gwen Stacy Additional Tags: Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Wanda Maximoff, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Avengers Family, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Hydra (Marvel), Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, My First AO3 Post, Hydra!Peter, spider son, spider mom - Freeform Summary:

Peter Parker was never raised with his Aunt May or Uncle Ben. He was raised by HYDRA to be a weapon just like, or even better then, the Winter Soldier. After ten years, Peter has lost all hope that he will ever make it out of HYDRA's clutches. Until the Avengers are unknowingly sent to retrieve Peter. Maybe they can help Peter understand that he can be more then some weapon.

AU where the team actually talked out their problems, like an actual team would.

like the sun (3840 words) by hailingstars Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Nebula (Marvel) Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Post-Endgame, Fix-It, Tony's hoodies, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Car Accidents, Protective Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker Series: Part 1 of irondad bingo Summary:

2 times Peter steals a hoodie from Tony and 1 time he doesn't have to

Irondad bingo prompt: Trope, Peter wearing Tony's hoodie. Recommend the whole series!

Six for Hell (18531 words) by romeoandjulietyouwish Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Stephen Strange, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes, Bruce Banner, Hulk (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Happy Hogan, Steve Rogers, May Parker (Spider-Man), Ned Leeds Additional Tags: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Avengers Tower, Protective Clint Barton, Hurt, Blood, lying, Dark Character, Crying, Hugs, Angst with a Happy Ending, i promise this has a happy ending, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Stephen Strange, Protective Bruce Banner, Panic Attacks, Attempted Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Torture, (not graphic), Bruce is the deus ex machina of this story, Nightmares, y'all this hurts, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

After a mission, the Avengers are much different than normal. For one, they're trying to kill Peter Parker and he has no clue why.

Delusions of Happiness (7393 words) by Oracle507 Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Happy Hogan & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Tony Stark, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Child Neglect, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, I'm Bad At Titles Summary:

When Tony went to go recruit Spider-Man to fight the rouge Avengers, he'd expected to find a bright, hyperactive boy. Instead, he found a sad kid in a sad apartment that brought back memories he hadn't thought about in a long time.

The Fire's Out (But Still It Burns) (55833 words) by silver_bubbles Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker & Aunt May, Peter Parker & New York, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker (past), NYPD officers, Citizens, Original Female Characters (background), Original Male Characters (background), Miles Morales (mentioned), Jefferson Davis (Marvel) (mentioned), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Whump, Angst, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Past Character Death, Police Brutality, shameless whump, Blood, handwavy knowledge of medical procedures, I tried to be funny, but i also tried to make people cry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trust Issues, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Not Infinity War (Part 1) Compliant, Homeless Peter Parker, NOT STARKER - Freeform Summary:

Early December in New York City is brutal. With temperatures hovering in the low fifties and mid-forties, there isn't much wiggle room- you either have what you need or you don't.

Peter falls somewhere in the second category.

He's made a list of what he has, keeps it zipped up in his old backpack to make sure he hasn't lost anything important. It isn't long: a carefully folded wad of cash in the bottom of his bag, hidden away to make sure nobody else can find it; three granola bars for emergencies; ibuprofen (fighting crime isn't safe, kids); his Spider-Man suit (that's what he's decided to call himself); a pair of extra socks; his pictures.

That's it. Everything Peter owns fits in one bag.

That's his lot in life.

Pathetic.

(In which May and Ben died in tragic circumstances, leaving a fifteen-year-old Peter Parker to fend for himself. Enter Tony Stark: genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist, and- apparently- Spider-dad.)

The Fire's Out (But Still It Burns) (55833 words) by silver_bubbles Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker & Aunt May, Peter Parker & New York, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker (past), NYPD officers, Citizens, Original Female Characters (background), Original Male Characters (background), Miles Morales (mentioned), Jefferson Davis (Marvel) (mentioned), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Whump, Angst, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Past Character Death, Police Brutality, shameless whump, Blood, handwavy knowledge of medical procedures, I tried to be funny, but i also tried to make people cry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trust Issues, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Not Infinity War (Part 1) Compliant, Homeless Peter Parker, NOT STARKER - Freeform Summary:

Early December in New York City is brutal. With temperatures hovering in the low fifties and mid-forties, there isn't much wiggle room- you either have what you need or you don't.

Peter falls somewhere in the second category.

He's made a list of what he has, keeps it zipped up in his old backpack to make sure he hasn't lost anything important. It isn't long: a carefully folded wad of cash in the bottom of his bag, hidden away to make sure nobody else can find it; three granola bars for emergencies; ibuprofen (fighting crime isn't safe, kids); his Spider-Man suit (that's what he's decided to call himself); a pair of extra socks; his pictures.

That's it. Everything Peter owns fits in one bag.

That's his lot in life.

Pathetic.

(In which May and Ben died in tragic circumstances, leaving a fifteen-year-old Peter Parker to fend for himself. Enter Tony Stark: genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist, and- apparently- Spider-dad.)

tree houses and high tech loveys (2023 words) by paperback92 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts Additional Tags: Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Mid-Credits Scene Compliant, i operate outside of canon now, sorry - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Whump, Parent Tony Stark, Iron Dad Summary:

Tony runs towards the sounds of her screams. They lead him to where he had last left her and Pete: the tree house. The same tree house that was in one piece an hour ago is now hunks of broken wood, shattered and scattered along the ground. And Morgan-

His daughter’s stuck in the middle of a web that’s suspended between the tree that the clubhouse was in and its next-door neighbor.

Hard Knocks (25448 words) by TempestRising Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Ned Leeds Additional Tags: Peter Parker is a Foster Kid, Aunt May is dead sorry, Parent Tony Stark, Tony adopts Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, All the Avengers Are Dads, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, This is the musical Annie Summary:

Tony gets a foster kid as a PR stunt to distract from his Iron Man disasters. That foster kid is Peter Parker, who's been kicked around the system for months. Peter is hesitant to trust a "new family" and frankly Tony is, too. Cue bonding. Cue bad foster stereotypes. Cue the Avengers taking in baby Peter.

Or: Yes this is the musical Annie.

Repeat After Me (3896 words) by battybatzgirl Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Additional Tags: Precious Peter Parker, Father-Son Relationship, Worried Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Rhodey is So Done, Hurt Peter Parker, Gunshot Wounds, If Tony is Peter's Dad then Rhodey is Peter's exasperated Uncle, Humor, Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Tony’s face hardens as he says, “What kid.” “I don’t know, some twelve year old—” Below him, the kid coughs out, “Fifteen.” “—Fifteen year old—” Tony scrubs a hand across his face. “Don’t tell me he’s wearing a dorky shirt with a chemistry pun on it.” Rhodey frowns. That was oddly specific. Glancing down, he looks at what little he can see of the kid’s shirt—which isn't much since there’s so much blood now, but what could be once called a cartoon joke is printed on it. “Um, yeah?” “Son of a bitch.”

Otherwise known as how Rhodey finds out about how old Peter is, and how badly he needs to beat Tony with a stick.

The Five Times Peter Denies an Illness or Injury + the One Time He Doesn't (3308 words) by whumphoarder Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, No Romantic Relationship(s) Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan Additional Tags: Sick Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, 5+1 Things, Vomiting, Broken Bones, Stabbing, Laryngitis, Common Cold, Minor Injuries, gratuitous use of the word kid, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Hiding Medical Issues, Chicken Pox, Irondad, Iron Dad Summary:

In which Peter is a little shit who can't admit when he's hurt or sick.

Always, Kiddo: Always (4650 words) by PinkEasterEggs Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, May Parker (Spider-Man), Original Characters Additional Tags: Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Swearing, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Mentioned May Parker (Spider-Man), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Worried Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Angst with a Happy Ending, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant Series: Part 1 of IronDad Prompts To Warm And Break Your Heart Summary:

“Y-you don’t hate me?” Peter’s voice was meek and small as he choked on a sob.

Tony immediately shot back up, looking at Peter with confusion and horor. “Hate you? No, why?”

“Because i’m w-weak.”

Tony knows that something is up with Peter. He's been acting differently and shying away far more often. However, when he finds out the truth, he never expected it to be so heartbreaking.

#1: May's Abusive Boyfriend - The whole series is great

And in the middle of the flood I felt my worth (6117 words) by frostysunflowers Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Peter Parker Whump, Anxiety, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Food Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sad Peter Parker, Insecurity, Fluff, Miscommunication, hunger, Whump, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro Series: Part 1 of Irondad Bingo The series is great! Summary:

Peter was hungry.

No, that was a lie.

He was absolutely starving.

[kneworder]

chapter 2 of recompense (for all my crimes of self defense), my post season 2 stranger things fic is up now!! read it on AO3 now here, on FanFiction.Net here, or below the break on this very post!!

Chapter 1: AO3  ||  Fanfiction.net  || link to tumblr post

Chapter 2: kind hearts don’t grab any glory

Thin, watery light streams through the window, drawing creatures in shadow across the ivory carpet. The light attacks Steve’s eyes the second he opens them, like knives pushing through to his brain. “Fuck,” he croaks, and tries to bat the light away.

Nothing happens, predictably.

Sitting up is such a daunting task that he lays there with his eyes shut for another hour. It takes that long for him to remember how to close the blinds, or that there are even blinds to begin with.

Steve pushes up from the couch, but his wrecked hand crumples when he puts weight on it, and he falls back, the world upending and spinning around him. Steve tries again, pushing up from his elbow this time, and manages to force himself into a sitting position. He puts his head in his hands, breathing deeply and focusing on anything but the pain. He feels too hot and too cold at the same time, and suddenly, he’s hyperaware of his jacket, rough against his skin and radiating a sickly warmth. Frantically, he tries to escape it. One arm gets stuck in its sleeve, and he stops abruptly, exhaustion overtaking him. He sits there, trapped in his own jacket, until he regains the strength to pull it all the way off.

He’s had sports injuries before, and gotten in fights before, but this is different. This is a whole new level he never wanted to reach. Idly, he thinks, something’s wrong , and almost laughs because that’s the understatement of the year.

Steve cracks open an eye to search for the offending window that’s letting the torturous light in. Dimly, he notes the empty bottle of Jameson seated in a chair in the corner of the room, a remnant of the night Nancy told him it was all bullshit.

That’s not a memory he needs right now.

He finds the window; it’s somewhere to his left. Steve gets to his feet, and has to grab the top of the couch in order to stay that way. He stumbles forwards and ends up falling against the window. From that position, he turns and reaches for the string that controls the blinds. It refuses to stay in his hand, and he has to concentrate in order to grab it and pull it downwards.

The blinds snap shut, and he slides down to the floor, sighing in relief as the light dims to a dull gray.

He must pass out, because the next thing he knows, the doorbell is cutting through his brain like a bullet, the tone echoing around his skull. He groans.

The doorbell rings again, and he covers his ears against the noise.

One more time, and he remembers what a ringing doorbell means.

Steve pulls himself up, scrabbling for purchase at the window ledge. The room around him capsizes, and he blinks hard to bring it back to fuzzy normal. Steve starts towards the door, but runs straight into a chair instead. The empty whiskey bottle that was in it hits the hall’s wood floor and shatters on impact. The sound makes him jump, and he trips over the chair, falling into the wall and swearing a blue streak all the while.

The ordeal wakes him up enough to stagger to the door and open it.

Four kids are crowded on his doorstep.

…

They stand in the driveway for a good ten seconds, frozen. An unexpected, but unanimous hesitation grips them as they look up at the veritable mansion that is Steve Harrington’s house.

Finally, Max lets out a shaky breath and says, “Okay.”

It’s like an electric shock, spurring the four of them into motion. The boys unceremoniously drop their bikes and follow her to the door. “Okay,” Max says again, and presses the doorbell.

No one answers.

“Maybe he’s asleep,” Lucas suggests as Max presses the doorbell again.

“We should probably just…” Mike starts, nodding towards their bikes.

“No!” Dustin cries. He eyes the windows and says, “One more time.”

Max frowns deeply. “One more time,” she agrees, and jams her thumb against the doorbell.

They wait.

“You know what, we should--,” Dustin says, but stops as something inside crashes.

There’s a long string of curses and more crashing, and suddenly, the door is open. “The hell’re you doin’ here?” slurs Steve, squinting down at them.

He looks awful, the cuts and bruises of the previous night even more pronounced in the daylight; his face is a mottled painting of yellows, purples, and blues. Steve leans heavily against the doorframe, and considers the kids with unfocused eyes.

For a moment, they are stunned back into silence. “We, uh,” Max begins, “we wanted to make sure you were okay. After, um. You know…”

Steve snorts out a laugh. “Your stepbrother kicked my ass?” he asks, the words running together. He runs a hand through his uncharacteristically messy hair.

“Um. Yeah. That.” Max says in reply.

“Well, I am gr- reat ,” he answers. “So can I go back to--?”

“And also thank you!” interrupts Lucas. He seems surprised to hear himself speak, but continues nonetheless. “You, uh, stood up for us, and, um. Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’ sweat it, kid,” Steve says. He looks like he’s about to keel over, moments from sliding down the doorframe and to the floor.

Dustin says, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Steve glances at him. “I’d like to go back t’ sleep, but yeah,” he says.

“You really shouldn’t--!” Dustin begins, but gets cut off.

“We should go,” Mike says. “We’ll just…” The four begin to move backwards, nearly tripping over each other on the crowded stoop.

“Mm-hmm,” Steve says, and as soon as it had opened, the door slams shut.

They all jump at the sound.

On the way back to their respective bikes and skateboard, Max says, “That went well.”

“D’ya think he’s really okay?” asks Dustin, his expression betraying his concern. “He looked like shit.”

“I dunno,” Lucas says in response. “But it’s not like we can do anything.”

“You’re not supposed to sleep with a head injury,” Dustin whispers, to no response.

A somber quiet falls over the four.

“Okay,” breathes Max, and they wheel into the street.

…

Once the kids are gone, Steve falls against the door and tries to make his breathing normal again. It’s gone too thin, but too slow, and he has to concentrate in order to fix it. The world is spinning again; he buries his aching face in his knees.

Every second the pain seems to mount, sawing into his skull with each desperate breath. He regrets slamming the door with every fiber of his being, because now his ears are ringing with no sign of stopping.

When Steve was eleven, his parents deemed him old enough to be left home alone, and promptly took off on business trips. At first, they hired nannies, babysitters, but as time went on, they either forgot or decided he no longer needed supervision. They returned at least once a month, but that trickled down with every passing year, until he found himself celebrating Christmas alone. The last time he’s seen them was three months ago, but he’s grown used to living without them.

Right now, he misses them desperately. His father’s voice, quietly comforting. His mother’s fingers, brushing across his forehead and smoothing back his hair.

His already stuttering breath catches when he realizes both memories are from before he turned ten.

Steve wraps his arms around his knees, hugging them tight to his chest. The pain is warping time; he has no idea how long it is until a pounding at the door startles him from his position.

He’s confused – the noise came from behind him; made the wall shake. With a start, he turns to see the door, having forgotten his position.

Whatever hit the door hits it again, this time calling, “Open up, kid!”

The words are distorted; they bounce around the room without Steve registering their meaning. He pulls himself up by the doorknob, answers the door. Sunlight pours into the hall. Steve squints and manages to discern the visitor’s identity: “Chief Hopper?” he says. Or at least, he thinks he says it. He can’t be quite sure.

The chief’s face visibly changes when he catches sight of Steve, but Steve doesn’t notice, he’s too busy trying to remember where he left his bat. The chief means danger, and danger means fighting, no matter how much he’d rather just collapse on the floor.

“Yep,” says the chief, frowning at him. “It’s me.”

…

Hopper wishes he wasn’t so bent on saving everyone. If it weren’t for his damn hero complex, he’d be at the cabin, spoiling Jane rotten and making sure she was every bit as ‘okay’ as she said she was. He’d be pretending he wasn’t scared out of his mind whenever he saw blood on her face and that he didn’t still feel the fear of losing his daughter whenever he looked her way.

He’d be spending every damn minute with his girl, because hell if she didn’t deserve everything he had to give and more.

But no, the Wheeler kid and his friends just have to show up and ruin his afternoon with their story about their ill-fated journey to the Harrington house.

So instead, Hopper is standing on the stoop of said house and praying to whatever god is out there that he won’t have to make a trip out to the hospital.

Then the door swings open and Hopper decides there is no god, because shit, this kid can’t even stand on his own.

“Chief ‘opper?” croaks Steve Harrington, squinting at the watery sunlight coming through the door.

“Yep,” sighs the chief. “It’s me.”

“’S something wrong?” asks Steve. He looks behind him, his expression miserable. “I can…”

The kid starts to stumble back inside, but he barely makes it to the staircase before his knees buckle. Steve grasps the banister and sinks to the bottom step. Hopper takes this display as an invitation to come inside. “Jesus, kid. How the hell did you drive last night?”

Steve ignores his question and reaches somewhere to his right. He blinks slowly. “It’s over there.”

Hopper looks to where the teenager seems to be gesturing and sees a bat filled with nails and coated in blood, at odds with its position on the shining hardwood floor.

“Nothing’s wrong,” says Hopper, “No monsters or anything; everyone’s safe.”

The chief crouches next to the kid; ignores his screaming back and knees. Glazed brown eyes look back at him. “Safe?” asks the kid, his voice reminding Hopper of Jane whenever she encounters a new word, and damn, if that doesn’t hurt.

Hopper nods, and Steve lets out a breath. He leans against the banister in relief.

Briefly, Hopper examines his surroundings. The hall is dark; the sole source of light is the front door. An upturned chair lies on the threshold of the living room, and if Hopper isn’t mistaken, there’s broken glass around it. “Where’re your parents, kid?” he asks, almost to himself.

Steve just shuts his eyes and spits, “Gone.”

There’s a pause as the chief processes this information, and the many things that ‘gone’ could mean. Deciding he can deal with the absent Harringtons later, he says “Hey, how about we go get you cleaned up?” ‘cause if this kid isn’t concussed to hell and back, the earth is fucking flat.

Steve manages to shake his head while pressed up against the banister. “Tired,” he says.

A sudden flash of panic makes Hopper shake Steve by the shoulder. He’s no doctor, but he does know that sleeping with a head injury risks never waking up. “Hey, hey, let’s stay awake,” he says.

He receives an annoyed glare and moan in response. Hopper sets his jaw, looks Steve up and down, and scoops the kid up bridal style.

Luckily or unluckily, Steve is too confused to put up much of a fight, so getting him into Hopper’s cruiser isn’t difficult.

On the way to the hospital, Hopper growls question after question at the kid to keep him awake. He tries to be satisfied with the muffled groans he receives in response: it’s better than nothing.

It’s not until he asks, “Hey, kid. Who’s the president?” that nothing is exactly what he gets.

Hopper feels his heart skip a beat, his breath catching. “Hey. Hey, ” he says, but no response. He glances into the front mirror and sees that the kid’s skin has gone waxy pale, eyes shut. Hopper can’t tell if he’s breathing.

Hopper leans on the gas, speed limits be damned.

Steve’s loaded onto a stretcher the moment he’s dragged into the ER, nurses already swarming. Hopper watches helplessly as they strap an oxygen mask on his face and wheel him into another room, the sterile smell of the hospital already making the chief remember things he’d rather keep buried.

But then a nurse is asking him about next of kin, and shoving paperwork into his hands, and he can’t check out because there’s no one else in town over the age of fourteen who knows that Steve Harrington is just hanging on.

Fucking hero complex.

[mrnibblesleviathan]

Entry 5.1: Silhouette

We’re not posting links at the start of these anymore because tumblr staff is a bunch of assholes. Fic hyperlinks can be found at the main blog page. Sorry.

Ryley was surprised to find Bart standing in front of the window from the workstation as they came back from their daily gathering of building materials. He seemed almost fine today. Didn't look like he'd fall at any second.

He greeted Ryley at the moonpool with an excited voice. "Hey, pal! What did you get for me today?"

"Copper, Titanium, Silver. How you feeling?" Ryley asked, signing. They were progressing, little by little. That was a sentence that was useful enough for them to remember most times.

"I'm feeling as great as someone who's got space plague can be." He answered with a smile, watching Ryley climb out of the pool. "I only blacked out once today.” He waved at them when Ryley crossed their arms in disapproval.  “Hey, don't worry, I'm better now. I just wanted to see how the cuddlefish was doing. I climbed the ladder to the aquarium. Maybe I shouldn't have done that." Bart apologized, turning his head away.

Ryley noticed a certain frustration in that gesture. They looked at him, trying to remember the sign for the wrong in “what’s wrong”. Unable to remember, they resolved for "what's up" instead. Bart seemed to get it.

"Sometimes... I feel like I'll never get better." He confessed. "I should have accepted this already. I've been living with this disability for years now, but..." He shook his head, sighing. "Trying to do anything usually means pushing myself." He told them, more for his own sake than theirs. "Trying to study means giving myself a headache, trying to climb a ladder means passing out. Even just doing nothing is uncomfortable. I can't remember a time where being awake didn't hurt."

Ryley sighed, letting that sink in. It was still hard for them, to listen to Bart talk about his pain. Of course, being in pain was even worse for Bart, and they understood that, but it made them feel so useless. They could fabricate him some medication, do their best to give him comfort, but in the end, specially after seeing him talk about it as a disability, rather than a disease, they knew that illness wasn’t going away. At least not any time soon.

"But you are... going... better", they answered. Even though they mistook the sign for "getting" to "going", it still made sense. They pulled out the PDA from the Compressed Inventory and started typing. "I’ve been watching you get better. It's only been a few days, and look! You're back to walking again. You're already decorating the base with new plants! You’ve made so much progress!"

"C'mon, Ryley, I told you to sign." Bart smirked. "You already learned a lot of these words."

Ryley stopped typing, making a pouty face. They did their best to remember the next words, so they could sign them off. "I… think…  I know what you need." They said. And then, fast and surprisingly, they grabbed Bart and threw him on their back. To be fair, Bart weighed about as much as a sack of fiber mesh, it wasn’t hard.

"WH..." Bart gasped. "What are we doing? Ryley what the-"

His words were cut short when Ryley threw him out into the moonpool, making water splash in all directions. They quickly grabbed his helmet, resting inside his personal locker, and cannonballed into the sea with him. 

Bart was still gasping and coughing when they arrived at the second base, the separate half from Ryley's habitat. They helped Bart through the hatch, laughing as he stared at them in confusion.

"A warning next time would be nice, you know?" He complained. "But I'm glad you finally brought me here. I've been wanting to see what you kept..."

He forgot to finish the sentence, as he saw the enormous two-story aquarium in front of him. On the floor, a multitude of assorted vines and mushrooms were growing, and between them, at least five different alien eggs were shimmering and pulsating. A few creatures were already hatched. Four different sharks - two stalkers, one boneshark and one sandshark. A crashfish. And even two unbelievably tiny crabsnakes. Compared to the size - and behavior - of the adults, it was obvious they were all juveniles. Most of those species would never tolerate or even fit within the same space as each other.

Ryley smiled at their friend. “Research Facility. I have… unknown eggs here.” They signed, a little unsure, despite having prepared for this.  “You can go in. Friendly.” They opened the hatch and held out a hand, leading their friend in.

“Wait, stop for just a second, magic can resume in 2 minutes.” Bart held up his hands, a burning question came to mind now that he’s seen Ryley’s aquarium.  “Is this how you scanned a boneshark?”

Ryley laughed and shook their head. They paused for a minute with a small smirk before they popped in the hatch and went up to the boneshark, miming punches at the young creature before patting it’s head and swimming back to the hatch.

Bart was speechless for a moment, but not long. “You. You’re trying to tell me you boxed a boneshark.” 

Ryley nodded and grinned.  “Yes. I punched…” Ryley frowned, making a few frustrated noises before starting to sign “bone”, then shook their head. They took their two hands, wrists together, so that the two hooked fingers on each hand made teeth for a mouth. Ryley grinned, they seemed very pleased with themselves.

“Look at you! Communicating! Making a sign for a species that doesn’t exist on Earth! Boneshark, right?” Bart returned Ryley’s grin with a beam of his own as they excitedly nodded. “Still doesn’t excuse boxing a boneshark. By the stars, how are you even alive?”

“Coming?” Ryley put out their hand again, totally ignoring their friend, and pulled Bart into the tank. Immediately, the fish swarmed the two of them.  Bart was fascinated, he’d never been able to see these creatures so close before, at least not without the imminent threat of bodily harm.

“They’re beautiful. So friendly too, did you train them at all?” Bart smiled as he pet the crabsnake that was swimming its way around his arms. It’s crust was soft, wigglier than the adult ones. Would probably harden into their crab armour in an older age.

“No. They… Don’t mind?” Ryley signed, shrugging to try and show they’re confused. Bart smiled, shrugging back and turning his attention to the predators swimming in circles around him. Ryley smiled at their friend, playing with the docile would-be predators.  The stalkers seemed to enjoy bopping their noses into him, sending him off balance with a comical oof.  Bart laughed, and it wasn’t quite as full as it had been years ago, but it still sounded like music to Ryley. How did they miss seeing that boy’s happy face again.

But it seemed the moment wasn’t to last.

Ryley folded over behind Bart, stifling a groan. Their vision filled with blue, and an echoing voice filled their ears. “Remember that you were never alone.” The blue image of a majestic creature filled their head to the point of bursting. They could vaguely hear a voice calling to them, reminding them of the friend they had to watch for. The blue shimmered again as they opened their eyes, looking for Bart past the lights in their vision. Just as the world was dimming, they felt themselves fall downwards. Then the blue faded, leaving an afterglow that burned their eyes, and a nasty headache throbbing across the top of their head. Rubbing their forehead, they looked up to where their legs were still half in the hatch, along with a frustrated and concerned Bart.

“I hope you know just how hard it was to get your giant ass out of that tiny hole.” Bart grumbled as he tried to remove their feet from the hatch, which Ryley politely decided to help with.  Then he ungracefully tumbled out of the hatch himself and sat down on the floor next to his friend. “What the fuck just happened?”

Oh, swears. Bart must have been really shaken up. Ryley themself could barely understand their situation as well, but still pulled out their PDA with shaking hands and tried to type. After a few trial and errors, they finally let it start speaking.

“I had some kind of vision. It was glowing in my eyes and left a headache all over my head. It was like the shadow of a creature, and all I could see were four bright eyes. It was trying to talk to me.” They tapped at the screen, backing up more than not. They rubbed at their face before the voice sounded again, “Could make out it saying I wasn’t alone. And it sounded comforting, rather than threatening.” They kept their eyes in their hands. Mostly from the residual headache, though partly trying to find a focal point to get their brain back together. What was that?

“So you’ve seen her too.” Bart whispered. “The visions… Dad thought I’d gone mad. Island sickness, he told Maida that one day. Didn’t talk about it much with me. He tried to keep scarce when the fits happened.” Bart looked down at his hands. “After they died, the visions weren’t as frequent. But they said a lot of comforting things too. I never knew whether to hate ‘em or love ‘em. After all, until now I thought I was just crazy.”

Ryley looked up, once again wishing so hard they could speak. There was no way to interpret that event, except that…

“It seems we’re not alone in this planet. There’s a sentient being out there, trying to reach us. A friendly one, if we’re reading this correctly.” They typed.

“A friendly one. A friend. Gods we might have a friend out there” Bart sighed, in relief, and waved his head. “For once a welcome change. Let me have this moment, Ryler, I might just be able to sleep better at night.” They both laughed.

[pllandcompany]

Concentrate

Summary: Surgeon!AU. Dr. Logan Taylor is a jigsaw puzzle and it's up to his former enemy Dr. Roman Courtland to put all of the pieces together.

Warnings: brief discussion of surgical procedures/illness, some swearing, brief description of nausea/vomiting, anxiety attack, hurt/comfort

Pairings: Platonic Analogical, Platonic Logicality, Platonic Logince, squint and you can see it Moxiety

Tagged: @ziallwarrior  @thefallendog  @jakesmolbean  @a-ghosts @band-be-boss-blog  @thecatchat  @flyingfreeyt  @apologieslogan

Notes: Look, guys, I actually wrote a one shot! Yes, it is angst again but it's not all sad, if you can hang in there with me, hopefully you enjoy it! Also, this fic, while understood without it, does reference a previous one I've written so I'll provide links for that here and here (parts one and two, respectively). As always, feedback is appreciated!

The first sign of trouble came in the form of dizziness, a symptom so benign even Logan didn’t even think it meant anything more than what it was.

“That was a good save, man,” Virgil said, lightly clapping Logan’s shoulder, “thanks for the assist in there.” The cardiologist considered shrugging from underneath the younger man’s grip but decided against it. He had become close to the trauma surgeon as of late and while he didn’t typically indulge in such frivolities as friendships, he found Dr. Davidson’s (no...Virgil’s) company…pleasant. Logan didn’t want to risk doing anything to damage their tenuous bond. The contact between them ended up being a blessing in disguise as when Logan turned to respond to Virgil’s compliment, he swayed dangerously as a wave of vertigo rushed over his consciousness. Virgil reacted quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and gently leaned him against the nearby wall, the surgeon’s head drooping into his chest with an audible groan. “Whoa, hey, you’re okay, I got you, I got you.” Logan didn’t respond, too overwhelmed by the shift of his equilibrium to do anything other than just exist.

Eventually, the dizziness passed and the fog lifted from Logan’s brain, a sense of embarrassment settling in its place. The older surgeon tried to move out of Virgil’s hold but firm hands simply adjusted to the extra movement, keeping Logan still. “Easy, dude, easy, just breathe. Stand up when your body is ready.” The stoic doctor groaned again but remained leaning against Virgil, taking deep, slow breaths to regain control. Finally, he gently lifted his head, a slight flush on his cheeks and avoiding eye contact with his current rescuer. “I am…adequate now, Virgil. I apologize; I am not sure what came over me.”

“It’s no big deal, dude, it happens to the best of us. Think you can make it to the chairs over there?” Logan opted for nodding instead of speaking out of tiredness, a move that concerned Virgil just ever so slightly. The two slowly shuffled their way to the plastic chairs against the opposite wall. Logan unceremoniously dropped into the seat and leaned his head back against the wall with his eyes closed. Virgil gazed at the side of his face, worry blooming in his chest that he fought to ignore. “Still dizzy?” His voice shook slightly and he hoped Logan didn’t notice.

“A minimal amount but it’s mostly passing.” Logan cracked open an eye to peer at his friend who looked just shy of grabbing a gurney and admitting him to the hospital. “You do not have to sit with me, Virgil. It’s just a dizzy spell. They come and they go.” The cardiologist's words trailed off at the end of his sentence; he was definitely still a bit out of it. Virgil sighed, releasing a bit of pent-up tension. “It was a long surgery. When you’re ready, you should eat something soon and hydrate. That’s probably all this is.”

“Precisely,” Logan said tiredly.

“I’m gonna hang out with you until you’re good, though, can’t have you collapsing on my watch. Although, if I knew complimenting you would make you swoon, I would’ve done it sooner.” Logan’s head turned slowly, an incredulous look on his face. “Are…are you flirting with me, Dr. Davidson?”

“Oh, don’t get formal on me now, Logan. It was a joke. I’ve been hanging around Patton a lot lately, my bad.” It was Virgil’s turn to be embarrassed, a sheepish grin gracing his features. Logan nodded and turned back to rest on the wall again. “Hmm. Very well. See that it doesn’t happen again,” he said with mock sternness.

The two promptly shared a smirk and a laugh, moving on as if nothing even happened.

****

The second sign of trouble was more alarming: nausea.

The first and second signs actually coincided in the most unfortunate way, in Logan's opinion, and in front of Dr. Patton Parker of all people. Logan was unaccustomed to being...mothered, particularly while being ill. His mother viewed almost any illness as weakness, a mere inconvenience that was to be worked through not “babied” in her terms. Subsequently, when he had an ailment, he did his best to secretly treat himself while hiding his symptoms and carrying on as usual. To his detriment, this particular symptom was not one easily hidden and as Dr. Parker was so obnoxiously adept at detecting…feelings, he knew he wasn’t getting out of being mothered on this one. The two surgeons were sitting in the fetal surgeon’s office discussing a case of an expectant mother with a heart defect when without warning, a powerful dizzy spell struck Logan mid-sentence. They had been coming on more frequently as of late but this one seemed particularly intense. Logan’s heart pounded and he placed a hand on his forehead, drooping alarmingly close to the edge of Patton’s desk as he leaned forward.

Patton was on his feet in a flash. “Logan? Logan! Oh my God, Logan, buddy, what’s wrong? Is it a headache? Are you dizzy? How can I help?” Logan had intended for the standard “nothing, I’m fine, it’ll pass” to come up but instead, his body decided to revisit his last meal and he gagged. The hand on his forehead quickly clapped over his mouth and his eyes widened in horror. Patton’s face remained calm as he grabbed a trashcan and quickly held it in front of Logan’s face, rubbing his back while his friend retched miserably. The mortifying moment seemed to last a lifetime for the cardiologist but finally, his body stopped convulsing enough for him to catch his breath and finally speak. “I am…so sorry, Dr. Parker. I should have been able to make it out of your office.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Patton’s face was firm but still caring, “you couldn’t help it. You’re sick, it happens.” Logan flinched at the word sick, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears. “Still, I am not a child. I should be in…better control of my body-…“ He gagged again and clamped his mouth shut to avoid a repeat performance. Patton rubbed his back again, shushing him soothingly. “Now hush. I don’t know where you got this idea that you’re supposed to be able to dictate a thing you can’t possibly control but that’s just nonsense! You’re allowed to be less than perfect, especially when you’re sick. That’s why you have people around you to help!” Patton noticed a flash of something cross Logan’s face. “At least…you’re supposed to. Was that not always the case for you?”

Logan sighed heavily. Damn his perception. “My mother…did not respond well to illness. I never took a sick day. She always…forced me to go to school or work. When I got sick as a child, she would have the nanny look after me. And she was nice enough but…”

“She wasn’t your mother,” Patton finished.

“Correct.” Logan went silent and stared at his hands. Patton frowned deeply for a second before straightening his face into a gentle smile. He struggled to hold back further commentary on just how awful he felt for little Logan and how disappointed he was in his mother who couldn’t even handle the basics for her own family. Logan didn't need pity or reminders of his past pain; he needed a friend. Instead, Patton simply pushed back Logan’s hair, checked his forehead for a temperature and said brightly, “Well, I’m here now to take care of you! Good news, I'm gonna check just to be sure but you don’t seem to have a fever so hopefully it was just something you ate and not a virus. Why don’t we get you to an on-call room so you can lie down and I’ll clean up here, don’t apologize, and the fellow can cover your post ops for you, okay?” Logan agreed shakily, still trying to recover from the physical effects of being sick. “Thank you, Patton. I appreciate your kindness.”

“Don’t sweat it, friend. That’s what I’m here for. I want to help.”

In retrospect, Patton was probably the perfect person to be vulnerable around.

****

The third sign of trouble initially seemed unrelated: mood swings.

Virgil Davidson was having a pleasant day. His patients were all thriving after surgery, his anxiety was well under control, and the Chief had actually complimented him twice today. He was simply taking a moment in his office to review postoperative scans when Logan burst through the door, red-faced and panting.

“Yeah, sure Lo, just barge in- holy crap, dude, are you all right?!”

Logan was pacing back and forth, chest heaving. “I lost a patient.” His voice sounded deceptively even to the average listener but Virgil knew better. Logan was on the edge and he needed to tread carefully.

“I-I’m sorry-“

“I shouldn’t have lost that patient. I did everything right. My approach was inspired, my technique was flawless, the patient was young. It should have been a success. I should be celebrating but now my patient is dead!” He was near hysteria now. Virgil stood carefully, planning to stop the man’s frantic marathon and talk some sense into him. “Logan, you know you can’t always-“

“No! Don’t you dare tell me it couldn’t be helped! It is our job to help and instead I killed her! If I can’t help anymore, if I can’t do my job, then what the hell am I here for? What is the point of any of it? What is the point, what is the point, what is the point-“

“Logan, Logan! Look at me! Breathe with me, okay? Count and breathe. That’s it, good job, Lo. Now I’m gonna take your hands out of hair…let go for me, Logan. Good, you’re doing great. Keep breathing for me.” Virgil waited a bit to continue, rubbing circles into Logan’s palms. “You with me now, Doc?”

Logan exhaled raggedly. “Yes, I’m here. I’m sor-“

“Gonna stop you right there, dude. It happens; you don’t need to be ashamed.”

“But it does not happen to me, Virgil. What…what is wrong with-with me?” Suddenly and to both of their horror, Logan began to laugh. Loudly. “I mean, seriously, what the hell is my freaking problem?! I’m crying like a child over a person I barely know! It’s…it’s…pathetic! And hell, I probably botched the damn surgery anyway! So why am I upset? Can you tell me, Virgil, can you tell me why I’m this upset because I am trying and failing to come to any logical conclusion here so please tell me what the actual fuck is my problem?!” The trauma surgeon stared on in shock at the deeply unsettling sight of Logan unraveling in front of him. He was right, this wasn’t normal at all and Virgil had a horrifying suspicion of what was causing it.

“Logan? Are you…are you using again?”

Logan immediately stopped laughing and glared at the accusation. “What?! No! Absolutely not!” A familiar clench twisted his stomach and Logan’s eyes bulged with panic. Oh God, not here. “Ihavetogo,” he mumbled hurriedly and bolted from the room, just barely making it around the corner before emptying the contents of his stomach in a hazmat bin. Once it was over, he lifted his head, gripped the sides of the container with white knuckles and for the first time since all of this started, he began to truly worry about what was really happening to him.

****

The fourth and last sign was the most terrifying one.​

"Dr. Parker, it appears the patient is experiencing a slight elevation in blood pressure, how is the fetus faring?" Patton smiled behind his surgical mask; working with Logan filled him with such a sense of joy. The doctor was normally so reticent and the opportunity for partnering was so rare with their specialities. It made him happy to see the cardiologist invested in teamwork.

"Heart rate is steady, Dr. Taylor. Don't worry, I will most certainly let you know if I need to step in. Hopefully we can keep the little guy in her a bit longer though, his lungs need more time."

"I am almost done here. Johnson, 2.0 silk please, I'm ready to clo-" A loud, metallic clatter filled the OR and left everyone frozen. Patton was the first to hesitantly speak up. "Dr. Taylor? Are...are you all right?"

Logan stared at his right hand in shock. "Yes, Dr. Parker, I am...satisfactory. I'm just...feeling a bit under the weather, Johnson, could you close? I need to step out."

"Logan." Patton sounded nervous. Logan turned around and tried his best to smile reassuringly behind his mask. "Don't worry, Patton. Johnson can close. It'll be all right." Once he was out of the OR, Logan snatched off his mask and gloves. He looked down at his hand again and started to walk, clenching his fist repeatedly. Open. Close. Open. Close. Stay calm. Open. Close. Open...

"Roman?"

Roman looked over his reading glasses, a smirk across his face. "Dr. Taylor! You must mean to charm me calling me by my first name. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit-"

"I want you to scan my brain." Open. Close.

"Ah, ever direct, as always. Now, why would I scan your perfectly healthy brain?"

"Because it's not perfectly healthy. I've been experiencing...symptoms. Headaches, mood swings, dizziness, nausea-"

"Oh, come now, Specs! You're been a heart guy for too long."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Open. Close. Open. Close.

Roman walked around to sit on the front edge of his desk. "Look, when patients come to see you, it's usually a worst case scenario. Their heart has taken all it can stand and they need you to fix it, which you do brilliantly. But it doesn't always work that way in neuro. You know as well as I do that all of that could be due to migraines or stress even. Your training is making you think the worst, you probably just need some time off-"

"My hand went numb, Roman! In surgery." Roman looked up and gasped at the tears filling Logan's eyes. "There is something wrong. And there has been for weeks but I've foolishly ignored it. But now I can't be a surgeon because of just how wrong that something is. You're the best neurosurgeon in this hospital, there's no way you can't figure this out. Please...help me."

A moment of silence went by then Roman nodded solemnly. "We'll get you admitted and do a full workup then I'll schedule a scan for tomorrow. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe, Logan. It's gonna be okay, I have this."

****

"You can't be in here, Pat," Roman said sadly. Patton ignored him and marched straight to the seat next to the neurologist, flopping down into it with a stubborn glare. "Like hell I can't. He's one of us now. He's family."

"Dr. Courtland, it's fine. He broke protocol on my case with your brother; it seems fitting he does it here too." Logan's sarcasm sounded over the intercom, drawing a mock gasp from Patton and a snort from Roman. "Truly, though, I don't mind. I probably terrified him during surgery, he deserves to know what's going on."

"No worries, Logan. I just want to make sure you're okay." Patton spoke up, trying to squelch his nerves to make way for something more cheerful. He wasn't totally sure he succeeded.

"Agreed there, Doc," Roman chimed in. "All right then, just give me a minute and we'll get started."

"Wait!" Roman and Patton's heads snapped up at Logan's shout. "Dr. Courtland...before you do this, I need you to promise me something. Promise me that you won't treat me like a patient. If you find something, anything, you tell me immediately. I may be sick but I'm not weak, I'm not fragile, I can take it. I've dealt with every illness I've ever had alone, I can handle...handle this too..."

"He's panicking," Patton stated firmly.

"I can see that," Roman shut off the intercom and hopped out of the booth. "Logan? Logan, look at me." Fear-glazed eyes finally met with Roman's gentle gaze. He grabbed the cardiologist's hand while he spoke. "Logan Taylor, you have my word that I will do anything and everything I can no matter what we find. If it's benign, cancerous, or absolutely nothing, we will handle it. And you're right, you're not my patient, you're my partner. We are now in this together and whatever we find, we face it together. You are not alone anymore. That sound good to you, Specs?" Roman smiled down at the trembling man, patiently waiting for the eventual nod of agreement. He ran his hand through Logan's hair and felt him finally relax. "Now try to hold still, okay? Got to get you from your best side." Logan rolled his eyes and laughed through his nose, surrendering his care to Roman who was already settled back in the booth. "Starting the scan now, Lo. Just relax."

Patton smiled at Roman and rubbed his knee gently. "You were good with him just then. Look how far you two have come." Roman smiled sheepishly. "He saved my brother, Pat. I owe him."

"You find anything yet?" Virgil rushed in twisting his scrubs anxiously. "Damn surgery, I almost missed it, did you find anything?"

"He just started the scan, Virge, let him work." Patton whispered, eyes never leaving the screen.

"God, I accused him of using drugs. If he dies-"

"Stop that! No one is dying here, all right? Don't do that to yourself, kiddo, not now. Right now, we have to be strong for Logan-"

"Guys. Look." Roman pointed at the tumor illuminated on the screen.

"Damn," Patton and Virgil both muttered.

"It's likely benign but...the good doctor was right, it's definitely something. Thank God that's he stubborn."

"Please tell me you can operate." Virgil sounded desperate. Patton reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing gently. Virgil had gotten to know Logan the best out of all of them. It was no surprise he was taking this the hardest. "For God's sake, Roman, tell me you can save him."

"You're damn right I can, Virge. And I'm gonna do everything I can to do just that."

"Roman? It's a tumor isn't it?" Logan's voice shook over the intercom.

"Yeah, Lo...it is. But I can get it. I'm gonna get it, don't you worry. Partners, remember?"

Logan nodded, holding back tears. "I'm holding you to that."

****

Three months later, when Logan was back to work with full use of his hand, he marched right into Roman's office and hugged him impossibly tight, thanking him for being a man of his word.