#its crazy. i loved the sound effects so much they scratch my brain in the right way

[chainreh]

me earlier: hm tonight i will sleep at a regular time

me now: actually stays up to 5am listening to the sims 3 event music (like a boss)

[idreamofplaid]

Living a Lie

Summary: Sometimes happiness waits on the other side of pain and misunderstanding.

Characters: Sam x Reader; Dean mentioned

Word Count: 3826

A/N: The expansion of my Masterlist continues. This is another one of my early fics that I’ve revised a little and am reposting. At the time I wrote it, I wanted to explore the effect someone’s looks can have on them wherever they may fall on the spectrum of what is considered conventionally attractive.

READER’S POV

There had been a time Sam picked up girls in bars, not with the frequency Dean had, but he'd done it. Now, he was doing it again. Dean had stopped entirely because he was in love, monogamous, and completely happy. Dean spent his nights sharing a bed with his soul mate. Sam prowled bars, and you hid away, alone, in your room.  

Your heart broke again every time Sam didn't come home. The pain was fresh like it was the first time, like somehow your heart had mended, had rebuilt itself just to be shattered again. A heart in pieces leaves an emptiness in the center of your being, but all the broken shards are still there, the sharp edges piercing you from the inside out. That was how it felt when night fell, and Sam wasn’t in the bunker. You knew where he was and what he was doing.

Those were sleepless nights for you, nights spent hearing Sam's voice in your head.  You'd always been too romantic for your own damn good. How could you be sitting here in the dark, back against your headboard, clutching your pillow tightly to your chest while you cried over the loss of a man you'd never had? He wasn't a man you were going to have. You'd seen pictures of Jessica. You just weren't his type. Sure, you could dye your hair blonde. That still wouldn't make you model gorgeous with a perfect body.  

You were smart, maybe not Stanford smart, but who knows? You might have been if you'd actually studied in high school instead of sitting in the back of class scribbling love poems in your notebooks. You had more than one regret and missed opportunity in your life.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sam's footsteps coming down the hall.  He had to pass your room to get to his. That's when you got your brilliant idea. You jumped up and flicked on the lights, splashed cold water on your face at the sink, and reached for your makeup bag to erase the evidence of your crying.

Minutes later you were knocking on Sam's door. He opened the door dressed for bed, and you smiled your prettiest for him. "Can I come in?" He opened the door wider giving you room to walk inside and stood with his arm over his head, hand on the door as he leaned against it watching you.  

You took a seat on the end of his bed and waited. Sam closed the door and walked closer to the bed. He was still looking at you with an unspoken question in his green eyes touched with warm honey.

He didn't move any closer, and he didn't say anything. Your broken heart made you bold. "Your night didn't go the way you had planned?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Planned?"

"Yeah. You know. You didn't go home with anyone." You looked down as you said it, unable to meet his eyes and say it out loud.

Sam sat down next to you, head bowed, his hand under his hair on the back of his neck. "Uhh...no, I didn't go home with anyone." 

You inched closer to him until your thigh was touching his. He looked at your bare leg and swallowed. You hadn't worn anything to bed but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties. 

"You don't have to spend the night alone, Sam." You reached for his hand and moved it to the inside of your thigh parting your legs slightly. His hand covered a large portion of your leg.  It was warm and solid, and the feel of it made your core quiver.

SAM'S POV

Your skin is so soft, and you smell so good. How am I supposed to resist this? Resist you when I've wanted you for so long? I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. You should be touched by a man you love, not me. I love you, but you deserve more than something one sided. That's why I haven't said anything or made a move. Maybe I shouldn't have put you on a pedestal, but I did. In my mind, that's where you belong.

I slide my hand along your smooth skin stopping at the top of your thigh, take a deep breath, and pull you closer to me with my other arm so I can kiss you. Your mouth opens under mine, and my tongue eases inside. Everything about you is so sweet. I'll never forget the way you taste. I want to leave some trace of me on you, some mark, some memory that you were mine for a little while. I pull you down on the bed with me and roll on top of you.

My kiss gets deeper; you accept it and respond. My hand is moving over your hip and under your shirt. I'm already halfway to hard. My hand is resting on your waist, and I keep kissing you, taking it slow.

I've thought about kissing you so many times, but my imagination never got it right.  My hand continues its move up your body over your stomach, and I feel you pull back the tiniest bit. Alarm bells go off in my head. You're beneath me, in my arms. I want you so much, but if you’re not absolutely sure….  I pull back and look at you. "I can't do this, Y/N."

The expression on your face sent a pain straight to my heart. The next thing I felt was your hands pushing against my chest. "Get off of me!" I sat back, and you were off the bed instantly, glaring at me through tears. 

"Really, Sam? Am I that much of a disappointment? Just tell me I'm not good enough for you. Just tell me!" You stormed across the room fumbling with the doorknob before you managed to get it open.  

You turned back to me. I was frozen in place trying to absorb the shock of being snatched out of the soft, perfect dream that I'd been lost in seconds before. "Go back to the bar, Sam. It's early. I'm sure there are plenty of tall blondes there with long legs, or petite brunettes, or whatever the hell you want. Take your pick; you can, and I'm sure she'll be happy to satisfy you."

The slamming of the door got my brain working again. I almost fell off the bed in my hurry to get to you, to explain. By the time I got the door open, there was no sign of you in the hall. I ran toward your room calling your name. When I got there I wanted to crash through the door, but I controlled my near desperation to let you know what I truly felt, that I would never think you weren’t good enough. It’s me who isn’t good enough for you.

I knocked on the door. Seconds passed. You weren't going to answer it. I didn't blame you, believing what you did. "Y/N. Y/N. Please. You don't understand. Let me explain.  It's not what you think. At all. It's nothing like what you think."  

READER'S POV

Sam had stopped knocking on the door, but he hadn't stopped talking. You were leaning against the door listening. "Please let me in, Y/N. I'll tell you everything. Just let me in." He sounded genuinely upset.

Even now, after what he'd done, you still wanted to comfort him. You wanted to take the hurt from his voice. Slowly, you opened the door. His chest was rising and falling fast. This really had affected him. That didn't make sense. You'd offered him sex. Scratch that. You'd offered him you, and he wasn't interested. Now, he was upset?  You saw the relief wash over his face. "Y/N?"

In a flat voice you said,"You can come in." He stepped just inside the room. You walked to the bed and sat down. "Stay over there."  

Sam folded his hands in front of him, drawing your attention to the bulge that was still in his pajama pants. He focused on the floor in front of where you were sitting. "Why did you do it, Sam? Do you know what it feels like to be cast aside like that?" You swallowed and shook your head, fighting back another wave of tears. "No, you don't, because practically every woman that sees you wants you. If you spend the night alone, it's because you choose to."

He raised his head to look straight into your eyes. "I've chosen to spend a lot of nights alone. Do you know why?" He paused. "Because I met you. I started noticing these little things about you like you chew on your bottom lip when you're trying to figure something out. You run your hands through your hair and put it behind your ears all the time; it's enough to drive a guy crazy. You always eat your French fries first. When you want to relax or calm down, you listen to rain or ocean waves. Then one day you smiled at me like you had probably hundreds of times before, but that time was different. That time I felt my stomach do a little flip, and I knew I was in love with you."

A tear slipped down your cheek. Sam's voice was deep and gentle as he kept talking.  "Then Dean got married, and right in front of me every day I saw what it was like to share your life with someone. He had everything I wanted. My brother was happy."  

Sam looked up to the ceiling; tears collected in the corners of his eyes. He looked back down, blinked, and they fell. Then he raised his eyes back to yours. "So, I started going to bars because it was too hard to be here, but I was never going to find what I was looking for there because it was already here, and I knew it. I wanted to be with you."

"Sam?" His name came out of your mouth as a whisper. 

"The problem was you didn't want it. I saw your reaction when waitresses would flirt with me at the diners we went to. You'd tense up or get fidgety. You didn't like it. You thought I was one of those guys who likes to play those games, using my looks to stroke my own ego."

You put your hand over your mouth and held it there before you moved it down to your chin, fingers shaking. "Sam, I never thought that about you. I thought I could never measure up to those women who were flirting with you. That’s what I didn’t like, that I was someone who could never get your attention." Your hand was shaking harder now.

Sam crossed the room in three steps and wrapped his arms around you.  He held you and rested his chin on top of your head. "Don't you know you're beautiful, Y/N?"  

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with tears. "How would I know that, Sam?  No one has ever told me." He squinted his eyes slightly and brushed the tears from your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "And, if that's what you thought then why did you stop?" Your voice caught, and your words came out unsteady. "I was going to give myself to you." You were shaking in his arms.

Sam stroked your hair, touching you like you were precious. It made you cry even more. His voice was steady and soothing. "Shhh. That's why I couldn't do it. You should only give yourself to someone you love as much as I love you. Anything less than that isn't the way it should be for you. It isn't what I want for you." He placed a single kiss on top of your head.

You lay your hand on his chest where you had shoved him earlier, so close to his heart.  "Sam, I do love you."

SAM'S POV

Your touch was light, and your hand felt tiny on my chest. I held you tighter, processing what you'd just said. After a few seconds, I pulled back from you far enough to see your face. The truth was in your eyes; I could see it. You do love me. 

I knew this kiss was important. We would remember it for the rest of our lives, talk about it in the middle of the night when we settled back into bed after one of us got up to take care of our baby. I barely touched your lips with mine at first, but it wasn't long before everything I felt for you that I'd kept bottled up inside came out in that kiss. My hands were holding your face, and I slid one of them into your hair. You felt so warm and willing. My body was responding to you, hardening again.

Your hand rubbed down my side grabbing the bottom of my t-shirt. You started to pull it up. I broke the kiss long enough to take it off, then my mouth was back on yours. I felt your hands on my back, and I wanted to feel your skin. I rested my cheek against yours, slowly easing my hand back under your shirt where it had been before. I whispered to you "Is this okay?" I kept my hand still, waiting for your answer.

I felt you tremble. "My body isn't what you're used to, Sam."  

I brushed my fingertips across your stomach looking for any sign that you didn't want me to. "You're perfect, Y/N. I'm going to show you just how beautiful you are." I felt your head nod against mine, so I moved my hand up a little higher and cupped your breast. You sucked in a breath and let it out in a tiny gasp. I kneaded gently, moving my thumb back and forth across your nipple until it was hard. You arched your back,  rolled your hips, and let out the sweetest, softest moan I could have ever imagined. The way you sound is beautiful. I did the same with your other breast, kissing your neck while I touched you.

All your little moans and noises had me totally hard and throbbing for you. I moved my hand back down your stomach and under the waistband of your panties. You whimpered when I slid my finger between your folds, and you were so wet your juices were running over my hand. Avoiding your clit for now, I put one finger inside you and your moans got louder. "Sam."

I moved that finger in and out, establishing a rhythm. "I've got you, Y/N." You were tight around just my finger, and my dick twitched. I added another finger, taking all the time you needed to stretch you and get you ready for me. I held you close while I pumped them into you. When you were writhing against me,  I touched my thumb to your clit and started making little circles. Then I changed the motion, dragging my thumb over your clit in time with my fingers moving in and out of you.  When I thought you were ready, I added a third. You clenched around my fingers and tightened your hold on my shoulders. The feel of your hands clutching me like that made me moan, imagining what you would do once I was inside you.

I went back to making circles, faster this time. "Let go, Y/N, let go." You came on my fingers, your nails digging into my shoulder. I worked you through your orgasm then put both of my arms around you. You were panting. I kissed you,taking those little breaths into me. I could still feel you shaking in my arms. "I love you, Y/N. I love you."

I held you until you stilled in my arms and were calm again. You shifted, sitting back and looking at my chest. You reached out and touched me gingerly. "I'm sorry I pushed you off me the way I did." You leaned down kissing the places on my chest where your hands had pushed against me.

When you sat back, I put my hand under your chin tilting your face up. "Let me see you, Y/N." You only hesitated a second before you lifted your shirt over your head and put it down beside you. I think I held my breath when you reached to take off your panties. You are beautiful. Your body is all feminine, soft curves I want to kiss and caress. Seeing you makes me harder. The tip of my cock is leaking; I feel it. You lift your hips and slide your panties down your legs.

My mouth drops open, and I Iick my lips pulling the bottom one into my mouth. I can see the uncertainty on your face. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

You close the distance between us and lay your head on my chest. "Yes." It may only be one word, but it's exactly what I need.  

I put my arms around you, my hands on the bare skin of your back, and I lower you gently to the bed. "I'll make this good for you; I promise." I take your earlobe into my mouth sucking lightly. "You are beautiful, Y/N, and sexy. Do you know how much I want you?" I push my pelvis against you, so you can feel my erection. "That's because of you. It's for you." I move my mouth down the side of your neck, kissing you the entire way. Your skin is sweet; it occurred to me then that I'll fall asleep tonight with the taste of you on my tongue.

I kiss my way across your shoulder. Then I lift my head to put my mouth on your breast. I start by kissing a soft circle around the edge then move to the center to flick my tongue over your nipple. My lips close around you and start to suck. A groan escapes from my throat, deep and full of need. I'm so hard for you now that I don't know how much longer I can take this, but I will.

I move my mouth to your other breast, careful of my teeth. Tonight I'm making love to you slowly, gently, and completely. I want you to forget that I've ever been with anyone but you. I want you to understand who you are to me and never again feel the need to compare yourself to another woman. I swirl my tongue around and over your nub until it stands up firm in my mouth, my fingers rolling your other nipple still moist from my mouth keeping it just as tight.

You're squirming under me. I lick down the center of your stomach right to your core, and you open your legs for me. I put my hands on your hips to hold you still. You are so wet my face is covered in your slick as soon as my tongue touches you, and I drink in everything you give me. My tongue is flattened against your clit. I’m stroking it slow,  teasing before moving down to push my tongue inside you. I thrust it as deep as I can go. Your voice is pleading with me. "Sam. Sam." I go back to your clit, pointing my tongue and moving over it as fast as I can. You're fisting the sheets.

"Put your hands in my hair, Y/N. Hold me where you want me." You did exactly what I said and pulled my hair hard. That turned me on even more. You were close to coming again. Your thighs were shaking. I put two fingers inside you and crooked them rubbing your g-spot until you fell apart. I kissed your stomach softly while you came down from your orgasm, keeping my fingers inside you. "You are beautiful, Y/N. Absolutely perfect."  

Your expression is gentle and a little blissed out from the two orgasms, but your words are clear and certain. "Sam, I want all of you. I want you to come inside me. Give me what I gave to you." I kissed you one more time just below your belly button then stood up long enough to take off my pants. Naked, I crawled back up your body and propped myself on my forearm so I could brush your hair off your cheek. It amazes me that every part of you is just so soft.

 My face was just inches from yours. I was memorizing the way you looked right now.  "Are you sure?" Your eyes were filled with everything I'd ever wanted to see there.  Love. Trust. Desire.  

"Yes." You lay your hand on my cheek. “I’m completely sure.”

I couldn't take my eyes away from yours as I lined myself up with your opening.  I wanted to see the look on your face when I entered you for the first time.

READER'S POV

You felt the end of Sam's shaft touch you. The way he was looking at you made you feel wanted and, yes, beautiful. You felt the stretch as he pushed inside. He stopped with just the tip, letting you get used to his size. Your eyes closed and fluttered back open. "I love you, Sam." He slid in another inch.

"I love you too, Y/N.”  He went deeper, inch by inch, until he was all the way inside you.  He started to move, and you grabbed onto his shoulders. His thrusts were so deep they were hitting your cervix. Your walls tightened around him. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. He moved faster then slowed down. "I don't know how much longer I can last, Y/N. I'm so close."

Through all your pants and moans you managed to say, "You don't need to. Just love me. Don't hold back."  

He pumped into you deep and fast. You felt him throb releasing his seed into you. "Sam!" You scratched down his back. "I'm coming again. Sam." You squeezed your eyes shut tight. Everything went black. Then you felt him rolling over, bringing you with him so that your body was part way on his, and he was cradling you against him.  

You lay with your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat for a long time. Finally, it slowed back down to its normal rate. Sam was combing his fingers through your hair.  "Can you forgive me, Y/N? All those nights I wasn't here, I should have been."

You snuggled closer into him. "You didn't owe me anything, Sam. There's nothing to forgive. Just don't ever do it again. Let me be enough. I want to be enough for you."

"You're everything, Y/N.  Everything."

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @petitgateau911 @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride @deansyahtzee​ @waywardnerd67​ @fullmooner​ @sams-sass​ @beskaradberoya​

[goblinmanifesto]

Ive already accidentally deleted this once so fucking kill me (I forgot to save it).

⚠️TW FOR ANXIETY, TOURETTES, SLIGHT SELF HARM⚠️

But this is my post for @doinmybesthere Mental Health Awareness May collab! I will be doing Bokuto Koutarou. To explain a bit, to cope with bullshit that is life, I accidentally made myself a coping mechanism that I loving refer to as the ‘Klaus Hargreeves‘ (if you know anything about that character, you already know where my mental state is) because I can’t remember what my therapist said the actual name for it was. To put it simply, it’s like overactive day dreaming. I act out and create scenarios in my head to comfort myself, most of the time using characters or real people as an enabler for the comfort I wish to gain. Side effects being; if caught, considered crazy, sometimes don’t realize I’m doing it which can lead to awkward situations, sometimes I fuck up what’s real and what’s not. So, in these little stories, I will be retelling scenarios I have created through this coping mechanism that relate to both Bokuto and my mental problems! Each will be labeled with what they deal with so you can skip the one that might trigger you. Enjoy and happy reading! (I WILL ALSO BE MENTIONING AND USING STIMMING) ((I will probably use this to make other fics like this in the future mentioning my other ~stuff~ but in the meantime this is all I want to do so enjoy!))

⚠️LAST TW⚠️

1. ~Anxiety, Self harm, Mentions of Stimming~ He should’ve been home an hour ago! I was pacing in the living room, shaking hands holding my phone. It was 7:13 and Koutarou was supposed to be home at 6:00. I was spiraling and I could feel it, but I didn't know what to do about it. Id sent him text after text, but he was yet to respond. I glanced at my cell, only stopping my frantic shuffling to focus my attention on reading the screen;

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12] -Unread-

My eyes scanned the messages again, not leaving the blue screen until until my shin collided with the side of the coffee table. I hadn’t even realized I had started pacing again. I checked the texts I had sent to Akaashi as well, since I knew he was at that practice too, but I hadn’t gotten any responses from him either. Slipping my phone screen up onto the table I continued my pacing, not even processing when my finger nails found their way under my teeth, and how when they left my mouth to scratch at my neck or claw at my shirt, my teeth resorted to gnawing at my lip instead, tearing up the thin skin. All habits I was trying to kill but didn’t have enough brain power to focus on not doing them. My eyes constantly searched the driveway for the headlights of any car, any car at all, but they always came up with nothing. It was 7:24 when my phone struck with the sound of text, the bing of anticipation sent me diving for, and consequently almost dropping, my phone in an attempt to find out if it was Koutarou. It was!

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12]

-Read-

Im so sorry!! Yes practice did end up running late! But something else happened and I

wasn’t able to text you! I’m not mad about

anything I promise!! What happened is also

minor and nothing to worry about and I’ll explain when I get home in about ten

[7:21] minutes!! I’m so sorry!! -Read-

I sighed, relieved, the weight on my chest and in my head dissolved and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Though, as I came down from my anxiety rush, I became aware of a lot of things all at once. The first was a good deal of pain. From knocking my leg into a table and pacing for over an hour, to bitten lips and nails, and my scraped neck. I groaned, I need to get a better handle on this.

But that wasnt important. Koutarou was okay and on his way home! I waited at the window, feeling a bit like a dog waiting on its owner (that was a kink joke yes), and leaped to the front door when I saw his car in the driveway. Throwing open the door, I pulled him inside the second I could get my hands on him and pulled him through the doorway. The moment he was inside, I shoved myself into his arms in a tight hug, so glad he was okay. He returned the hug and held me tightly, I let out a shuddering breathe and he let out comforting sounds I sometimes use to stim. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m so sorry to have you worry, it was about Akaashi! We were running extra practice with a handful of the other guys and I literally had half a text to you written out when he a spike to the face! I was the only one left with a car so I drove him to hospital! I’m so sorry you are so worried you sent like 15 texts! I’m so-“ I cut him short with a hand over his mouth since that was one of the only ways to get him to stop talking. “Kou, it’s okay, I understand, it just really scared me ‘is all-“ he pried my hand off his face but held it in his own.

”I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t apologize for it, whether I was in complete control of the situation or not! Which I was not, by the way, no control what-so-fucking-ever, I had four other guys in the car and one of them was bleeding and concussed, it was chaos!!” His eyes were wide and he went off on the stress of the situation and, for a moment, I forgot that it was 7:26 at night on a Thursday and I had a biology test in the morning, and that Koutarou just got home and I hadn’t even eaten yet and all the other things that werent right in the world. Everything was fine in that moment. But that ended when Koutarou took a good hard look at me. The redness and scratch marks on my neck, the bitten to bleeding finger nails, the small bruise forming on my shin, my blotchy face and my probably-way-too-red lips. He stopped dead in his words and I felt my eyebrows scrunch up.

“Whats wrong?-“

“You did the things again didn’t you?!” He sounded distressed and his broad shoulders sunk. Koutarous hands rubbed my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with the most concerned look I’d ever seen. He pulled me back to his chest again and promised it wouldn’t happen again.

7:46, Koutarou insisted on taking care of my ‘injuries’ since he was who I was having anxiety over anyway. I protested a little, but gave up when he gave me the baby-owl eyes.

First, he had wrapped bandaids on my fingers. Thankfully, they were black, and I made a comment on it was like a 2-second manicure just to hear him chuckle.

Then, Kou applied a moisturizer to my neck. “Kou, I can do this myself-“

”Nope! I insist!”

”I’m not a child-“

”Don’t care, I’m doing it so just shush up and let me do what I need to do!”

Next, he made me apply ice to my bruise even though it was tiny and caused by a damn two-foot-tall coffee table.

Lastly, he gave me chapstick. Again, wouldn’t let me do it myself, so I made several sarcastic remarks to make him blush, all working quite well. Koutarou had to tell me to stop giggling multiple times so I could stay still.

”Alright, are you done playing nurse?”

”Forgive me for wanting to take care of you!!” He stuck his tongue out at me with an audible “bleh!” and I cackled.

”You are forgiven, Nurse Bokuto.”

2. ~Tourette’s, Stimming~ My neck painfully popped when it jerked to the left, my tics had been bad all day and I no clue why. Could be exams, or the fucking toaster for all I knew. I hissed, rubbing at my neck and adjusting the water can I almost dropped, trying to continue about my Saturday.

It was obnoxious, really, having to me-proof everything around in case I end up kicking it, dropping it, or hitting it. My joints constantly cracking and snapping and jolting in the strangest ways at any given moment. Sometimes repeating what people say back at them in perfect mirror-like fashion. Though that last one can be kind of funny.

Clicking my toungue to make nice noises to try and stim the tic away, I returned back to my plants. I could feel them chuckling at me and, in that moment, I understood everything about Crowley from ‘Good Omens’.

I heard the door unlock in the other room and I put my can down as a precaution and peeked out of the doorway.

A moment later, Koutarou popped through the door after his morning jog. He called out; “Hey, hey, hey!” as a greeting.

I felt my hands go up behind my head and I thought Oh gods dammit, and then my jaw jutted forward in a very unattractive way and I repeated his phrase in the same manner as him, then immediately dropped, as my body decreed.

I groaned, looking up at him, who looked slightly bewildered at my little madness ritual. His hair laid flat on his head, he had chosen not to mess with it this morning, much to my delight, his amber eyes a little wide and his eyebrows raised. He was barely even in the house yet.

We just kind of stared at each other for a hot second before I awkwardly waved ‘hello’ and cracked a weird grin. He grinned back, his more pleasant than mine. Walking over, he opened his arms for a hug, and I accepted, since he wasn’t all that sweaty this time around, and it was the least I could do since he had to witness that.

Koutarou planted a kiss on the top of my head, cheering “Good morning!”

I muttered a response into his shirt.

“One of those days, huh?” I nodded.

“Coffee? I think we have muffins in the cabinet?” I nodded again and he lead me into the kitchen to set up some breakfast. It was 9:00 am on a Saturday after all. A weird Saturday, but watching Koutarou finagle through the cabinets, it couldn’t be that bad.

That is all for now! Have a wonderful day and I am going to sleep for three years see y’all (edited: June 18 2021, because I can’t spell)

[subarublue]

Sparda Family Bonding Time Series - Part 3

Series Description: It’s family bonding time! Sparda family style! A series of short stories revolving around platonic familial relationships between the members of the DMC crew. Warning: Lots of fluff and bonding ahead.

One Shot

Title: A Place at Our Table

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Timeline: Post DMC5

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2655

Read on Ao3

Summary: She’d had a rough day. At least that’s what Nico told herself when her vision started getting blurry. She was just stressed and nearly dying tended to have that kind of an effect on people. She wasn’t about to cry over Nero calling her family, no of course not. It was just stress. Yeah, just stress.

Notes: At first I thought I would hate Nico’s character, but she grew on me really fast and now I just love her.

Nico grunted as the stubborn bolt refused to come off. The van was in dire need of an oil change and instead of spending the money to take it to a shop, Nero had asked if she would do it. She should have said no.

Scratch that. She should have said, Fuck you.

Was this all she was good for? Being everyone’s pet mechanic? That’s all anybody asked of her; do this, fix that, why isn’t this working?

Would it kill any of ‘em to show a little appreciation now and then?

The bolt gave way so suddenly that she dropped her wrench right on her face knocking her glasses off. She almost screamed, but just barely managed to let out a loud, closed-mouth groan instead.

Well, that hurt like a bitch.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. She inspected her glasses after picking them up, relieved they were unbroken, then set about finding the renegade bolt. She finally located it after what felt like a long-ass fifteen minutes, as it had been hidden under her toolbox where it had rolled way farther than it should have. With all the bolts holding it in place now off, she pulled the bottom panel off the van, and began the process of removing the filter and draining the old oil out when she heard the garage door open suddenly, startling her. She jerked, spilling oil on her shirt and she held her tongue from cursing, not knowing who was at the door since she couldn’t see them from her spot under the van. Nero would give her hell if she swore in front of one of the boys.

Fuck, now what?

“Hey, Nico! We gotta job! When’s the van gonna be ready?”

She gritted her teeth. Five minutes...he couldn’t have come five minutes earlier before she actually started draining the oil out? She wouldn’t have been pissed if she’d just had to slap the bottom panel back on. Well, okay maybe that was a lie. She still would have been pissed, mostly because of that stupid bolt.

It was probably a good thing he was too late, though. She didn’t want to be driving it down the road to who knows where and have it run out of oil. She was not in the mood to fix the problems that would cause.

“You’re too late! Already got the oil drainin’ so this piece of shit ain’t going anywhere for another half hour!” She couldn’t hide the irritation in her tone, but Nero seemed to be ignoring it.

“Make it twenty minutes. We got an emergency situation.” His tone was serious and demanding and that was the last straw for her. She wheeled herself out from under the van and looked up to glare at him.

“You want this done fast then come do it yourself! I’m gonna do it right, so that when we’re driving down the road, the damn engine don’t seize up, stall the van, and force us to build a fucking new one!” She was yelling now, but Nero had dealt with her so long now he wasn’t fazed much.

“Geez, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” All he got in response was more glaring. “Whatever. Just do what you can so we can get going.”

He turned to go back into the house to get ready when he barely heard her mutter something about ‘ungrateful, demanding people’ over the sound of her wheeling herself back under the van. He frowned at that. He’d known her long enough now to realize what was bothering her, but they didn’t have time. He’d have to deal with it later.

Nico felt she deserved a pat on the back, but she figured the only one who’d give her that was her own self. She’d got the oil change finished in just under twenty minutes; a record for her with this hunk of junk. It was a good thing she’d gotten it done, too. There was no way the van would have made it this far out to the middle of nowhere with what little was left in it. It was burning oil off like there was no tomorrow and she groaned at the thought of having to figure out why.

“Yet another shitty-ass problem I’m gonna get stuck fixing,” she said aloud to no one in particular. Nero was around somewhere; off dealing with whatever demons were running amok in the area they’d driven out to while she waited for him leaning against the side of the van, having a smoke.

“Would it kill someone to say please or thank you once in a while,” she said to herself angrily. She took a long drag from her cigarette, completely wrapped up in her horrible mood. So much so, that she failed to notice that her talking aloud to herself had attracted the attention of a red empusa, which was now approaching her from the side.

She’d barely had time to register that Nero was suddenly yelling something at her before she turned and saw the demon too little, too late. Time seemed to slow as she felt her adrenaline rise. It felt almost like one of those moments that people talk about where you see your life flash before your eyes, but the only thing Nico could see in that moment was her death at the hands (or was it claws?) of this demon. The empusa was bearing down on her and she was unarmed; not that there would have been much she could do even with a weapon, but still, there was definitely no way she was getting out of this alive unarmed without a miracle.

Luckily, one in the form of Nero happened to reach her in time. He jumped in between her and the demon and took the hit that was meant for her, suffering a fairly serious injury to his side. He was far from incapacitated though, and he managed to kill the empusa before it tried to run away from him after it realized a greater threat had just interrupted its attempt at killing its prey.

Nico was stunned for only a moment before her brain caught up with what happened. She registered the sight of Nero clutching his side, which was bleeding profusely and immediately sprang into action.

“Shit, Nero! If you wanna kill yourself there are better ways to go out than getting killed by an overgrown maggot!” She grabbed him by the hand on his uninjured side, still running on adrenaline, looping his arm over her own shoulders to help him into the van. Remembering there may have been other demons around, she took a cursory glance of the area finding it clear.

“Last one. Shouldn’t be any more.” Nero gritted out when he saw her scanning the area. She let out a huff of relief. Thank goodness there weren’t any more so she could focus on his injury without worry. He grunted in pain when she hefted him up to his feet and began helping him into the van.

Once inside, she got him to the couch before pulling out the first aid kit, then helped him out of his shirt so she could assess the damage. She grimaced when she saw the wound. Something like that would have surely killed her. Her momentary lapse of attention in her anger had nearly ended her life. Maybe she didn’t fight demons herself, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be on her toes when out in the field. Nero was lucky he was part demon himself, otherwise she’d have a lot more to feel guilty about than just an injury.

“You didn’t have to do that, ya know?” She told him as she wiped the wound clean and set about patching him up. It was mostly unnecessary; the wound would likely be completely gone in a few hours, but it was the thought that counts, right? Plus, it gave her something to focus on. The adrenaline from that tense life or death moment was starting to wear off and she realized she was starting to tremble.

“So…what? I was just supposed to let the thing skewer you? I can take a hit like this, you can’t.” He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but she didn’t miss the wince he made while she wrapped his injured side.

“Still, ya didn’t have to jump in the way. If you were that close, you shoulda just killed the thing without takin’ the hit.” She finished wrapping his wound as he stood up to find his torn shirt.

“Couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t have still been hurt, so I made the best decision given the situation.” He stated matter-of-factly.

Nico just scoffed. “I may be human, but I can recover from injuries too...just not as fast as your clumsy ass.”

“Yeah? But then you’d be out of commission for a while. Can’t let anything happen to my ‘pet mechanic’ now, can I?” He made air quotes around the nickname she’d effectively dubbed herself with. “Besides, that’s the kind of thing you do for family.”

Nico’s head shot up at that to look him in disbelief. “F-family?!” she half-squeaked, half-yelled out. She was flabbergasted at his remark. Did he just call me family?

“Yeah? You’ve hung around this long, put up with all the crazy shit that goes along with being a part of this, and you haven’t turned tail and ran. What else would you be?” He located his shirt and started putting it back on once he finished speaking.

She’d had a rough day. At least that’s what Nico told herself when her vision started getting blurry. She was just stressed and nearly dying tended to have that kind of an effect on people. She wasn’t about to cry over Nero calling her family, no of course not. It was just stress. Yeah, just stress.

Nico took her glasses off to rub at her eyes in an effort to keep the tears from falling. Unfortunately for her, Nero had finished getting his shirt back on and caught what she was doing and he was grinning when she put her glasses back on.

“It’s okay to cry, you know? It doesn’t make you a crybaby.” She cringed as soon as those words left his mouth. She knew exactly where this was going. “Does make you a little bitch though.”

She punched him in the arm, though Nero noticed that not only was she careful to avoid his injured side, she also didn’t punch as hard as he knew she could. “Shut the hell up! If anyone’s a little bitch here, it’s you.”

“Hey! Is that how you thank someone for saving your life?”

“Is that how you say thanks for me patchin’ you up?” They were just taunting each other; fighting almost like siblings, Nico noted; trying to get under each other’s skin, but not really meaning any of it. Just like a brother and sister…

“Hey, for real though, you okay?” Nero’s worried tone brought her out of her thoughts.

“Y-yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t understand why Nero was suddenly so worried. She hadn’t been hurt because he’d protected her; jumped in front of a demon for her, in fact. Though it was unlikely since it was just an empusa, he still could have been killed. And it would have been her fault. What if it hadn’t turned out alright? What would she have done? How would she have told everyone? How would she have broken it to Kyrie?

It wasn’t until he grabbed her hand to hold it steady that she realized she was still trembling…and Nero had noticed, of course. “I’m totally fine. It’s just the adrenaline wearin’ off. I’m fine…t-totally fine.” She couldn’t keep her voice steady as finished talking, the stress from her whole day, nearly dying, and the thoughts and worries that brought out making her voice break.

It wasn’t until Nero was pulling her into a hug that she realized she was actually crying now. When his arms closed around her back, the dam broke loose. She couldn’t stop the sob that tore through her throat and she clutched the back of his shirt as if it were a lifeline.

“Hey, relax,” he shushed her as he comforted her. “You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay, got it? We’ve been through a helluva lot worse. Beside you’ve been around long enough you know me better than that. If I’m gonna die, it ain’t gonna be to some ‘overgrown maggot’ as you so eloquently put it.” Nero’s joke brought a bit of a laugh out of her and helped to calm her nerves a bit. She pulled away and stepped back, drying her eyes as best she could. He was right; they were both okay, even if one of them was slightly injured.

Nico grimaced at that. They were sure to catch a scolding from Kyrie for being careless. Nero seemed to be on the same wavelength as her and made a similar face. “Maybe she won’t notice?” He offered. Nico only gave him a deadpan stare and he shrugged in response. “She’s probably busy fixing dinner right now, so if I don’t hang around when we get back, I doubt she’ll even see it.”

“And if she catches on, I had nothin’ to do with hiding it.” Nico held her hands up as if to absolve herself of any part of the crime of concealing injuries from Nero’s girlfriend.

“Whatever you say. Guess it’s a guy’s job to look out for someone who’s like a sister to him anyway, right?” When he said that, Nico knew he was talking about more than just the scolding they’d get. After all, you don’t jump in front of a demon for just anyone.

“Hey! A girl’s gotta look out for her clumsy-ass brother too, ya know?” They were both laughing now and Nico, having realized she’d calmed down enough to drive, took her place in the driver’s seat. She started the engine, but waited for Nero to sit down before setting off back down the road.

They didn’t get far before he spoke up again. “Thanks.” She turned to look at him briefly before setting her eyes back on the road. “For the patch up, the van…and everything else you do around here.”

She could feel the emotions welling up inside her making her eyes water again and blinked back the sudden tears. It wouldn’t do to start crying while driving. “Yeah? Well you’re welcome. And...thanks for savin’ my ass back there, too.”

“Like I said, it’s what you do for family.” He said it so casually, like she should have already known this. In hindsight, maybe she should have. They’d been through a lot together already. And not just her and Nero, but everyone else, too. Incidents like what happened in Redgrave tended to make a big impact on people’s lives and their relationships with each other.

Neither spoke the rest of the way home, which left Nico to her own thoughts as she drove.

Family, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad.

It didn’t really hit home for her though, until they got back. They came in the back door, through the kitchen and dining room. Nero only stopped to give Kyrie a kiss as she finished up dinner, taking care that she didn’t see the bloody tear in his shirt. Then he went on to put his stuff away, change, and probably throw his shirt away so his girlfriend didn’t find it in the laundry.

Nico, however, stopped as she passed through the dining area and looked at the dinner table. They were six places set, not five like there used to be for just Nero, Kyrie, and the three orphan boys they looked after.

There was one more: for her. She smiled.

← Part 2 • Part 3 of this series • Part 4 →

[fandom-will-be-my-fall]

Spill your heart out about Walter.

Okay so I basically got this question in what, January?? but I’m answering it now since I just rewatched the movie and have inspiration, sorry for the late reply Anon

Okay so, to start off this post with some keyboard smashing because that my primary go-to for expressing my emotions

sgklhfsgjksdlgdghkjlgjhOHUFLUSKHDGSLIDRGKJGKFSDHGlhjglksdhkglshglllllfa. knjcthxiudhusmnvsoidhéytbvonjyxclkkvbr. haeylicfvshdkgikc

HANDSOME BOY. HANDSOME. ‘NUFF SAID.

I could legit stare all day at his beautiful face… look at him. Enchanting sky blue eyes… fluffy, wavy brown hair, cute round cheeks, lovely smile… those hidden freckles that you can hardly spot and only in certain screenshots but nevertheless they’re there to raise the cuteness factor… ALSO HIS LASHES. MAYBE IT’S NATURAL?? MAYBE IT’S MAYBELLINE?? WE SHALL NEVER KNOW

Here you may be able to spot the freckles if you squint hard enough. I have 77 screenshots but this is the best example I could find.

Secondly… well, he’s a sticc. A short sticc at that (though still slightly taller than me bc I’m smol), but a sticc regardless! And that seems to be the most attractive cartoon body type for me. Don’t judge me, I just have a thing for twinks, I’m… twinksexual or whatever.

Look at him! He would fit through my doorcrack.

(Maaaybe the reason for me liking sticcs so much is partially the fact that I like the idea of a boyfriend I can protect and support, physically and emotionally. I’m mad at the universe for not letting me scoop him up in my arms bridal style and smooch the HECK outta him.)

I’ve encountered a few posts that claimed he’s got cake but, come on. That concept has canonically been proven to be false, even by Lance. This man is flat and you can pry this opinion off my cold, dead hands.

Speaking of hands! I like his big ol hands. Nice shape. They look soft. I wanna hold them.

According to a DVD commentary, and the visual facts, he has no shoulders whatsoever. Back in Venice Killian was able to restrain him effortlessly with only one foot on his chest, even as he kept struggling ans squirming and generally put in as much effort as he possibly could. Before then, he claimed the database was the first thing he has ever caught in his life.

Conclusion, our boi’s very much NOT athletic. Which makes sense for a scientist, braining all day and stuff, and because he probably barely even eats, or sleeps which are by the way both pretty concerning implications but anyway.

STOP BEATING UP THIS POOR FRAGILE LAD FOR GOD’S SAKE. Makes me want to protect him even more. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you get what I mean.

Now, on to the actual reason I’m so head over heels for him, a.k.a his personality.

He is one of the sweetest, kindest, purest boy characters I have ever seen in fiction, if not THE number one himself. (All my other cinnamon roll crushes are, or have been a villain at some point and WILL resort to violence if provoked.) Look at him, his pacifism… is unbreakable. He’s dead set on making the world a better place, by peaceful ways, and helping humanity. If that’s not a quality to be cherished then IDK what is.

And he’s just such a refreshing character. He likes pink, K-dramas, glitter, kittens, things that aren’t traditionally “masculine” (but is never made fun of those things in particular in the movie) and I love that. Nothing’s sexier than a man who’s, despite society’s shitty standards, openly and unashamedly himself!

His femininity is, if anything, just another turn-on. (This didn’t intend to sound sexual… but oh well.) I love his little hand gestures and mannerisms, dorky ramblings, the way he says “yep” popping the “p” at the end, all the small yet significant traits that were incorporated into his character. Bless you, SiD creators, bless you.

Have I said that he’s a genius?? Which is pretty obvious but c’mon, he graduated at 15!! He can modify human genes!! He successfully turned a man into a pigeon on the first try!! (The serum wasn’t the first prototype but we can assume he didn’t experiment on living humans with the previous ones.) And he’s still just 20!! Like what is that if not hella fucking impressive???!??

His inventions, to the untrained eye, may seem “stupid” or “childish” but alas! The observer couldn’t be more wrong! Because despite the odd designs and themes they’re all highly effective, as we have witnessed in the battle against Killian. And he is extremely creative for coming up with such ideas! Told you he’s brilliant!!

Which makes me all the sadder about how much they underappreciated him at the agency. In his words, nobody ever listened to him, or gave him a chance. They just left him and his “weird” ideas next to the men’s bathroom and called it a day. How could they be so blind? Didn’t they see the potential in his inventions? Oh well. Maybe I’m just being a smartass bc I have more knowledge, living outside that universe. But I’m totally right.

And I was honestly ready to throw hands with Lance for hurting the boi even further. (I’d stand no chance whatsoever, but still.)

Oh no baby please don’t cry.

He did cry in that scene though… you could see a tear rolling down his cheek and if it wasn’t for the machine beeping… He did have a pretty rough day afterall. But HEY, if we dwell on it too much the scene loses its comedic effect!! A guy gets sad over a stupid soap opera, har har har!! Now let’s move on, keep it fast and snappy for the kids, don’t let them overthink it!! Can’t have any emotional breakdowns onscreen. Keep it lighthearted y’know. Then let’s kill a random side character and have our dear protagonist almost die twice.

(Well jokes on you Blue Sky! I’m no kid, but a devoted fangirl who can and will overthink any material of my fictional faves at any given opportunity.)

You know what else I love about him though?? His love for animals!! And pigeons, especially Lovey!! He loves her so much, gives her gluten free breadcrumbs, nuzzles her, the first thing he does when he finds out Lance can talk to the pigeons is ask if she loves him too!! Like… That’s so pure and wholesome.

This here. THIS RIGHT HERE. BROTP forever.

(Not gonna lie, I used to be crazy for pigeons for like, an entire year or something. Not as in looking up all the facts there are about pigeons as I do nowadays with cartoons, but I’d feed them regularly and write my little observations on their behaviors. Did you know they sometimes scratch their neck with their leggies like dogs do?)

I think I’ve summed up mostly everything I love about this nerd. Oh wait, almost forgot the sass!! I love how sassy and smug he can be sometimes, in like, a really harmless way but it’s still a very nice characteristic.

Since I’ve ran out of coherent things to say, here’s an incomplete list of things I want to do to Walter Beckett. Put at the end of this post so those of you who were only here for the analysis part and not the selfshippy gushing don’t have to read further:

kiss he

like seriously

just kiss he a whole lot

cover his whole face in kisses

one kiss for each of his freckles. a finishing kiss onto the tip of his nose. then repeat the cycle

hug him. hug him like the world is ending. hug him so tight he can barely breathe

then ofc let go and apologize bc I would never hurt him on purpose

cuddle him

hold him close, let him lay his head on my chest

run my fingers through his hair

listen to his breathing

discover that he’s fallen asleep on me and smile fondly, then soon drift off to sleep myself so we can wake up entangled in eachother the next morning

fuck he

pin him to a wall and snog he

make him go cherry red

fluster he

compliment him. praise him. appreciate him. he’s a prince, a hero, an angel, a wonderful human being and he needs to know this

feed pigeons together

listen to his scientific ramblings and bird facts

write him love letters and give them to him. maybe read it aloud myself if I’m feeling brave so I can see his reaction in real time

serenade he

be the love of his life, and have him be mine

just… soft things, man

cook something for this malnourished sticc

make him small handmade gifts

they’re nothing like his gadgets but I tried

draw he

have him be my muse in general

not like he isn’t now but it would be lovely if he was real too

carry him bridal style

be the feral cryptid that lurks in his house when he isn’t around

sing along to cheesy pop-song together really badly

watch cheesy rom coms

flirt with eachother clumsily until we’re both laughing at our awkwardness

or, alternatively, shower him with compliments until he literally cannot handle it

have sleepovers together

give him hand kisses

be of emotional support

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Catching Feelings 6/? (Keanu x OFC)

Summary: AU in which Keanu is down on his luck after he comes to  Hollywood trying to be an actor. To earn some money, he joins this app for   escorts and meets Steph, a rising star who hires him to try to forget   her ex. Neither of them are expecting to fall in love and all the problems it brings. (Previous parts: 1 2 3 4 5)

Author’s Notes: Another week, another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it and as always, feedback is appreciated.

Wordcount: 3375

Warnings: smutish (dirty talk; powerplay; choking; lots and lots of teasing)

Keanu blinked blearily and confused as he looked around his room, trying to figure out what had woken him up this early. His brain was still dazed, his movements sluggish as he followed the noise, hand finally landing on his cellphone which had found its way under the bed somehow.

The sight of Steph’s name flashing across the screen finally kickstarted his brain and he rushed to answer the call, getting caught in a yawn as the facetime call connected.

“Shit! I woke you up. I’m sorry.” She winced, her tone apologetic and he smiled, waving off her apologies.

“It’s fine,” Keanu replied, voice still thick with sleep as he settled back on the pillows. “I needed to get up anyway.”

When Keanu had left Steph’s house the night he went to pick up his bike, he once again thought that would be the end of this thing they had. He hated himself for walking away, even after she cleared up the entire thing with Kevin, but he really thought it would be for the best.

He was falling in love with her way too hard and that was a problem. She was his client and nothing more. Or at least that was what Keanu tried to tell himself until the night he got home after a meeting a client and found a voicemail from Steph. He had no idea how she got her number, but her ramblings on how much she missed him warmed his heart, right until the part the call disconnected suddenly, and Keanu was left wondering if Steph was alright.

Panic only grew when she didn’t reply to his calls or texts and he was already looking up ways to find out where she was staying when Steph finally called back, letting him know she was fine. There were a handful of times Keanu felt that kind of sheer relief in his life and all of them associated with people he loved with all his heart. As if he needed any more proof of his own feelings. The ones he was running from for the past two months.

However, Keanu decided he was done running and that was what made him call her again later. To make sure she was feeling better and make it clear that what he had with her, it wasn’t something he did with just anyone. Keanu might be an escort, but not all money in the world could make him care for someone as he cared for her and he needed Steph to know that.

Admitting to it was liberating and the facetime calls became a routine for them. At least once a day they would talk, share about their day; chat about stupid things, everything and nothing and all in between.

Steph would send random texts throughout the day, pictures of stuff she thought he would find funny. While Keanu would send the things about home he knew she loved and missed.

It was a very welcome change in their… relationship? Friendship?  Keanu had no idea how to call it, but for the first time, he knew it was completely real. There was no money involved. No strings attached, no confusion due to sex. Though he really missed the mind-blowing sex they had, strangely enough, a month of this, talking every day and joking and trying to watch Netflix together even though there were an ocean and several timezones separating them and Steph seemed to have zero self-control and would always watch an episode or two without him was proving to be even more fulfilling. Even if it meant waking up at crack of dawn to talk to Steph when she was coming back from a whole day of shooting like she was now.

Keanu took a moment to really look at her, drinking the sight of her, no makeup, her hair pulled up and away from her face with the exception of a lock of hair that must have gotten loose and was falling over her big brown eyes. To him, she would never look more beautiful and Keanu felt the proverbial butterflies on his stomach as he watched her.

“You look tired,” Steph commented, disappearing off-screen a second before two soft thuds reached his ears. Probably her boots hitting the carpeted floor. “Long night?”

“Yeah. Got home around 2 a.m.,” Keanu said, scratching his five o’clock shadow. He had been toying with the idea of growing a beard, but Mike, their producer, shot the idea down. It wasn’t the look they were going for.

Steph only hummed noncommittally, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as she looked away and Keanu smirked, his heart picking up speed because he knew that look very well. He spotted that look several times through the last few weeks whenever any magazine or gossip site splashed pictures of Steph and her handsome co-star along with rumors of them dating.

“Dogstar had a gig,” he explained, making her look up startled. “Our first paying one. I mean, it barely covered gas, but still…”

“That’s amazing, Ke!” Her grin was blinding, and his heart did a little flip in his chest. He was head over heels of this woman and there was no point in denying anymore. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he replied, ducking his head a little as he felt his cheeks warm. “Maybe you can come to one of them when you get back.”

“I’d love to,” Steph grinned, picking up the phone and moving through the room. The image shook for a bit before it stabilized again and Keanu could no longer see her, only the white tiles of the bathroom. “We still have another month to go. Next week we’re flying back to Paris for some additional scenes. I’ve always wanted to spend my birthday there, but I didn’t think I’d be alone.”

“Where are you?” Keanu asked, scanning the frame, hearing her giggle before her face showed up again, but sideways.

“I’m changing,” she replied.

“So? Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Keanu pointed out with a smirk and Steph rolled her eyes but came fully into view.

She had taken her sweater off and stood there in jeans and her bra and Keanu could already feel his body responding to the sight of all her gorgeous skin. Her hands fell to her buttons, undoing them so damn slowly he wished he could push them away and do it himself.

Steph turned her back on him before pushing the jeans down, actually giving her ass a little wiggle to shimmy out of them and Keanu groaned, his boxers tight over his growing erection.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he complained, rubbing himself and she had the gall to look over her shoulder with her best ‘who? Me?’ look, complete with that big doe eyes and pout and Keanu chuckled. “You were saying something about your birthday.”

“Yeah,” she said, her expression softening a little as she sat on the edge of the tub and turned the faucet on. “It’s the big three-oh and I’ll be here all by myself.” Steph shrugged. “I mean, sure Vincent is taking me to dinner and I appreciate it, but none of my friends will be here. The real ones at least…”

Keanu bit his cheek to keep himself from reacting to the mention of Vincent. It wasn’t that he was jealous, he just… Who was he kidding? It was exactly because he was jealous, but it wasn’t enough to divert his attention from what really mattered. How sad she looked at the prospect of spending her birthday without her true friends.

“When is it again?” he asked, an idea popping in his head. A terrible, unbelievably crazy idea.

---

Keanu paced the room with quick steps, desperately needing to work out some of the nervous energy thrumming through his body and movement had always been the way he did it. Be it by waving his hands around when he was speaking or bouncing his knee or walking around.

Moving his body always had a soothing effect in his mind for some reason and tonight he needed all his strategies to calm himself because if this crazy plan of his backfired, Keanu really didn’t know what he would do.

He had always been an impulsive guy, making decisions without thinking them through. It was what took him to Los Angeles; it was what almost killed him in that mountainside years ago. And now it was what could completely ruin the best relationship Keanu had in a long time.

What if Steph didn’t like the surprise? What if she thought he was crazy for flying all the way to Paris on her birthday without telling her? Yes, she said she wished her real friends could be here to celebrate with her, but it was Keanu who assumed he was included in that category. What if he was wrong? What if he was in love with her, but she wasn’t? What if…

The sound of the phone made him jump and Keanu nearly stumbled on his own feet trying to get it, answering with a quick hello.

“I delivered the envelope, Mr. Reeves,” the concierge spoke, his accent thick and making his words almost indecipherable. “She’s on her way up.”

“Thank you.”

His hands shook as he hung up and hurried through the process of lighting up the candles and dimming the lights, before coming to sit on the edge of the bed, fighting off the urge of bouncing his feet as the minutes ticked by with no sign of her. He adjusted his collar, feeling a little breathless.

What if she went to her own room instead? What if she thought it was some kind of mean joke or a trap from the press? What if she didn’t come at all?

Keanu’s heart lunged in his chest at the low chime of the electronic lock and he got to his feet, coming face to face with a stunned Steph. She stood there for a moment, eyes wide, mouth hanging open and he forced a small, awkward smile.

“Happy birthday?” he said with hesitation, wondering if she hated the surprise until her face shifted into a smile and she all but threw herself on his arms.

Keanu breathed out a sigh of relief, cradling her close to his body, nose buried into her head, breathing in the familiar scent of strawberries. He missed her more than he first realized.

“I thought maybe…” she started, pulling back a little and looking at Keanu with eyes full of wonder and affection. “When you asked me about my birthday, but you didn’t say anything else, I thought it was just wishful thinking, but you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Keanu smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Is that ok?”

“It’s the best birthday present I could hope for,” Steph said, her lips pulling into a grin. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

Keanu cupped her cheek, tracing her face with his thumb, almost as if trying to recommit her features to memory. It wasn’t the same, seeing her through facetime. It didn’t do her justice.

Her hands crossed behind his neck, fingers playing with his hair, massaging his scalp and Keanu tried not to tense as they came way too close to his secret, but since she didn’t seem to notice, he just sighed happily, leaning into the touch for a second, before bending his head and meeting her lips for a kiss, something he was longing for weeks.

Their lips molded perfectly together, finding their rhythm with barely any effort; their tongues moving against one another, tasting and exploring, relearning each other as their hands found their way under their clothes, searching warm skin and familiar curves.

Keanu struggled to get her out of her coat and scarf while her hand moved over his crotch, rubbing him through his jeans and groaned against her lips, getting lost in the feel of it before pulling back and catching her hand.

“I’ve got you a cake,” he announced, and Steph chuckled and nodded, letting Keanu move away from her and lead the way to the table.

Her small gasp at the sight of the black forest mini cake made Keanu grin proudly as Steph glanced from the sugary treat and back at him.

“How did you know it was my favorite?” she asked, and he just shrugged, trying for nonchalant, but feeling so stupidly happy for having put that happy smile on her face. He had googled it like a stalker, but her expression was definitely worth it.

He pulled a chair out for her with one hand, while the other dug through his pocket for the candle and lighter. To Keanu’s surprise, Steph pushed him on the seat and got on his lap, making sure to squirm and wiggle over his cock, dragging out a grunt from him.

“Fucking tease,” he complained, making her chuckle.

“Careful there, Ke. If you keep using that kinda language, I’ll have to gag you,” Steph warned, giving him a sideways smirk. “Or maybe just put that mouth to better use.”

“Cake first” Keanu reminded, arms coming around her to set the candle between the two decorative cherries before lighting it up. “Then you can tie me and gag me and whatever else you want.”

“Is that a promise?” Steph asked her voice low, sounding almost dangerous as she turned sideways on his lap so she could look at him and Keanu gulped, a shiver running down his spine at the look in her eyes.

“Yes,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

Had any woman ever made him feel like this before? Get him this hot and horny with just one look and a couple of suggestive words? Keanu was pretty sure the answer to that was a no. Steph had just a way of turning him on or making him learn things about himself that he never thought it would be possible. It was liberating and that was why he got her that present in the first place. If it wasn’t for Steph, Keanu would never know how much he wanted to try that with her.

At last, Steph turned her attention to the cake in front of her, arching her eyebrow at him Keanu and with a small blush, he sang her happy birthday, his voice low and unsteady. He had no idea why he felt shy about that, but he did.

“You’ve got a nice voice, babe,” she said kissing his cheek.

“I really don’t.” Keanu ducked his head and chuckle. “Anyway, make a wish.”

There was a moment of silence and Steph leaned over, blowing the candle, before turning on Keanu’s lap until she was straddling him and catching his lips in a hungry kiss, rolling her hips tantalizingly and he moaned against her mouth, his cock throbbing and pulsing in his jeans.

“Aren’t you…?”

“Later,” she cut him off, lips traveling over his jaw until she caught his earlobe between them, sucking lightly and pleasure shot through Keanu, his hands tightening over her thighs almost at their own accord. “Right now, I just you to fuck me.”

Keanu tensed for a second, hesitant and unsure of what he was about to propose. Steph felt it and pulled back, giving him a worried look.

“Something’s wrong?”

“No…” he breathed out, brushing away the hair from her face and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I just… got you something.”

“You didn’t have to, Ke,” she hurried to say, and he thought he saw her flush. “Just the fact that you flew all the way here…”

“I wanted to…” he assured, patting her leg gently so she would stand up and he could move to his suitcase and get it.

Keanu hesitated, back turned to her, box in his hands. He took another breath, before facing Steph again and handing it to her. It was a simple black rectangular box, wrapped with a blue bow. Steph pulled it loose and opened the lid, frowning at its contents.

“A chain?” she asked with a confused frown, looking up at him.

“A-uh leash, actually,” Keanu explained, swallowing hard as he unbuttoned the first couple buttons of his shirt, exposing the leather collar around his neck and Steph gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. “Is this ok?”

“Ke… I…” she stuttered, meeting his gaze again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his smile a little hesitant, but very hopeful. “I thought a lot about it and… I never came as hard jerking off as when I was picturing this. I want it.”

She watched him for a moment as if trying to spot a lie in his statement or stance and he fought the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Keanu knew Steph just wanted to make sure he wasn’t just trying to please her, which he was, to an extent, but this was about him as much as it was about her.

Finally, she moved closer to him, eyes never leaving his as she undid the rest of the buttons and pushed the shirt off his shoulders before caressing his chest, slowly making her way to the black band circling his neck.

Her small fingers ran over the edge gently, before she slipped one finger under the collar, making it tighter and Keanu swallowed hard, shuddering at the feel of it restraining his breathing just a little, making him gasp.

“Oh, babe…” Steph whispered, voice low and sultry as she petted his cheek. “You really like this, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.” It still amazed Keanu how quickly he slipped into this whenever she used that tone with him. It was almost a pavlovian reaction by now.

“Then who am I to deny you?” she smirked at him, crooking her finger and tugging lightly on the collar and Keanu followed the motion, bending his head closer to her. Being rewarded with a dirty, searing kiss. “Especially when you’ve been such a good boy.”

She let go of him and took a step back, once again just watching him, lip between her teeth, her eyes dark and full of want.

“You look so beautiful like this, Ke,” Steph said, and he felt his cheeks heating up in embarrassment, so he ducked his head, dodging her eyes and shifting in place, hands clasped together in front of his body. “And you’re blushing? That’s so sweet.”

“Please…” his voice was low, pleading.

Not only he didn’t like being complimented like that, but his body felt like was about to combust and he was so hard it was getting painful. He couldn’t wait anymore. Keanu just wanted her. Almost desperately.

She smiled at him and nodded, moving closer once again and turning her back to him, exposing the zipper of her dress.

“Go ahead.”

He pulled it down slowly, the fabric parting to reveal her back and the purple lace of her bra. Keanu pulled the zipper all the way it would go, before pushing the straps of the dress off her shoulders, letting his lips graze over her nape and smiling lightly when goosebumps rose on her skin.

“I don’t remember allowing you to touch,” Steph chided softly, turning around to look at him and Keanu groaned at the sight before him. She was so damn beautiful.

“Sorry ma’am,” he mumbled, head down.

“No, you’re not.” She smirked.

She grabbed the chain from the box, before clasping it on the metal link on the collar and tugging on it tentatively. Keanu gasped and moaned at the feel of it, the way it tightened and led his movements. His cock twisted inside his pants, making his stumble forward even more uncomfortable.

With her free hand, Steph undid his jeans, shoving it down his hips and clicking her tongue at his lack of underwear. Keanu couldn’t care for anything except the relief of finally having his erection free.

“Someone’s eager,” she teased, pulling on the leash again with one hand, while the other stroked his cock and Keanu’s brain short-circuited at the combination of sensations.

Steph swallowed his moans in another kiss before she nipped on his bottom lip and pulled back to look at his dazed, unfocused eyes.

“This is gonna be fun.”

xx(tbc) xxx

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[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

Cats, coffee, an old apartment and... oh, yeah, the apocalypse

Kanene’s note:

Gooooood day, my lollipops! It's been a while!

Oh my gosh. It's colddd. I wanna sleep and write. How, my dears? H o w

Weeeeell, anyway! This chapter is a little crazier. Can you blame him, tho? Remy is pretty sleepy here. xDD

Poor, poor writing desk. :''3

Coffee is, like... 90% of Remy's self control xDDD

At least he is absolutely, completely alone and there was no one for him bother, right?!

Or any monster/alien/enemy to be afraid of!

...

...Right?

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That is just a Crack Fanfic with Remy and the Sides. There will be angst and action, but it will be more centered in Crack, fluff and being a big, crazy family.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* This is the chapter after that one!  The next chapter will be posted soon!

* Something around 1500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* There aren’t any ship, but feel free to see them in a Romantic or Platonic Relationship!!  ^w^)/

* Remy is pretty sleep here, so this chapter can be a little crazy.

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Try and have fun with new hobbies, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                              [~*~]

Chapter 02 - Your time has arrived

Remy stared at the furniture in the middle of his living room with narrowed, uncovered eyes, since it was night and the Sun wasn’t capable to hurt his chocolate, brown pupil irradiating an almost palpable disapproval as he realized the contrast that such object had in his, now completely clean and reorganized, living room. Not that was its fault, sure, he observed while his upper lip twisted into a thoughtful, unpleased feature; the writing desk clearly had already seen better days. Days when its drawers were complete with all its handles, and scratches didn’t adorned the entirety of its length after surviving several moving. Or even a glorious past where its paint was impeccable and free of flaws, as a sneak that can’t decide with color better matches with their scales, therefore they just throw a variety of paint cans on the floor and slide into it in somersaults and the futile hope that it will work out, but then all the paints just get mixed in an old, strange color and then, I don’t know, the paint cans…

 … They fall

 And the snake... become a writing desk and…

 Falls.

 Or something like this.

Look, it’s 4 AM, just because Remy is awake into another insomnia episode, it doesn’t mean he is functional. You don’t expect a metaphor wonderfully meaningful, Shakespeare.

 His eyes wandered through the desk’s extension once again. He has found a Furniture Store halfway to his apartment and now the picture of the said insistently shined in his mind, as if his brain wanted to tell him something but it was too much tired to formulate the message into words and for that reason it just threw random images in his synapses and hoped that would be enough. A handful flashes of memories gleamed in front of his eyes: The lustrous furniture, the small statues, pleasantly useless which everyone knows that will regret of buying in the exact second they step out of the store, the extremely difficult to clean, but also so comfortable and soft and big and soft carpets, beautiful writing desks…

 Yes, yes, yes.

 Beautiful writing desks, unlike that one, they had handles. 

 Handles, writing desk, store, soft… Wait, his living room was also different. It was… changed, organized, new...

 New as a writing desk he saw in a store.

 Oh, yeah.

 He had been wanting to redecorate his apartment for a long, long time, albeit he never found enough… time to do such a thing. However, which time is better than the present? When an apocalypse broke all the notions of economy formerly intrinsic in the society and the money lost all its value since there were no one in the city to valorize it, anymore.

 Or in the whole world.

 He wonder if there is still people in the world. Some part of Remy, that part usually pushed to the dark corners of his mind which currently was too much sleepy to attempt to hide it, hoped so.

 What was he thinking before??

 …

 Oh, yeah. Store, soft (the apartment’s owner let go an annoyed scoff while glanced to his floor and noticed it didn’t looked comfortable in any way, as a child who didn’t gained his favorite toy. Yet, an unsupervised and with a total of zero self-control left in a store without any camera nor people and with enough strength to run away with his toy, child.) and redecorate his living room.

 The coffee lover wasn’t going to overdo it, of course. He already had moved the couch to the other side of the room seeking to modify his television’s position and open free space to the future his gigantic carpet, which he definitely was intending to get. Comfy enough to sleep in case he falls of his couch (something that occurred with a, at least, irritating frequency) and became without reasons or will to get up, so he could just turn and go back to sleep. He also had already cleaned all the room, floor and furniture with a sweet lavender scent which maybe he had exaggerated a bit, no that he would admit that out loud, not even if someone threatened his coffee (Ha! Remy would like to see some bitch try). The only thing that was missing was the desk.

 He clicked his tongue. Yup. His decision has been made.

 “Sorrey, gurl, but I did everything I could. Your time has arrived.” and, with that emotional speech, he started to push it towards his door. Even empty, the furniture was a lot heavier than it seemed.

 His arm muscles ached and his panting breathe was almost as fast as the sweat droplets sliding down his face, certainly only a consequence about how much heavy and almost impossible to move the writing desk was and absolutely not from the thousands of years spent bathed in sedentary lifestyle without doing a single one physical exercise. Pfff. Of course not.

 His brain sent him an accusing memory of a lost battle against a pickle can tightly closed. Remy told his brain to fuck off.

 The adult fixed his glare at the stairs leading to the ground floor and he could have sworn he heard each one of the steps mockingly crackling at his astonished expression, almost as if they knew that no matter how much Remy stared at them with hate, they wouldn’t disappear nor make the travel easier.

 The only soul woke at 5 AM reorganizing his apartment in the middle of a Post Apocalypse tried anyway.

 …

 Shit.

 He turned, seeking to change the angle and thus push the odious piece of furniture better, his gaze then finally fell on the window which had originally been completed and was now just a hollow shadow of his past.

 (Remy was so good at poetry, seriously. He should write a book. He would get rich easily. He would make so much money until the point when he would be able to buy all the Coffee Shops in the world, then he will order someone to build the biggest caffeine shop of the entire world so he could spent the rest of his life there drinking coffee and watching generic Coffee Shops AU’s being canon. Yeah. It sounds like a great plan. Holy shit, he was so fucking smart. How didn’t he have an Oscar, yet?)

 An epiphany struck his mind.

 He looked at the furniture, the stairs and, in the end, his window.

 …

 Perfect.

 A cat warily wandered down the street, his fur bristling towards the sky in an attempt to make them look bigger and riskier that they usually was, something which, honestly, just their two colored eyes shining mid the cold air of night as two danger signs was enough. The same eyes that now fixated themselves on the messy, shattered pile of pieces of wood in their most diverse sizes and shapes that definitely did not belong in that landscape. The feline hissed to the said before hissing towards of the steps which began to echo in the place, clearly showing their dominance before any and every living being that dared to dwell the same planet as them. However, in an act of mercy, the animal got a notepad from the wreckage and elegantly ran out, researching to their next victim. 

 Remy threw some flowers that he found in a forgotten vase on one of his shelves on the remains of what had once been his desk. His ear still buzzing from the previous crash.

 “We spent great memories together. You did your best and now it's time for you to rest in peace.” - Gave some reassuring pats on the wood and jumped back when a splinter got in his finger, probably karma. The coffee lover wished he had his sunglasses on so his clearly superior human gaze would obtain more effect (effect that didn’t had much help with how much he was shaking his injured hand from side to side, a few begin of tears taking over his eyes’ corners. THAT THING HURTS, OKAY???) - “Bitch.”

 And turned away, hair fabulously dancing in the cold, stuffy nighty wind as he departed towards a Pharmacy nearby, which probably should have some tweeze. His steps sounding and being wobbly by the tiredness due all the exercises executed that night and the sleep, his rebel son, who had finally arrived from its walk. Remy asked to himself if the Pharmacy also possess some chair or couch for him lay down, since there was exactly zero percent of chances for him to use the stairs again in such a short period of time.

 His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, calm and low, albeit of tune and words extremely clear, which had cut through the silent street. The sound was already so weird, new and incredibly nostalgic that, for a heartbeat, he was immediately paralyzed. Wide eyes trying to concentrate themselves enough in the form focusing midst the darkness.

[poppibranchlover]

Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 29

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 28. Now get ready for Part 29!:

In the village square, Poppy’s friends gathered around her, who was holding Branch’s note. She explained the truth about his fate and showed the letter to them, causing great shock in their faces. They all started shouting at once.

“Branch became a cat after disappearing with the mushroom?!” Biggie screamed in horror, staring at the piece of paper.

“And you didn’t even tell us what happened to him?!” Guy added.

“UGH!!! No wonder that cat is so filthy!” Chenille cried out in disgust.

“It’s because he smells like a bunker Troll!” Satin protested to her sister.

Cooper put his hands to his head and shuddered. “Guys, my brain is about to explode! What is this information?” he yelled in disbelief.

Poppy calmed her friends down and tried to explain. “Guys, I know this sounds crazy, but Branch didn’t just vanish. It has been implied he transformed into a cat that I brought home from the animal shelter!”

Guy stepped forward. “Why would you do this, Poppy?” he asked. “I can’t believe you are hiding this secret from all of us, to our village, the whole time!”

Poppy’s cheeks colored. She felt ashamed for keeping her secret. If it wasn’t for finding Branch at the animal shelter, she would’ve hide more of it further. “I didn’t want to worry you guys,” she said.

At a loss of words, the Trolls could only stare at her as King Peppy slowly approached.

“Poppy, explain this to me.” He snatched the note from his daughter’s hands and read it, becoming horrified at the last second. Poppy stared at her knees, trying to calm down. She had to defend Branch at all costs, and she had to show them the truth.

When Peppy looked at the felt cutout of Branch transforming into a cat, he looked at Poppy. “Oh no. Why did Branch transform after releasing the mushroom?” he asked, his voice filled with horror. “This is not possible! It must be why we all need to stay away from that artifact because of its side-effects!”

“I know that, Dad,” said Poppy. “But he seems so curious that he never listened to us.” She didn’t know what to say, so she just managed to finish her sentence. “I can’t believe he never said anything to me after we last saw each other in the woods,” she stated.

King Peppy glanced sharply at his daughter, who knew she had assembled all the pieces of the puzzle together. “You’re right, Poppy,” he said, putting his arm to her shoulder. “Now we know what really happened with the Archaeo morphisis.” He quickly changed direction and exited the village square, walking with the help of his cane. “We must inform the TDI right away.”

He urged Poppy to follow him. She took one last glance at her worried friends and ran after her father.

They went off at the edge of the darkened village to meet up with Nigel. King Peppy handed the note to his lieutenant, and he began to read and examine the contents.

Nigel turned to Poppy, who was kicking a pebble with her foot with embarrassment. “I am totally surprised by your answer, Queen Poppy,” he told her. “The Archaeo morphisis’ powers must have caused a magical side-effect on Branch!” Then he gestured to the crayon handwriting from the paper. “But why is the note written with untidy handwriting?”

“Huh? It’s Mr. Tickle…I mean, Branch, who wrote it to me,” Poppy blurted out nervously. “It was written as a cry for help.”

At these words, King Peppy had opened his eyes wide. “Mr. Tickle?” he repeated.

For a moment, he had seemed to calm down. Poppy saw the fear in his eyes and covered her mouth, immediately regretting her words; her father’s gaze changed, as if it was animated by a flame of frightening shock. The pink Troll began to tremble, understanding what was going on in the mind of the old king and his lieutenant.

Nigel came close to the king. “It seems that your daughter kept Branch as a pet and never told us it was him,” he whispered sternly.

Poppy was speechless. She confronted the two Trolls and protested “That’s not what I mean! I don’t even know the cat is Branch when I first saw him in the pound. He looks adorable, but now I wanted him back in open arms!”

She looked at her father’s eyes with tears in her eyes. “Please, Dad,” she cried. “Believe me. This is the most serious situation I’ve got into. I should have never keep anymore secrets from the village ever again.”

King Peppy looked at her with weary eyes. “It’s okay, Poppy,” he said, hugging her. “I know how curious you have been, but I’m glad you found any proof.”

Nigel spoke up. “So if Branch was now a small animal, is there another side-effect of the Archaeo morphisis’ magical powers?” He scratched his head to find an answer.

This made Poppy lit up with realization. Very quickly, she pulled out her nature journal from her hair and flipped to the page regarding the disadvantages of staying under the mushroom’s spell. She showed the page to King Peppy and Nigel. “Wait, I found an answer! I remember this ONE page from my nature journal, regarding more information about the Archaeo morphisis’ effects!” she explained as she began to read from the page. “According to this, its spell will become permanent after six days, which means Branch will remain as a cat forever!”

King Peppy and Nigel gasped. They both looked at the page of Poppy’s journal. Below the text was a Troll transforming into a cat, just like the felt illustration from Branch’s note.

“Oh no!” Nigel cried. “Peppy, is there a way we can undo the spell of the mushroom?” He looked at the old king to find a solution.

King Peppy began to think for a moment, pacing around as he tried to look for an answer to his lieutenant’s question.

Soon, he focused on Poppy, concern in his eyes. “It is once told there was a cure for the mushroom’s side-effects. A wise old Troll used to say this to me when I was Poppy’s age…”

He spoke in a very serious and deadly voice:

“Fate be changed, look inside, mend the bond torn by pride.“

Poppy looked confused at those words. “‘Fate be changed?’ ‘Mend the bond?’ What does that mean?” she asked, frantically flipping the pages of her nature journal to search for a page regarding a cure.

“It is a meaning of passionate love,” King Peppy explained. “If one can remove the curse based on these words, the affected Troll will be back to normal.”

Poppy stepped forward and raised her arms up. “Dad, how will love save Branch from the Archaeo morphisis curse?” she asked him. “I never heard of that effect before! I need an answer for this meaning!”

King Peppy motioned for his daughter to move close to him. “Listen very carefully, Poppy,” he told her. “You need to find Branch, and once he’s with you, learn from the wise Troll’s words.”

Poppy was starting to get worried. “How can I change him back by mending the bond with him? That’s usually how I bond with pets.” She hung her head and sighed, fearing this demonstration would never work.

“You have to try, Poppy,” Peppy reassured her gently. “As Queen, you are destined to make the right choice.”

Poppy thought for a moment, letting this sink in. Then she nodded, unable to conceal the worry on her own face. “I think you’re right. Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t let anything happen to Branch.”

“That’s my girl,” King Peppy said, patting her shoulder. “Go find him. There’s not much time until sunrise now!”

With extreme determination, Poppy ran off into the woods to look for Branch.

In Troll Village’s animal shelter, Branch was locked in another pound enclosure. He was scared and desperate to get out of here. He grabbed the metal bars of his cage with his teeth. He pulled with as much strength as possible, but the bars were too strong and firmly locked.

Branch even tried banging his head against it, but he fell back and tumbled to the ground, groaning in pain.

It was totally hopeless. He scratched at the bars with his claws and tried screaming for help to no avail.

“No, no! Don’t do this to me, please!” Branch begged. He scratched at his cage door harder and harder, but it wouldn’t break. “There’s been a terrible mistake! I don’t belong here! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

He kept scratching and scraping, panic coursing in his mind. “HELP!!! Let me out! I can’t let down Poppy!” he yelled. Defeated, he stopped scratching the cage door and dropped his head in complete despair.

Branch sighed. Then suddenly, from out of the darkness, a voice spoke. “Hey. You finished biting and scratching there?”

Branch spun around but didn’t see anyone in his cage with him. “Huh? Who said that?” he called out a little nervously.

Looking around, he saw the same cat he had encountered before in a cage just five meters away from him. It looked very angry and disappointed.

“You can’t escape,” the cat with black-and-white fur told him. “I’m trying to tell you that Trolls can’t be trusted. It’s a story as old as time. When things go bad, the first thing Trolls ever done is get rid of the cats.”

Branch stared at the skinny cat in disbelief. “Poppy didn’t even get angry at me. She’s quite nice,” he insisted, slowly approaching the metal door so he can speak clearly to the trapped animal. “What are you doing in here anyway? Did the Animal Control got you too?”

“HEOWRRR!!!” the cat hissed harshly, making Branch recoil in fear with his fur nearly arching from his back. “It’s a long story, but I don’t wanna talk about how I got here!”

Branch knew he had to get out of the pound somehow. He looked up at a window in a ceiling and turned to the cat. “Look, I need to get out of here before the last sunrise! Can you help me?” he asked, looking around at the metal bars in front of him.

“It’s no use, kid,” the cat said glumly. “I told you that Trolls can’t be trusted!” It glared at Branch with its green flaring eyes.

“But the only Troll I can trust is Poppy!” Branch protested as a wash of grief flooded over his face. “When she found me here, I was so happy to be safe and warm with her, and I felt like I’m gonna miss my chance to be with her.”

He hung his head and thought about what he had just said. “Now that I’m back here, I won’t be able to spend more time with her again,” he murmured sadly.

The black-and-white cat prowled forward as it got close to the cage door in its own cage. “Face it. It’s worth a living,” it snarled. “All pets gather here to wallow in our self-pity.”

Flustered at this unbelievable sentence, Branch sputtered “What? No! We can’t stay here forever! We’re totally miserable here!” He put his paw up to the bars of his cage to reach out for the cat, who shrank away. “There are some nice Trolls who care a lot about animals, and you think we’re monsters?” He couldn’t believe what this cat wanted to tell him.

The cat yawned and stretched before turning away from him. “Well, get used to it. We did,” it stated firmly as it settled for a relaxing nap. “As for all of us, we are really monsters that roam in the woods and catch mice and birds every day.”

Branch suddenly felt hurt at these words. In his head, he remembered that one day the mouse called him a monster after he accidentally chased him around the forest, as well as the moment he also chased Wiggles. As he sat down, thinking about how he turned feral and acted very strange in front of his friends, that is when he realized that it was the curse of the Archaeo morphisis mushroom that is stopping him from doing anything. He knew it all this time…that he was a monster himself, and he had almost hurt the most important people he had loved with his own claws.

He peered through the bars of his cage, hoping to find a way out. But instead, he thought about venturing in the dump earlier and getting himself into trouble again. His ears and whiskers droop and his tail folded around his legs as he kept thinking about ignoring Wiggles’ advice, how stubborn he felt and how he got himself distracted in his surroundings.

“But…I don’t want to stay here,” Branch said, trying not to cry but couldn’t hold back his tears. He had now realized the actual truth from his own eyes. “Poppy needs me. Everyone needed a village grump like me. Wiggles is right. I should’ve listened to him and go home.”

As he glanced down at his two front paws, Branch knew that all of this was true. He regretted entering the village dump in the first place, and all he wanted to do was to be safe and sound inside Poppy’s pod. At that point, he knew he had gone too far, just like Wiggles had warned, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He slumped down on the floor of his cage and burst into tears, completely devastated at his own mistake. He wanted to change it more than anything, but he couldn’t.

Tears flooded in his eyes, and the lump in his throat made him suffer even more. “He was right about me,” he sobbed as his tears ran down his face. “This is all my fault! I’m crazy for what I’ve just done! Now I failed Poppy, Wiggles and my friends and family! They’re never gonna see me again! I just want to go home.”

The tears didn’t stop flowing, and Branch just kept crying and lamenting about his failure. “I want to go home…” he whispered sadly as he rested his head down to his front paws. “Maybe I will do nothing and stay here forever. Maybe I’ll just lay down here, and rot like the rest of you.”

He closed his eyes and cried even more, feeling very hopeless and continuing to blame himself for everything that had gone wrong. He whimpered gently for a second, and then he let out a sad, depressed meow. “Meeeeeeeeeeooooooowwww!!!”

From its cage, the black-and-white cat stared at Branch, who was still crying in his cage. Deep down, it wanted to comfort him, but it just shrugged and turned away from him, curling itself back to sleep. “Let him cry,” the cat told the other captured animals from their own cages, who all stare at him for a moment before turning away as well.

Branch clenched his teeth as he continued crying, letting his tears fall from his face to the cage floor. He was broken. Really heartbroken. He didn’t know what to do except failing to listen to others, including King Peppy and Poppy, who had been warning him not to touch the Archaeo morphisis mushroom that day.

He looked up at the window in the ceiling of the room, revealing the night sky. The moon will be descending down very soon, and now that he is still trapped in here, there is no way to get out and transform back. He slowly looked away, resting his chin between his front paws.

“I failed you, Poppy…” Branch muttered under his breath. He broke down, sobbing for the rest of the night.

                                            To Be Continued…

                                         Stay tuned for Part 30!

[red-pill-blue-pill]

Road trip. John Wick. Chapter One.

A/N: It’s been so long I’ve almost forgotten how this website works. Okay, this has been sitting in my drafts for like three months and I’ve only written this part ‘cause I’m terrible at keeping up with stuff BUT I’m going to try to get this done. There won’t be a specific “update day” cause my life’s a mess and when I’m not working I’m doing uni stuff but I’ll try to get some time to write the next chapters (and the requests I have left oh my god I’m so sorry). The next update may come next week or in a couple of months, only God knows. However, I hope you enjoy 💖. This is kind of a shitty chapter too, I don’t know what else to say, don’t expect much from me ‘cause I don’t wanna disappoint you guys. 

Summary: Road trip around Italy yay!

Word Count: 2,007

Warnings: None.

“Look at this.” you said with your eyes glued to the laptop screen. The web of AirItalia was on display before you. You pointed at one the cheaper flights while John stood behind you, leaning over your shoulder to get a better look at the screen. 

“Mhm, that’s a good one but, baby, you know money isn’t a problem.” He kissed the top of your head and you leaned into the back of the chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I know but you always pay. Makes me feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You turned your head to look at him pouting your lips and making him laugh lightly. “But you’re not doing it. Just pick the one you like the most. I know you want this to be perfect.” You sighed resuming your task. You knew it was impossible for you to win his fight, it was like talking to a concrete wall when it came to money stuff.

You had been meaning to go on vacation together for a couple of months but every time the plane tickets were booked something came up; family emergencies or last minute work calls, forcing you to postpone your little vacay yet another time. However, this time you took care of everything. You made sure to convince your boss to free your schedule for a month, those years of hard work finally paying off. John called Winston to let him know he was going to take a month off, asking him to let administration know so no contracts were sent his way during that time. It was going to be perfect. You were planning to drive all over Italy, visiting all the important cities and discovering all those little romantic villages you saw in films. The thought of John speaking italian made you squirm on your seat.

He barely kept up with the plans you made, you were the one in control this time. You wanted to take him to cute intimate restaurants, wear summer dresses that you knew would drive him crazy, kiss him under the string lights hung on the streets, get wine drunk and tease him under the table. You also wanted to share with him one of the things you loved the most: art. Going to one of the most artistic countries was like a dream came true for you and, considering the fact that he loved seeing you enjoy things, he was going to be the happiest man ever.

The trip started in Milan, you would go east to Venice, then down to Bologna, Florence, Pisa, Siena, Rome, Napoli, Capri and finishing in Sardegna. It was going to be the perfect vacation. You had made a list with places to visit and restaurants with good reviews that you wouldn’t let him see, saying everything had to be a surprise. Actually, he only got to choose the hotel and the rental car.

Weeks passed by and excitement creeped its way through your body, infecting John each day that passed. The only thought on his mind was the fact that he got to spend the whole month exploring a new country - yes, he had been in Italy before but only for business so it didn’t really count - with the girl he was in love with. For someone like him, who had lacked the presence of an emotional connection with someone and the freedom of doing what he wanted his whole life, this was a big deal. This came to show that even John Wick could have at least a glimpse of what everyone had: a normal life.

 “C'mon! We’re gonna be late!” you said from downstairs, your creaking voice eliciting a loud laugh that came from their bedroom. You cleared her throat while suppressing a giggle yourself “You won’t be laughing so hard after I come up there and beat your ass, Mr. Wick!”

 He laughed even harder while he walked down the stairs with a couple of suitcases. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” His hair, still wet and in need of a light comb, fell on his face as he put their luggage on the floor. 

“Well now I know why it took you so long. Who gave you the right to be this handsome?” You put one arm over his shoulder while you reached with your other hand to pull away some of the strands that were still over his face. His arms snuck around your waist as he pressed you flush against his chest. 

“I don’t know I guess they put too much "handsome” in the mix when they made me.“ He smiled cheekily while leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. 

Your heart fluttered, it always did. His soft lips and the light scratch of his beard on her face made you fall in love more and more each time you kissed. You turned the sweet kiss into a more passionate one, lightly biting his lower lip and tangling your hands in his hair. You got a low grunt as an answer. He knew where you were going and if he obliged you would totally miss the plane. He tried to push you away but you held onto his shoulders 

"Just a quickie.” you mumbled against his lips as you grabbed the hem of his shirt and started lifting it. 

“Baby, we’re going to miss the plane, remember?” He pulled away and looked at your pouting face, chuckling to himself. “Let’s go.” He said as he opened the door and held it for you. 

You reluctantly grabbed your suitcase and walked out towards the taxi that was waiting for you.

The ride to the airport was quiet. John knew you were mad. Well, not mad, irritated. You had your arms crossed and was looking out the window, not even bothering to look at him when he put his hand on your thigh. He chuckled earning a quizzical look from you 

“What are you laughing about?” You said. Your tone was stern but he knew it was getting hard to keep yourself mad at him. 

“I know why you’re mad at me.” His hand started trailing up your leg. You squirmed under his touch. You hated to admit it but the effect he had on you was pretty obvious. You struggled to keep your face straight and your voice steady.

“Then tell me why.” You teased. He leaned closer to you, making sure the driver couldn’t hear what he was about to say 

“Trust me when I say there wasn’t anything I wanted to do more than to fuck you against the front door, but then we would’ve missed the plane and that would have made me so, so sad because, you see, I’m really, really looking forward to fuck you all around Italy.” You sucked in a sharp breath, your thighs tensed at the words that left his mouth which was now curled in a mischievous smile as his hand creeped dangerously closer to your crotch, almost gracing it. You gulped, your brain trying to send the signals to make you speak 

“Don’t start anything you won’t be able to finish.” You said as you put your hand over his and moved it away. Your eyes looked into his daringly and he looked away while he let out a loud laugh, startling the taxi driver. 

“Baby, you’re playing with fire and trust me when I say you’re gonna get burned.” He said breathlessly after the laughter stopped.

The flight was long and dreadful. Your legs were sore, his back hurt like hell and jet lag was a bitch. All you wanted was to arrive at the hotel and sleep for two days straight. Instead you waited and waited for your luggage to come out on the conveyor belt in baggage claim and then you waited a little more to pick up the car you had rented. Finally it was your turn and John walked up to the counter. You could make out some italian words as you heard him speak but you were too tired to think about how sexy it sounded, you just wanted him to end with the talking and to get you both the hell out of there. It was ten o'clock in the morning, the sun was shining bright and you raised your hand to shield your eyes as you regretted packing your sunglasses in your stupid suitcase. Meanwhile, John mocked you and danced around while he put his black rayban on. 

“Where did you get all that energy from’” you said as you struggled to drag your suitcase through the parking lot. 

“We’re in Milan baby!” He ran to you and kissed you sweetly, his excitement was obvious and, although he had never been so tired, it felt good to be far from home on a new adventure.

It didn’t take you long to get to the hotel. Well, you wouldn’t know since you fell asleep the second your ass was sitting on the car seat. John just chuckled quietly and turned on the radio to have something to listen to so he wouldn’t fall asleep too. He parked in the hotel’s parking and walked around the car to open the passenger’s door. He shook you softly and your eyes opened slowly. 

“Baby, wake up, we’re here.” The only response he got was a tired groan as you got out of the car and walked to the trunk to pick up your suitcase, his hand snatching it from you as soon as you grabbed ahold of it. “I got it.” he said as he smiled sweetly at you.

John walked up to the counter, once again, and spoke italian, again. The concierge gave him the key to your room and you wasted no time dragging John behind as you rushed to the elevator. When he opened the door with the magnetic card you eyes widened at the sight before you. There was a huge living-room decorated with ebony furniture that, mixed with the flowery carpeted floor and green sofa, gave it all a forest-like ambiance. A huge bouquet of flowers was placed in the small table in front of the sofa and the enormous windows allowed light to illuminate each corner of the room. To the left there was a huge king sized bed with white silky sheets that screamed for you to take the nap you were so desperately needing. To the right there was a white marble bathroom with a huge bathtub that, although you couldn’t see, you knew it was a jacuzzi. There also was a big window that allowed you to look down at the city (or the city to look up at you) when you were having your lovey-dovey moments in the tub.

You turned to look back at John who had a cheeky grin planted on his face “do you like it?” he asked already knowing the answer. 

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect!” You squealed while jumping into his arms and kissing his face all over “You’re the best!” 

John giggled as he carried you to the bed and set you down softly, his hair falling to his face as he hovered over you. The laughter stopped and you looked at each other, your gazes full of love and adoration. He leaned down, his lips softly gracing yours and making your heartbeat speed up. You leaned up and smashed your mouth against his. He grunted and returned the kiss with the same passion, tongues meeting and teeth clashing together. Your hands were all over his body, tugging at the soft fabric of his t-shirt and scratching his back. He moaned into your mouth as your hand reached his crotch, rubbing him through his pants. You grinned at the sound and suddenly pulled away brushing your untamed hair with your hands. 

“I think I’m gonna get some sleep.” You faked a yawn and scurried out of bed to put on you pajamas. John looked at you incredulously as he stifled a laugh. 

“Wanna play nasty? You’ll see.”

____

I don’t have a taglist but if you’d like to be added just send in a PM or an ask and tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this one or in everything I write 💖

[rynhaswritersblock]

midtown morning announcements | p.p.

a/n: in this story YOU are a reporter in the announcements and betty is NOT!!!!! sorry betty love you bae <3

summary: as a reporter for midtown tech's daily announcements, it's easy to get carried away with ideas. especially ones involving the newest superhero from queens.

warnings: cussing, some chaotic energy, 5.6k words because i POPPED OFF, messy epilogue but just roll w me

+ + +

"Oh my god, she's crushing on Spider-Man."

You tried. You really tried. Sure, you were friends with Betty and Liz, but god, if some of their conversations didn't make you want to scream.

Nevertheless, you whirl around. The statement was too absurd for you not to. Liz, the pretty, popular girl, had a crush on a hero whom she'd never seen the face of.

Now that was a story.

You spin back around, snatching the book out of MJ's hands and ignoring the look she gives you.

"How soon do you think I can convince Mr. Harrington to give me an extra segment in the announcements?"

+ + +

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I just don't think there's enough time to-"

"Mr. Harrington, please," you plead. "We can cut the segment about.. what's it called? What's New in the Teacher's Lounge? Trust me when I say this: talking about the new coffee filters and low stock in the vending machines only loses everyone's attention."

A sigh falls from the mans mouth. He scratches his beard thoughtfully and you bite back a grin at his dramatically thoughtful expression.

"Okay, fine, Madam Reporter. You can have your segment on Spandex Man," he says.

A smile pulls the corners of your lips. "Thank you, Mr. Harrington, you won't regret it."

He just nods his head, an awkward silence filling between the two of you. He eventually catches the hint and turns around, beginning to walk away, muttering.

"I swear, teenage girls and their obsession with men in tight clothing."

Your eyes widen and your face explodes into an expression of defense before you turn around, face-to-face with MJ.

"So?"

"I got it."

A smirk breaks on the girls face. "Ready to shoot?"

Your eyes widen and move over to the wall of the reporting room, the clock reading 7:29 am. One minute before filming time. You look back at MJ and shrug hopelessly, jogging over to the setup in front of the cameras and sliding in next to Jason.

"Hey, Y/N-"

"We're cutting the teacher's lounge segment and I'm replacing it with a different one," you blurt, then turn to the camera as the red light turns on and begins blinking.

"Wha- Good morning, students of Midtown Tech!"

You suppress a laugh.

"Today is Wednesday, September 21st. Happy Fall," you smile. While you were never anxious in front of the camera, you were completely unprepared. The change in segments was made literally two minutes ago, and the only ones with that knowledge were you, MJ, and (kind of) Jason. Thankfully, MJ was a quick scriptwriter, but this was something you wanted to make perfect. Your perfectionism wasn't easily controlled, and with a new segment like this, you wanted to make it just right.

You and Jason swapped reporting different details about events, the weather- the sort of stuff a lot of students didn't really care about. But, as soon as you saw the words "Y/N: INTO SPIDER-MAN SEGMENT" on the screen, you knew this would grab everyone's attention. You also knew that you would kick MJ later for not even giving you a script when you knew she was capable of at least writing a few things.

"Ohhhh-" Jason gasps, understanding what you'd meant earlier. You hit him in the arm before mentally preparing yourself as quickly as possible.

"Word about the new hero, known as Spider-Man, has taken over Midtown Tech, and everyone seems to have the same question: who is the man under the mask? Well, Tigers, I've decided to take it upon myself to discover this upcoming Avenger's identity. In this segment, you'll see interviews and videos of the hero, as well as a link in which you can scan a QR code on the screen and submit guesses, and later vote on who you think it is!"

"Yo, that's dope," Jason nods, looking at you, impressed and surprised.

"It is," you smile at the camera. "Now onto Cindy, who is with the Mr. Harrington to talk about the importance of, um, kissing your pets at least 10 times daily..?"

The filming session wraps with you and Jason doing your signature sign-off (putting on sunglasses and playing Midtown's anthem on kazoo's). You slide out of the chair, setting your glasses on the table behind you and walking over to MJ with a sigh.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Hey man, you did fine without a script," she retorts, raising her hands in defense.

"I'm aware," you raise a brow.

From across the room, you can hear the editors grouping around the computer, laughing at all the memes and sound effects they're gonna put in.

+ + +

Not good. Not good not good not good not good.

Peter Parker stood frozen, feet away from one of the multiple TVs in the hallway, jaw slack as he stares at the screen.

Not even the chaotic memes and crappy video effects could make him laugh (the boy had a weak spot for Comic Sans).

He knew who you were. Peter'd occasionally see you in the hallways, and you'd always smile or even just give him a small look of acknowledgment. Still, never talked. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably a good thing. The second you figure out Spider-Man's voice, it'll be engraved into your brain, and there'll be no hiding if you approach him.

"Hey, Peter!"

The boy jumps, spinning around to see Ned, about 20 feet away, bright smile painted on his face as he waves a bit aggressively. Peter mentally prepares himself before walking over, plastering a (hopefully convincing) grin on his face. Ned, of course, is oblivious and falls for it.

"Dude, did you watch the announcements today?! That shit is crazy! I mean, Y/N's so smart and stuff, she's probably gonna figure out who it is in, like, two weeks," Ned babbles.

Peter looks around cautiously, feeling as though all eyes are on him, despite the fact that he was most definitely on the bottom half of the popularity list.

"Yeah, weird."

Just then, he sees you turn around the corner with MJ, waving to someone he didn't know, and catches a smile on your face.

His prior neutral opinion about you began to shift.

+ + +

By the end of the day, you were practically floating. The entire school was buzzing about the new segment- hell, it almost creeped you out how excited everyone was. At lunch, people couldn't stop glancing over at you, whispering about who they thought Spider-Man might be. At first, the looks were different, interesting, but now they just made you plain uncomfortable. Nonetheless, when you stepped outside after the final bell and everyone's mind shifted from the segment to the idea of getting home, you felt proud.

And, although the two of you were apart, both in terms of distance and relationship, you and Peter felt the same feeling as you flopped onto your respective beds in your respective apartments:

You now had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

+ + +

The FBI agent in your phone was probably terrified. You went from being an average, phone-using teen, to being a complete stalker, notes and news apps taking over your storage- all to make sure you'd never miss a story. Moreover, you'd done all this within the last two hours.

With the exponentially rising expectations from your classmates, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't let anyone down. That started today: the day of the Spider-Man's Secrets debut.

Just as you lay back on your bed, back sore, you come to the realization that all of these precautionary apps would only give you the scoop after the incident. AKA: not soon enough. You groan, rolling off your bed and slipping on your shoes, grabbing your keys and making your way out of the apartment.

While hadn't necessarily wished to be walking through the streets of Queens as the sky darkened, part of it was kind of peaceful. If you ignored your paranoid thoughts.

Nonetheless, you thought, if you were to get attacked, the man of the day would show up, right?

A sigh falls from your lips as you round the corner, figuring you'd go to Delmar's and get a sandwich. And pet Murph.

Your plans are foiled when you stop in your tracks at the sight of Spider-Man battling some robbers in the bank. Even though your eyes widened, you let out a small laugh- the robbers were wearing Avengers masks. How nice for Tony Stark's image.

The whole situation looked like one of those weird money-tornado things you'd seen at arcades. You rip your phone out of your pocket and begin recording just as a purple beam shoots out of the bank, streaming in a haphazard circular shape and nearly hitting you. A yelp elicits from your mouth as you duck. When you rise, the robbers are gone, and Delmar's is on fire.

"Holy shit," you gasp, checking to make sure your phone is still recording.

You felt a little stupid as you ran over to the building, phone in the air like a goddamn touristic maniac.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to get out of the way, it's-"

You feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back. You begin to wriggle out of the grasp before you turn your head and meet eyes with Spider-Man. The large white eyes of the mask widen, as do yours.

"It's, um," he clears his throat, lowering his voice and using a Jersey accent, "too dangerous."

In a flash, he's gone, leaping through the broken window and yelling for Mr. Delmar, voice back to its high state. You're stunned, not having expected to have gotten that lucky on your first night, as well as from the state of the building you had loved so much. You stay there, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, chewing nervously on your nails as you wait for Spider-Man to run back out, hopefully with Mr. Delmar and Murph.

You had a job to do.

A relieved sigh leaves your lungs at the sight of the hero helping Mr. Delmar out, handing him Murph with such a careful and cautious demeanor that gives the hero so much humanistic personality that it practically knocks you out.

You knew you were one to notice body language, but watching someone without being able to see their face only amplified them. You watch silently as Spider-Man hangs his head as he walks away from the scene, looking tired, ashamed almost. People begin gathering around the building, videoing and a few going over to Mr. Delmar and lending him support. A ping of guilt rings through your veins before you remind yourself of your job.

"Excuse me?"

He stops, turning around. Reporters begin pulling up in large news vans.

"I have a few questions."

+ + +

The only time you'd ever flown was at the airport. Or in your dreams. But never this way.

Your heart was still racing, despite having landed on the roof of some building almost a full sixty seconds ago.

"Sorry, but could we hurry this up? I kinda, uh, need to get home," he says, hints of paranoia lacing his words.

"Yeah, sorry, just, you know, have never swung on a fucking web multiple stories up before," you nod, pursing your lips and instantly regretting your harshness. "Sorry."

He nods. You pull up the voice recorder app on your phone and hit the button. A rush of awkwardness hits you.

"So, uh, Spider-Man: tell me about yourself."

"Well," he scratches the back of his neck nervously. His voice is deep, with that same rich Jerseyan accent. You don't buy it at all. "I'm, well, I'm Spider-Man. I like.. helping... people?"

"Uh, yes-" you blurt, nodding your head. You didn't want to completely bombard him, you wanted to just intro him and get some exclusive information. "How did you get your powers?"

He goes on to explain that he was bitten by a radioactive spider. Luckily for you, he goes off on a tangent, ranting about how weird it was and what exactly his powers were. You smile every time you notice his accent and deep voice slip into something that sounded more natural- higher, but natural.

Based off of the hints of his voice alone, you'd guess he was anywhere from 12-18 years old.

"And then I would wear like super big shirts to school to try and hide it because I didn't want to look suspiciously stronger--"

"School?" you interrupt.

"Oh, uh.. yeahhhumIgottago!" he blurts before awkwardly backing up, jumping off the building and swinging away.

A smile creeps onto your face. Enough to satisfy your classmates.

+ + +

"Luckily, I was able to catch the hero right after the incident, and he swung me with him to the top of a building for privacy from other news stations and police officers," you smile, ignoring how Jason was bouncing excitedly next to you, eager for information. He was a prime example of the excitement going on around the school.

"Spider-Man received his powers from a bite from a radioactive spider, and gained his new skills over night. Reportedly, he woke up with defined and large muscles, giving him the physique you can catch while he swings by. He has super senses that can detect any form of danger, 'sticky' hands and feet, and crafts his own webs that have been incorporated into his suit, given to him by Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. Here's a vocal clip from our interview!"

Normally, the sound of the announcements would be substantially muffled by the sounds of kids moving everywhere and chattering, but not anymore. Now, students grouped around the TVs, whispering. Peter had tried so hard to ignore your voice while not seeming suspicious.

But, as soon as he heard his own voice through the speakers, the announcements had his full attention.

He was relieved that you'd used a clip in which he'd been lowering his voice and using an accent, but there was a second in there where your masked voice slipped. Not good.

The boy suffered through the school day, ignoring the gossip of students, including Ned. Not to mention MJ suspiciously eyeing him during lunch. Either she had a crush, or she knew something. Peter suspected the latter.

As soon as the bell rang, he darted out of the doors, going to his usual hiding spot and changing, swinging as quickly as he could to the Stark Tower. The boy landed at the front steps, bending over and panting for a second before mustering up more energy and running up to the door, ringing the buzzer as many times as he could.

"Welcome to Stark Tower," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, monotone. "Identification, please."

"Peter Parker," he pants, pulling up his mask and looking into the camera.

"Unknown identity. Access denied."

A buzzer rang off and the boy frowned.

"Let him in, F.R.I.," Tony yells from inside, walking over and opening the doors. "Hey, Pete."

"Hi, Mr. Stark. Why wouldn't it let me in?"

The two walk into the main entrance.

"No reason."

"What?"

"I just have a different name for you in the program, that's all. If the name doesn't match the face, the doors don't open."

"What name do you have for me, then?"

Tony sighs, hints of mischievousness in his eyes. "Underoos. Can't believe you wouldn't think of that."

"Got it, sorry," Peter nods, clutching the mask in his hand. "I need you to put a voice changer in my suit."

+ + +

You were starting to get a bit worried. Spider-Man had started using a voice changer in his suit, and when you asked about it, he said he'd heard about you using his voice in a school announcement, and he needed to maintain anonymity.

Of course, this had taken a toll on you.

Not only did it lessen your chances of figuring out who this kid was, but it made you feel bad. After all, you were disrespecting a hero's privacy, trying to expose them to a mass of teenagers. And all he was doing was trying to protect the very place you lived in.

You'd managed to catch him at just about every incident he'd been in, but each time, he got less and less open about everything. You were running out of questions that you deemed fairly respectful, and he became very closed off, and for good reason.

If you exposed him, he'd be much more susceptible to attackers, who'd then be able to hurt the people he loved. You sigh as you begin your walk home from school, wracking your brain for more questions. You'd dug yourself into some deep shit.

A flash of red and blue pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Spider-Man!" you yell, eyes widening when you notice a few people look at you and then divert their attention to him, gasping. You mutter a profanity before jogging over to where he'd landed on top of a traffic light. "I have a few questions."

"Yeah, of course you do."

As if the deep and robotic voice wasn't cold enough already. You hear a loud sigh at your perplexed expression, and before you know it, you were flying again, landing a bit harshly on the roof of another building.

"Ouch, okay."

"Sorry," you hear him mutter. "Off the record?"

You nod and watch as he presses a button on his wrist.

"Look-"

A smile begins creeping on your face at the sound of his normal voice, but you bite it back.

"- I don't know why you're doing this. What I do know, though, is that you're trying to expose my identity to a large group of highschoolers. Do you realize how much trouble that could cause me, Y/N? I mean-"

"Shut up-" you interrupt harshly. "You know my name?"

"What? No, I, uh-"

"You just said my name."

"It was a wild guess!"

"The fuck do you mean a wild guess?! Do you go to Midtown?"

Even the mask can't hide his panic. Holy shit.

"Look: exposing me would literally ruin my life. I need you to shut this down. All of it."

"I would if I could," you say, exasperatedly. "I don't know whether you go to my school or you somehow stalked me and found my name, but: I'm a reporter for the Midtown Tech daily morning announcements. I made a promise to my classmates that, given the craze about you, I'd try and discover your identity. It blew up, way more than I expected. I have the weight of the world on my shoulders now; I can't give this up! Everyday, at least one person comes up to me and asks about you."

"You do realize that, by exposing me, you'd cause more trouble than by just letting it go?"

You're silent for a moment. He's right.

"I'll figure something out."

+ + +

"Yesterday, when I approached him yesterday, Spider-Man swung us onto another rooftop for another private discussion, in which he answered more questions."

Lying stung you like a bitch. Off the record, you remember.

"The hero claims that he's working on becoming an Avenger, training with the current members so that he can be on the team. Unfortunately, that's all he was able to tell me last evening, as he claimed he had something to do and swung away."

You sigh when the red light turns off, slipping out of your chair and over to where MJ sat. You grabbed your bag and began walking away.

"Was all of that true?" she asks as she follows you out. You nod. "You sure? Because something was off about it."

"It's all true, MJ, I'm just tired."

Peter's face was scrunched up, confused as he watched you on the screen, explaining about Spider-Man's supposed plans to join the Avengers. And then it clicked.

You were actually helping him.

After everything that'd happened, he'd half expected you to just full out expose him. To take your assumptions and spill them all over the school, telling everyone that Spider-Man was a student at Midtown Tech who knew your name. Peter hated how good at correctly assuming you were.

Thankfully, though, everyone bought it.

"Yo, did you hear that?"

"Hmm?" the boy hums, raising his eyebrows and looking over at Ned.

"Spider-Man's going to be an Avenger!"

"Yeah, that's, uh, that's really cool," Peter smiles, trying to match Ned's optimism. The smile drops slightly when he sees you walk past.

+ + +

You found a loophole. Upon reading all the comments on your Spider-Man link from announcements, you decided to start interviewing random students to get the content you needed.

All throughout lunch, you'd been pulling kids aside- Cindy, Liz, Betty, Flash. A sigh falls from your mouth as Flash walks away (with a bit too much pride for having just gushed about the hero), and you look around the cafeteria for more people.

You meet eyes with Peter Parker.

"Peter," you call, waving him over.

He mutters a word May wouldn't approve of, patting Ned on the back before trying to mentally crush his anxiety. He begins to sweat.

"Can I interview you for my segment on the morning announcements?"

All he does is give you a slight smile and nods. You knew Peter was quiet, but you'd think he'd be a bit less cold.

"So, Peter, have any guesses as to who Spider-Man may be?"

He was trapped. The boy stood in front of you, silent, mouth slightly ajar.

"Peter?"

"I don't know," he blurts. You freeze.

"What was that?"

He trips over his words. "Oh, uh, nothing, I didn't-"

"Holy shit," you whisper. You could've been making a complete fool of yourself acting so dumbstruck, but you'd be damned if you didn't just crack the code.

"Y/N, I-"

"So, Peter," you clear your throat, giving him a look. "Who do you think it is?"

"Flash."

An ungodly-sounding laugh bubbles out of your chest, causing him to laugh too. The two of you share a knowing look.  

"Thank you for your response."

+ + +

You hated the dark. It always made you paranoid. And, while the lights from all the stores and streetlamps helped, it wasn't the same as daylight. Anything could happen in New York.

You also hated how right you were about that.

You were on your way back from doing some brainstorming about how you'd continue the segment at Delmar's when you heard a rustle in the bushes. While it was your stereotypical horror movie sound, it still creeped you out. You couldn't out-walk it, though. A pair of hands wrapped around your body and began pulling you backwards.

Shit.

A loud yelp elicits from your mouth before a hand wraps around it too, and you try to wriggle out of the strong grasp. You manage to get a hand free, wrapping it around their wrist and twisting it off of your face before spinning around, meeting a dark pair of eyes underneath a generic "robber" mask.

"HELP," you yell, kneeing the guy in his crotch, finally freeing yourself as he falls to the ground. You'd never run so fast. The sound of footsteps behind you gets closer, but stops with the sound of hard impact and a groan. You stop and turn around.

Spider-Man is there, giving the guy a final punch in the jaw before webbing him to the wall and backing up, pressing a few buttons on his suit before looking up at you.

"How predictable and cliche," you sigh, rubbing your arm.

The sound of sirens begins wailing in the distance.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so-"

"Here," he says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to a rooftop, coincidentally, the one belonging to your apartment building.

"You sure have a knack for swinging me onto rooftops, don't you?"

"There's never anyone on them, so," he shrugs. You smile slightly- his voice masker is off. You were right.

You walk over to the edge, sitting down and dangling your legs over the edge. He joins you.

"Hey, um, if you could maybe not-"

"Don't worry, Peter. I won't," you say, looking over at him reassuringly. He sighs.

"Guess I can take this off now."

You watch as he pulls off the mask, taking a deep breath and shaking out his curls. You don't let yourself stare and instead just smile, looking down beneath the two of you.

"That's my apartment," you point down, slightly to the right at the fire escape.

He looks up at you in surprise and the wind gets knocked out of you. You'd never seen Peter Parker the way you did right now. He'd always been this mellow kid, yeah, cute, but sort of... in the background. A nerd (but that wasn't a bad thing). Now, though, he was in his element. The moon hitting him just right, his curls messy from his mask. He wasn't afraid of being judged because nobody was around, and he was wearing a suit that made him who he always wanted to be: a hero.

"No way! My apartment is literally right across from yours!" he says, excitement and facial expressions reminding you of a puppy. He pointed his window out, and sure enough, it was just about right across from yours as far as you could tell.

You don't know what to say, so you just smile instead, letting a little laugh out.

"So, uh," you breathe, "I'm not sure exactly what I'm gonna do about the whole Spider-Man's Secrets thing, but I won't expose you."

"Thank you," Peter sighs, voice accompanied with relief and a crooked smile.

"Maybe I can tell everyone that you're just too good. Like, you've got titanium walls all around you."

"Heh, yeah."

He looks over at you and smiles.

+ + +

EPILOGUE - NOTE:: some of the details of this may not make complete sense, nor line up with the plot of the movie in which this takes place. the point still gets across, so please don't make any rude comments lol- i did the best i could!

"I managed to send the Elemental back into the dimensional rift, but I don't think I'm gonna make it off this bridge alive. Spider-Man attacked me for some reason. He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else."

"What the fuck?" you mutter. Peter would never say that.

You gasp at the video. Sure enough, Peter's standing there, confirming a fatal drone attack. Screams ring off in the distance and you practically choke.

"There you have it, folks. Conclusive proof that Spider-Man was responsible for the brutal murder of Mysterio!"

You sneer at the screen, the sight of J.J. Jameson making you angry. That man always got angry over the smallest things. You get on your phone to text Peter but stop. More footage from Mysterio begins playing.

"Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is... Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker," he chokes out.

You jump as Peter's school picture fills your TV screen.

"Holy fucking shit," you mutter, heart racing.

This is not right.

+ + +

He didn't answer you at all. None of your texts, none of your calls. Hell, you almost went over to his apartment, but you didn't remember his new address, since he and May moved after the Blip.

The two of you had become extremely close ever since you'd found out his identity, hanging out whenever you could. It was beyond unlike him to not answer you.

You sprinted into the news room. It was less than 24 hours after Peter had been exposed, and he was everywhere. Social media, news stations; hell, his picture was all over Times Square. And everything they were saying was all wrong.

"Mr. Harrington!"

The man spins around, startled.

"Oh! Good morning, Y/N-"

"I need you to start taping right now. Abe! You know how to hack, right? Broadcast this all over Times Square and every news station you can," you pant. The kid sits up in his seat, brushing Pop Tart crumbs off of his jeans and nodding with a smile.

"What is this all about?" Mr. Harrington asks as he moves over to the camera, cautious.

"You'll see."

You sigh as you sit in your seat, looking over at Abe. It takes a minute, but as soon as he gives a thumbs up, Mr. Harrington hits record.

"Hi. My name is Y/N L/N, and I am a student of Midtown School of Science and Technology, as well as a reporter for our daily announcements and an affiliate of Peter Parker. As I'm sure you all know, it was reported yesterday by the Daily Bugle that Spider-Man's secret identity is a boy named Peter Parker, and that Spider-Man is a so-called 'selfish murderer.' Well, I'm here to tell you that none of this is true. I know, I'm just a highschooler, but having to write several research papers for this school has taught me how to provide a statement with legitimate backup. That's what I'm here to do today.

"Mysterio, who's real name is Quentin Beck, was introduced to the world as a hero, fighting off creatures called Elementals that wrecked havoc throughout Europe. When one of these Elementals reached London, the footage shown yesterday was of Spider-Man and Mysterio on the London Bridge amidst chaos. Not only was that video altered to turn the blame on Spider-Man, but a creature called a Skrull is actually Spider-Man. Upon speaking with the head of SHIELD, I was given information on these creatures- they can shapeshift into whatever they want to be, as long as they've seen the organism before.

"Now, how do I know all this? One: after doing some light research on Quentin Beck, I discovered that he'd been fired from Stark industries in the past for his controlling and manipulative behavior. That'd explain his reasoning and desire for power. Two: upon asking a classmate of mine- who's an absolute prodigy in the field of computer technology and video- to review the given footage, they were able to find two small glitches in the footage that revealed the real video underneath, and further, unmask it completely. Abe, the video should be in your inbox. Pull it up and broadcast it, please."

You let out a deep sigh as you hear typing, then the sound of the real video.

"EDITH, turn off the drones."

The video clip finishes and the camera focus returns to you. "Now, I don't have complete proof on me about the identity claim I've made. But, as soon as the head of SHIELD gets back to me, I can prove it. What you do have confirmed, though, is that Mysterio was the problem. Spider-Man did nothing, other than do what was best for the safety of others. I have all the evidence lined up for you, and it's up to you to believe it. A message for you, Mysterio- if you're still alive- and your affiliates: don't mess with kids from Midtown Tech. We know what Spider-Man stands for, and so does the rest of the world. Trying to mess up his reputation from the grave doesn't help anyone. Sincerely, Y/N L/N and the students of Midtown Tech. As well as Peter Parker, who feels pretty attacked right now for no good reason. Have a great day!"

You smile into the camera before Mr. Harrington turns it off. You hadn't noticed them come in, but everyone on the news team had come into the room, all of them silent, dumbstruck. And then they started clapping.

You give them a tired nod and grin before grabbing your bag, saying hi to MJ and walking out. Thankfully, school hadn't started yet, but students were starting to arrive. You enter the bathroom and stare into the mirror, hoping you didn't just fuck everything up even more.

Your phone buzzes and Peter's contact picture (one of him in Hello Kitty pajamas, sticking his tongue out at the camera) fills your screen. You hurriedly answer.

"Peter! Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Janitors closet, 300 hall. Knock when you're here."

Butterflies flutter through your body as you run through the hallway, ignoring the weird looks from the couple that always shows up early to makeout against the lockers. You find the closet and knock, looking around to make sure nobody could see. The door opens and a hand wraps around your wrist, dragging you inside.

You gasp, balancing yourself, and Peter shuts the door behind you.

His appearance surprises you. He's the face of depression and hopelessness. Dark bags fill the space beneath his eyes, which are red from tears. The look makes you hate the world.

"Are you okay?"

"I am now," he breathes. "the news is buzzing about what you did. They got confirmation from Nick about what you said and, sure enough, every news station is broadcasting your claims with full evidence. Everyone's believing it and apologizing. Thank you."

You smile weakly and wrap your arms around him. "I did what I had to do."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he mutters into the crook of your neck. The scent of your perfume makes him feel all tingly inside, the softness of your skin making him never want to stop holding you. You felt the same way.

"Ditto."

+ + +

akdjxfbavdgkjnwrjk i hope you guys enjoyed !!!!! tbh i'm not sure how to feel about this imagine lol

[wonderland-irwin]

CALM & Synesthesia — Introduction

A few years ago after Youngblood came out, I posted on here a question, and it was rather simple, and it was like “does anyone else see colour when they hear music?” And then I listed a few examples of songs and the colours I saw. Someone actually responded and said no, but that I should search up Synesthesia, because I probably had that.

I was first of all, extremely surprised that no one else saw colours when they heard music. When I reflect back on my relationship with music (music being my one true love), I realize that colours were always there, I just never recognized it until the 2018 release of Youngblood.

Second of all, I was shocked to hear that these colours and what was happening has a name. It’s a real thing. I have a super active imagination, which probably stimulated and woke this part of my brain up and caused me to become more aware of it, but to find out that I wasn’t crazy was a relief as it was shocking.

Synesthesia (which I can never say aloud with it sounding like a sneeze), in basic terms if you don’t know what it is, is sort of labeling things with a colour. A very common form of Synesthesia is words or numbers to colour. I must add here that forms of Synesthesia cross over, so if you have one type, you most likely also have forms of other types. My main form of this is called Chromesethia, which is sound to colour, but the number seven for me is a pale blue, as is the word February.

Synesthesia cannot be forced. It usually happens unwillingly. Personally with Chromesethia, if there’s a lot going on in my brain or in the world, the patterns still occur, however sort of broken up like a shattered piece of a mirror. It affects very little of the population and some people when in drug hallucinations, may also experience forms of Synesthesia.

I have thought for a while about sharing what I see for a while. I’ve tried to do it with words, but when I see patterns and colours, words don’t really do it justice. So with the recent release of the heartbreakingly beautiful, CALM, I figured this would be a great time to explain first how Synesthesia works for me personally, and take you on a hauntingly disturbing tour of the twelve songs, plus whatever deluxe songs arrive, from 5 Seconds of Summer’s CALM.

Before we get into the songs, though, this part, the introduction, is about how Chromesethia is broken down in my brain.

So this form of Synesthesia is sound to colour. We’re going to start with simple notes, as a song writer may, and build from there.

Each note for me, is assigned a colour. I played trumpet in my high school band, an instrument in C, so my B Flat concert scale starts and ends with C. C itself is a gold colour, G is magenta, A is red, B is Blue, F is green, E is brown, D is a dark grey.

Apparently I can’t put the scale in order today, oh my.

Moving on, those colours are pretty much the same colour wherever they are on the staff, although as the sound does get higher (high C for example) the colour quality diminishes slightly, and becomes more of a white space (Think of it like a light blub, where the centre is the brightest, but has the least colour, and as you zoom out, colour slowly occurs).

In regard to flats and sharps, they will be a paler form of the original colour. So for example, F is green. When you think of green, regular green, this green, that is the green of F. F# for example, is a slightly lighter green. I think this is because that it’s not exactly the full version of itself. Does that make sense? It’s not quite F, therefore F# is not quite that shade of green.

It works with flats too. If you told me to play a Gb, I would see a slightly lighter magenta colour. Not completely the brightness and stricking pink of magenta, but pink enough that it is still a G note.

Instruments also have an effect on my brain. If you were to pull out a flute and play a solid tone, and my brain were to focus on the sound of the flute and not the note the flute was playing, it was see pastel purple or pink. The flute is a rather light and airy instrument, and the colours would the reflect on that sound. However, if you were to pick up a tuba and play a note, I would probably see a darker colour, like navy blue.

Voices also have this effect. If I’m paying great attention to a voice, or I specifically like that voice, I will hear a colour (that sounds so weird. I’ll hear a colour). If there are many people in a room and there’s lots of chatter, then I probably won’t see anything because I can’t focus on one specific element. People singing also have an effect. Sometimes it is a shade or two off of their regular voice, it might be the same colour, or a completely different colour.

Since we’re talking CALM;

Ashton: Ashton has a red voice. When he speaks it’s red. Like just your regular crayon red. However when his voice gets soft like in videos where he’s updating us, thanking us, telling us he loves us, his voice goes to a paler red. I wouldn’t say his voice goes pink, which is a paler red, but the red definitely gets lighter and softer.

When Ash is excited or pumped up or performing, his voice goes to a dark red, like a cherry, and black sort of flicks in every once in a while.

His singing voice follows the same pattern as his speaking voice.

The drums, as that is his instrument, are two different colours. His snares, Toms, anything that gives a solid sound is usually shades of light grey. His bass drum gives dark grey vibes (the tuba/flute effect). And the cymbals are that light and airy sound so they’re gold, breaking that white high sound.

Luke: Luke’s voice is all over the place. He is blue when he talks in his normal voice, green when he sings. I should mention that Luke’s, as well as Ashton’s, falsettos are those white space colours as well. Anyways, the blue is sort of the same when ever he speaks, if you want to search up Prismacolour pencils crayons permanent blue, that’s the colour of his voice. Luke’s singing voice is that green and it shows change as movement through squiggles (aside from falsettos). I’ll explain movement in a bit.

Calum: it doesn’t matter what Calum’s doing whether talking or singing, he is either a chocolate brown colour or the colour of honey. I feel like that shows his range. Calum is very soft when he speaks or sings, and those colours to me are soft colours so they make sense as to why they’re Calum’s colours.

The bass is black and surprisingly gold. Deeper sounding instruments are very dark in relation to the colour. However, I think in the case of bass, specifically Cal’s bass, I find the instrument interesting, and I love playing it myself, so maybe that’s why the gold comes through. Sometimes the colour is just there, and I can’t explain it, just gotta accept it.

Michael: Michael is very interesting because his colours are never really the same. When he speaks, sometimes he’s turquoise, sometimes he’s black, sometimes it’s grey, and then the shades varying between those colours, which is super interesting. His singing voice is kind of scratchy looking. If you took a scratch board and a fork and scratched it up, so it was black with white or grey peaking through, that’s his singing voice. Michael’s voice whether singing or speaking is a mystery to me, but also makes complete sense at the same time. 

His guitar, any guitar for that matter, has two different looks in my brain. 

When its a single note, even if I can tell what that note is, it’s gold. It doesn’t matter. It’s a black space with gold dots that are the notes. 

Okay, now the bass is making sense to me, lol.

When chords are playing, it’s more of a gold square with black lines in a grid pattern (like the neck of a guitar).

So guitars are black and gold, I guess.

Synesthesia is something I am still learning about, so here for example, I never made this connection before.

In terms of what songs look like, most times they reflect nothing of the voice or instruments used. With songs it’s more of an overall picture, colours and patterns taken perhaps from mood rather than notes. Sometimes songs have movement, which reflects the pace of the song, and sometimes there is none. In terms of voice, like mentioned with Luke, when I focus on his singing, it’s a green line moving up and down as he sings over top of the overall picture of the song. Sometimes songs have different images as it moves along, but it will usually look the same and the movement most likely changes instead of the picture. Regarding the colours I see, I usually see no more than 5-7 colours, on average, a song has at least 3. The amount of colours is usually an odd number, which I don’t quite understand, but it’s cool.

I think this is all I want to say about what it’s like for me with Chromesthesia. If I remember anything I will add it into other parts, and each part will have the previous parts tagged to it, so you can find the entire album.

If you have any questions, my inboxes are open!

Red Desert will come out once I finish the colouring. Red Desert’s colours are super bright so I need to colour hard and my pencils are dying. I was colouring it to Thin White Lies last night, which hurt when your eyes are looking at Red Desert but your mind is hearing and seeing Thin White Lies. Tell me why I did that. 

OH! Speaking of that, actually, if I see artwork that doesn’t match what my head sees, it will either give me a panic attack or I can’t look at it, because my brain will hurt (a rude side effect that I cannot control). My brain is set in its way and I can’t really change it. This is out of my control. That’s what Synesthesia is.

Lastly, the boys of 5 Seconds of Summer are FANTASTIC at finding a similar, if not the same, colour pallet for their songs that I see. Whether or not any of them have it, I do not know, but I’m glad they’re at least on the same page so my head doesn’t explode when their art comes out.

Okay, NOW I think I’ve said everything. Red Desert will be out soon with a blurb. My inbox is always open for questions! I hope y’all enjoy this thread!

~ becca

P.S if you wanna be tagged in the next parts, I don’t know who’s interested, but let me know!!

[nctzanne]

Bet. Eric (The Boyz) x Reader

Okay so hello everyone! FIRST IMAGINE, ONE-SHOT, WHATEVER IS CALLED FINALLY UP GUUURL. Yes, it took some time and i just feel like i squeezed my brain for this one. I really really hope you like it.

Dont go too harsh on me, remember im just starting and i need to learn more about how to be a better writer. 

So, about this little story, main characters are Eric from The Boyz and you babies, of course.

Warnings: I ALWAYS tend to write Reader like a really cursing person, so if you dont like it, please tell me when you send your requests. 

//SMUT, FLUFF// 

Enjoy!

━━━━━━ ✿  ❀ ━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ✿  ❀ ━━━━━

Everybody knows how you feel when Eric is around you. And you can swear he feels the same way, at least you can tell by how your relationship is with him Always being so soft, holding hands, telling how much you miss eachother. But that is what friends do sometimes, right?

Hwall laughs loudly at that statement, making you blush almost instantly.

-Please tell me if you see me doing that with Sunwoo, and maybe i’ll believe you- He smiles at you, tilting his head to the side- I’ll prove you that he loves you nuts, i will wait for the perfect opportunity-

And so did he. His plan started with a normal conversation in Hyunjae’s place. Eating fried chicken and watching horror movies with your 12 favorite boys seemed a pretty good atmosphere to be closer to Eric. His arms holding you tight enough so you cant move, your head resting on his neck, fitting perfectly. His smell, sweet like cinnamon, is driving you crazy. You move your eyes towards his face, only seeing it from below. He looked so inmersed in the movie, the TV light making his features pop even more, his sharp jawline tensing because of the scary plot, his mouth slightly open makes you lick your lips. You feel little butterflies in your tummy when he starts rubbing your hips with his thumb. Suddenly, clothes become a huge barrier between his skin and yours.

Jacob’s scream makes you wake up from your daydreaming, while Eric jumps due to his friend’s overreaction. You all burst into laugh. He is not a good company when it comes to seeing those kind of movies.

-Hey, dont laugh at me. I dont have anyone to hug me when im scared- He hugs his pillow, you can see him pouting slightly. You giggle, blushing a little when Eric turns to look at you, you could swear that he can see the pink color of your cheeks.

-That’s right!- Hwall grabs this opportunity to start his beautiful mission, making you and Eric see how much you love eachother. - Y/N and Eric are stuck to eachother like they are glued or something- He points at you, and Eric grabs a pillow to throw it at him, letting go a nervous laugh.

-I bet that you can’t be a day without touching eachother- says Changmin without moving his eyes from the TV’s screen. He doesn’t seem to be playing, actually, he looks very serious.

You gasp too loud, and instantly separate your body from Eric’s, making you feel empty.

-Of course we can- Eric says with a playfull voice. He loved to do this, bet and win- We won’t touch eachother today, and if we win, you will buy icecream for the two of us everytime we want this month-

Wow, so that’s it? That’s how easy it was for him to stop having some kind of physical contact with you? You feel a tiny knot in your throat and you try to swallow it.

-Okay, lets do it- Hwall smiles at you and winks.

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

Actually, it was easier than what you thought. Having a good time with Hyunjae and Sunwoo made it all better. While the other ones were playing videogames, the three of you decided to play Jenga.

-Look, look, its going to fall. Im 100% sure- You start doing some mental pressure on Hyunjae, letting go an evil laugh. And you were right.

Sunwoo and you start laughing, throwing your bodies to the floor. Exagerating the situation and seeing Hyunjae’s face makes the moment priceless, and your stomach starts to hurt.

-OKAY, it isnt that big deal. I will eat that chili pepper, BUT YOU CAN’T RECORD IT- Hyunjae says and he walks to the kitchen.

While laughing, you feel a cold finger poking your cheek. You turn around, facing Eric’s little body frame. You can feel how his eyes are checking your whole body, making you shiver. “I’ve never seen Eric looking at me like that, what is wrong?”

-I need to talk to you, just a few seconds. It’s important- His deep voice makes you get up unconsciously from your chair, wanting to grab his hand. But hell no, you just can’t do it. If you lose the bet, it’ll better be by his touch and not yours.

You both walk to the hall that separates Hyunjae’s bedroom from the living room. You gasp too loudly when Eric grabs your wrists with enough strenght to pin you against the wall, making a loud sound. You suddenly become scared that the sound was going to draw the attention of the boys, but you can’t deny that this is giving you an intense and delicious adrenaline

You can see in front of you a whole new Eric, a side of him you’ve never seen. He was looking and you with lust and a pinch of darkness in his eyes, licking his lips. You can compare him to an animal who is about to eat his food, and that food was you.

-I just couldn’t...- Eric is interrumpted by your hands touching the skin covered by his white t-shirt. He shivers, surprised by the courage you had to make the second move. You can feel his constant goosebumps while touching his abdomen, and how his breathing start to become gasps.

You are needy. You need his body close to yours, and now the waiting was killing you. You don’t even care about nothing else but the effects that your hands provoque in Eric’s body.

You can see that he starts to lose his mind, pressing his body harder against yours. You can feel him, the bulge covered by dark brown jeans, almost begging for release. The sudden contact to your stomach makes your pussy start pulsating slowly, feeling your underwear wetter.

-Just kiss me already- you whisper, his face is too close so you can feel his hot breath covering your face. It was in a fast move that he collided his plump lips against yours, without even opening them. It was like a 14 year old’s kiss, on those times when you liked someone but were too innocent to know what kissing was about.

But Eric couldn’t wait any longer, so he slowly started to open his mouth, giving you full access to it. You dont think about it twice and insert your tongue, exploring every corner of his wet cavity, driving you crazy the way he tries to twirl his tongue against yours. You invite him to enter in your mouth and he doesn’t protest, grabbing you lightly by the back of your neck to pull you closer, if it’s even possible.

It didn’t take that long to lose your self-control. But a little side of your brain didn’t want to get caught while making out with Eric.

-Eric, lets go somewhere else- you mumble between the sloppy kisses. He only nods, never breaking the kiss, and pushing you with him towards Hyunjae’s bedroom.

He throws you to the bed, making you fall on your back and bouncing on the mattress as he begins to take out his clothes, not even taking a break. You follow his steps and you can finally feel his skin against yours. This, adding the tongue kisses that he is giving to you in your neck, makes you moan, loudly enough for Eric to listen. He laughs deeply.

-So needy, i like that- it feels like he has changed his voice completely, now is almost like a growl coming out of his throat. You moan again as an agreement.

His hands start to roam all over your body, but skipping all the places you need them to be. You start moving under his touch, desperately trying to get more and more of him.

He understands your intentions and pleases you by kissing your breasts, painfully slow, You arch your back so he can use his whole mouth to make you feel good, and oh my god he knows how to do it. When he bites your left nipple you let go a whimper, that makes him grip your hips tighter and bringing you closer to him.

At the slightest touch of his crotch hidden inside his boxers with you damp underwear, you both sigh and look into eachothers eyes. His sweaty forehead and swollen lips makes you crave him even more, and you give him the signal.

-I just cant wait any longer, please, skip the foreplay. Im ready.- You would be so embarassed if you were lucid enough to hear what you’re saying and how, but fire is burning your weak body and only Eric could make you scape from it, taking you to the clouds.

He rips off your panties, takes his boxers off and without warning, you can feel his dick inside of you, making you bite your lower lip in pain. He groans, resting his head in your chest while you can feel his breath tickling your skin. He is waiting for you to make the first movement so he doesn’t hurt you.

-You feel so fucking tight, Y/N-This makes you tighten even more around his cock, and you feel proud on how his body twirls on response.

When you feel that pleasure takes off all the pain, you begin to rub your hips against Eric’s, making his cock move in circles inside of you. That hits the exact spots you wanted, and you can feel that Eric is enjoying it too.

Between groans, moans, little neck bites and back scratches, he starts pounding on you with no mercy, both of your bodies colliding with eachother making slapping sounds. Oh, everything is so filthy, and it only makes the knot in your stomach grow.

He starts stroking your hair and speaks with an inaudible voice covered by whimpers: -Baby, im coming, please tell me you’re close too-

That nickname doesn’t even let you answer, you just scream his name while collapsing in pleasure, shaking your body and closing your eyes. He chases his own orgasm by watching you fall apart because of him, filling you with his seed and slowing his pace because of the overstimulation.

Now the room is in silence, just the both of you trying to catch some air and looking at eachother without saying a word.

There’s nothing to be said, actually. You just fucked your best friend, and it was the best damn thing that could ever happened. You smile because of your thoughts and he smiles in return, leaving a peck on your lips.

Still inside of you, and realizing the uncomfortable position he was in -in the edge of the bed, almost kneeling on the floor, making his muscles sore- he rests his body by letting it fall against yours, not crushing you of course.

-We just lost the bet- he finally breaks the ice, making you giggle.

-We? You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself- You raise an eyebrow as soon as he looks up at you, with a cocky smile.

-Tell me you didn’t enjoy it. Unless you were screaming my name so i dont forget it and, believe me, I wont- You slap him on his shoulder. Now he seems more Eric than ever, being childish and ruining the best moments.

You stroke his blonde and sweaty hair, forgetting about everything that is going on outside. On how the guys are still watching the movie and the problematic situation that you are into because you decided to fuck in Hyunjae’s bed.

-You don’t know how much i wanted to make you mine, T/N- Eric makes you wake up from your thoughts, blushing instantly.

-I’ve always been yours, Eric. You were just to blind to see it-

Eric answers you by pnly kissing your cheek and smiling like an idiot. Your idiot

And, now you just can admit that you lost the bet. But icecream will never be as sweet as Eric’s lips.

[tickletastic]

Practical Joker

Fandom: Little Fires Everywhere

Ship: mentions of Trip/Pearl

Summary: Pearl is once again spending a lazy afternoon with the Richardson children, but the afternoon is much less calm when Lexie comes home, angry about a prank that Moody pulled on her.

Notes: I know that the mini-series has already been cast, but I already had an idea in my head of what all of the characters looked like before that, so please excuse the fact that my character description don’t match the cast!

“I’m thirsty,” Trip complained, his eyes staring hard at Moody even though his younger brother wasn’t looking back at him. 

“No way,” Moody could still feel the eyes on him, even if he wasn’t looking, “you have legs, get a drink yourself.”

Despite the fact that they’re only a year apart, for nearly his whole childhood Moody looked up to Trip. If Trip asked Moody to do something, he would do it right away and enthusiastically. It got to the point where Trip could just send Moody a look, and like a golden retriever, Moody would be there. That didn’t mean that they never fought, because they certainly did that, and a lot of it for that matter, but temporary dislike could never translate to hate for Moody. 

As Moody reached  his teenage angst years, the look became much less effective. Moody still loved his brother, and he still admired him, but he no longer idolized him like he used to. Sometimes, Moody would still give into Trip’s look, which had morphed over the years from one of gratitude to puppy-dog eyes. Other times, Moody would outright reject the idea of doing something for his brother that Trip could easily do himself. 

Pearl was completely confused when Moody had started a conversation completely unprompted, but she had learned over time that some things between the Richardson kids are better left unasked about. 

There was a surprisingly boring episode of the Jerry Springer Show today, so none of them had really been paying attention. The episode suddenly became much more interesting when Moody realized that Trip was trying to guilt him into getting him a drink.

Lexie stormed in suddenly, she had told Trip earlier that she was gonna have to skip their TV session because she had to study with Brian. She looked angry when she bursted through the door, and the look on her face forced a stream of giggles from Moody’s lips. 

“What’s so funny, you little shit? I’m going to actually kill you,” Lexie spoke, sounding much calmer than she looked. She produced a pile from her backpack, it seemed to be a bunch of fake cockroaches, she continued to dig and produced a container, opening it to reveal its contents. “What? You think it’s funny to put toy roaches in my bag? You thought it was funny to replace my lunch with clay?”

Pearl had to cover her mouth to stop her own laughter as she glanced in the container. There was a sandwich shaped creation made out of playdough, as well as shapes of lettuce, tomatoes, and onions arranged like a salad. 

Trip wasn’t nearly as kind, and he burst out laughing, grabbing the container from Lexie’s hand. He snapped a picture, texting it to Izzy, who was at band rehearsal. When he looked up from his phone he held up his hand for a high-five from Moody, “That was a good one Mood-”

Trip stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the murderous look in Lexie’s eyes- he knew what that meant. “I mean, that’s totally not cool dude.”

Lexie started to approach Moody, who started climbing over the back of the couch, standing on the other side of it once he finished. He held his hands out in front of him, shaking his head back and forth. “Hey Lexie, I’m sorry.”

Lexie wasn’t convinced, her youngest brother could barely get through his apology without giggling softly. “You have nowhere to go, Moody. You might as well surrender now. We both know that the longer you avoid it the worse my revenge will be.”

The thought made Moody shudder. He had once avoided his sister for three entire weeks in hopes that she would forget about what he had done. It made it way worse, one thousand times worse. Their mom had forced the four of them to go see a movie at the theatre together, Lexie made sure to sit next to him, and her fingers were torturing him from the trailers to the end credits. It was one of the most torturous things he had even gone through. If he thinks about it enough he can still feel her torturous fingers tickling his tummy as if he were still in the theatre watching Man Of Steel. 

He looked around the room, viewing all possible exits. He could go through the window. Would that be crazy? Is it still snowing outside? He could run into the kitchen, but where would he go from there? He knew that the only place where he could guarantee a lock and safety for an unknown amount of time was his bedroom. He would need to go through the archway and up the stairs, which would be risky for sure. 

He bolted for it, running through the exit only to be grabbed by the hood and thrown over someone’s shoulder. He knew it wasn’t Lexie, although she was pretty strong she definitely could not pick up a sixteen-year-old on her own. Moody tried to bring his head up, struggling in the grip of the person carrying him in hopes to flee. 

When Moody finally managed to look up, his brown curls falling in his face, he was met with a face full of short, blond hair. It was short blond hair that belonged to Trip. 

“You’re a traitor! Let me down, dumbass!” Moody screamed, trying to hit his brother. 

“You should’ve just gotten me some juice, buddy.” Trip didn’t bother lowering Moody softly, he threw his younger brother’s body onto the couch like a ragdoll. Moody had always despised the fact that Trip was so much stronger than him, despite the fact that there was only a year between them. 

Moody tried to scramble off of the couch, but Trip quickly pinned his arms above his head. Moody was really starting to panic, he squirmed and pulled hard. He tried to use his hands to his Trip, or pinch his skin, but his brother didn’t let up. When he finally looked at Lexie again, he could feel nothing but fear. He started begging her to stay away from him, he asked Pearl to help him escape, but nothing worked. 

When he felt Lexie’s fingers dance over his ribs, his entire body went cold, and he clamped his mouth shut, biting his lip. Lexie wasn’t worried, Moody could never last more than twenty seconds or so. 

“I know you’re not sorry right now, Moods, but I’m going to make you sorry,” Lexie taunted before speeding up her fingers.

Moody’s giggles were loud and bubbly, Pearl believes that his laugh could be one of the most adorable sounds to exist. Although she hadn’t enjoyed Moody’s phase of anger towards her and Trip for dating, she was glad that they were finally back to being best friends, not only because of his adorable laugh, but that was definitely a plus. 

Moody wanted to hit himself, he hated how vulnerable he was to this, and he genuinely could not handle tickling most of the time. As a little kid, as embarrassing as it is to admit, his siblings rarely had pity, and it wasn’t rare that he would pee himself and get his siblings in trouble for it. He grew to control his bladder, but he still couldn’t completely control the way that the touches made him feel.

“I’m alreheheady s-sohorehehe! Stop! Lehehex, I cahahahan’t!” Moody squealed, his body twitching sporadically in a way that he couldn’t control. Lexie’s fingers were scribbling up and down Moody’s ribs, drilling in between them, and scratching along them horizontally. Moody’s head was thrown back, and he was shaking it back and forth just like how he had before he had ran from Lexie. 

Pearl hadn’t known that Moody was so ticklish. She had accidentally tickled him during hugs and when the five of them ended up arranged in a big heap on the couch, but she had never thought he was this bad. Moody was close to hysterics and Lexie had barely even started all that she had planned.

Moody’s brain was everywhere except on escape measures, every second that he was getting tickled was torture to him, especially by Lexie. When she started her teasing, he knew that he was doomed. 

“Aww, what’s wong Moody? Is someone a wittle ticklwish? Is Mister Giggles making another appearance?” Lexie spoke in that evil, condescending voice that always drove Moody crazy. He had always hated being babied, and this voice amplified that, it also somehow amplified the feeling of her fingers. 

Lexie had moved from Moody’s ribs up to his collarbones, tracing the bones and even laying some raspberries on his skin there. He tried to clamp his chin down to avoid the feeling, but that forced Trip to hold Moody’s head up by his chin, wiggling his fingers underneath it as well as over the shells of his ears. 

“Fu-Ah! Fuhuhuhuck you Trihihip! Yohohou are so dehehead!” Moody squealed loudly. The spot where his jaw met his neck had always been a pretty bad spot, and Trip’s fingers had wiggled over it. “Please stop!”

Lexie clicked her teeth, shaking her head back and forth in mock sadness. “Uh-uh-uh, no can do. Sorry baby brother, but I believe that you have a lesson to learn, there’s no stopping yet.” 

Lexie’s fingers quickly darted down to Moody’s tummy, and his scream was glass-shattering, but Lexie just laughed in response before moving down to his thighs and pinching at them, spidering her fingers over his knees too. “Don’t worry, I’ll save the best for last.” 

Trip was starting to get a little twitchy. He always needs something to fidget with, and watching his older sister tickle their brother was kind of making him squirm. He’s been in the same position before, it’s always a nightmare. He hadn’t even realized that his fingers had started to dig into both of Moody’s armpits until his younger brother was loudly cursing his name. 

Lexie looked back at Trip, noticing what he was doing, and thanking Trip for helping him. Trip knew this would probably be bad news for him later on, but he would much rather take the revenge from Moody instead of Lexie. Plus, he kind of didn’t mind being tickled if he was being honest.

While Trip contemplated internally, Moody was convinced that he was entering the worst layer of hell. Lexie was still tickling his legs, but she was making her way down towards his feet. Moody suddenly really wished that he had kept his shoes on when he had entered. When Lexie’s fingers started scratching under his toes, he desperately tried to kick out, he needed to escape, he felt like he was going crazy. 

Lexie noticed, and Moody had always been known as the sibling with the worst reactions to tickling, so she knew that she needed to end it soon, she didn’t want him to pass out after all. Moody’s laughter was peppered with snorts as she continued. His feet had always been pretty sensitive, easily his second worst spot after his tummy. 

Lexie quickly spidered her fingers up and started to scrub at Moody’s tummy, laying a raspberry every 30 seconds or so. Moody’s laughter came and went, squealing everytime Lexie placed a raspberry on his tummy, and falling into hiccupy, silent laughter afterwards.

Trip stopped and looked up at their older sister when he heard Moody’s hysterics. “Lex, I think he’s nearly at the end of his rope.” 

Lexie nodded, agreeing, knowing that Moody’s eyes were shut too tight to see her motion. “Are you sorry, Moody? Were your pranks as funny as this?”

Moody tried his best to answer, but he could barely breathe, he was wheezing and his chest was starting to hurt, but he knew that Lexie knew that, she was good at not taking things too far usually. 

“I’m- I’m sohohohorehehehe!” Moody squealed when he finally did acquire air.

Lexie stopped, backing off and shooing Trip off of Moody’s wrists. Moody curled into a ball, trying to breathe through his hiccups and residual laughter. Pearl scooted towards him, rubbing his back soothingly. Moody initially jumped away from the touch, whimpering slightly, until he noticed that it was Pearl, and not either of his evil siblings. He melted into her touch, and he desperately tried to calm down. 

When he finally had air and he was no longer panting, he stayed curled up, holding his knees to his chest. His breath started to slow, his siblings knew that crazy tickling usually made him really tired, but before his eyes finally shut, he looked up, glaring towards Lexie and Trip.

“You both better sleep with one eye open.”

[azaraspirit]

Kidnapped P1

this is a submission for @starksparker ‘s writing challenge!!!! i chose mob! tom cause its one of my fave aus. i loved this so much i decided to make a part two! i hope you like it as much as i do!!!

@keepingupwiththeparkers @mcuspidey @petersboyfriendsonofthor @spiderboytotherescue @spideypeach

word count: 2012

warnings: kidnapping, mild violence, language, character death, angst and fluff, hurt/comfort.

*

A familiar voice woke you up from your gaze, your eyes fluttering open. You groaned, feeling the drug that was poisoning your veins. This wasn’t the first time. Being a girlfriend to the top mobster of Queens you tend to have a knack for being a target for every other mobster in town. You knew someone knocked you out. You just didn’t know who. Not till now anyways.

“Sleeping Beauty is awake.” the familiar voice cooed with venom. “And I didn’t even get to kiss her. What a shame.”

Your vision was hazy as you tried to blink into focus. The room was dark, a single light hanging from the ceiling. It smelled moldy and musty like a basement or an old building. You swore you were hearing Harrison. But the tone of his voice...it couldn’t be him.

“...Haz?”

“Yup. It’s me, sweetheart.”

“W-what…” You could barely form words, the drug still in effect.

“You really think I forgot about what you did to me?”

You tried to speak but it was hard.

“You date me once then good old Tommy comes along and you forget about me?”

“What…”

Slowly the memory formed in your brain. You met Harrison first and went on a coffee date with him. It went great but then the following week you met Tom and he became your new crush. But you had no idea Harrison was so bitter about it. That was two years ago. You were still friends and supported you and Tom or so you thought...

You tried to speak but Haz cut you off. “Don’t even bother to apologize!” he spat, his saliva splattering your face. “I was crazy about you and you stab me in the back to date my best friend instead?”

The drug seemed to be wearing off. You could move your jaw and not feel as drained. You tugged wrists against the ropes. You held your head up to look at Haz, your vision coming into focus. “Haz…it wasn’t on purpose. It just happened.”

He scoffed. “Don’t give me that bullshit!”

“You kidnapped me. For revenge, didn’t you?” you asked.

Haz smirked, chuckling. “Been planning it awhile.”

“Why?”

“So Tom knows what it feels like to lose something he loves.” Haz pulled out a blade from his back, your eyes widening. Haz was specialized in blades and knife throwing which is why Tom had him on his side. But mostly because they were friends. Or so you thought.

You shrugged, your arms just slightly moving since your wrists were tied together. “So what? These last two years were a lie?”

“Good huh? I should be an actor. Can’t tell you how many times I thought of killing both of you.” Harrison’s voice was laced with malice. He wasn’t the same boy you knew two years ago.

“Haz...this is crazy.”

“No!” he shouted, suddenly rushing up on you, his hands gripping the wooden chair he had you in. “What’s crazy is having your girl stolen by his best friend!”

“But you did the same thing by kidnapping me.” you pointed out.

“To prove a point.”

You sighed. Haz was crazy. There was no sense in reasoning with a crazy person. You were done playing nice. “You’re a crazy ass bitch.” You spat in his face.

Haz slapped you across the face, hard. You experienced it before with previous kidnappings but this one stung the worst considering he was someone you knew. Someone who was your friend.

“You bitch.” he cursed.

“I’m glad I chose Tom. At least he doesn’t kidnap me and tie me to chairs.” Unless it’s with consent. You thought silently, almost chuckling. That was a fun night.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“Just thinking of how pissed Tom will be when he gets here. He’s the king for a reason.”

“Please. He’s a punk ass bitch. He won’t kill me.”

“Think again.” You both look back to see Tom standing there, a gun in hand. “Don’t make me shoot you, Haz. You know I will. Just let her go.”

“Please. That’s not gonna happen.”

“Haz.” Tom’s voice was stern and serious. You knew only two of you were getting out of this alive.

“And you know I won’t miss.” Haz said, his knife raised.

“This bullet will reach you before that knife does.”

“Who said I was gonna stab you?”

Tom froze, his eyes widened. He never thought he would hurt you.

“Yeah. You didn’t think that did you? I’ve been planning this for months now, Tom. I’m three steps ahead of you.”

“You don’t want to hurt her.” Tom said.

“Yeah, I think I do.” Haz countered, stepping closer.

Tom took another step, cocking his gun. “Don’t.”

You felt utterly helpless as you sat tied to the chair. You wanted to help, to distract Haz, but you both knew how good he was with a knife. An idea clicked in your head, your eyes flickering up to the light above you. “Too bad you can’t see in the dark.” you commented.

Tom instantly understood your comment and he raised his gun to shoot the light. It popped and glass shattered down on you, your eyes shut. You were too stunned to move as you heard both men grunting in a struggle. Tom’s gun went off. Your heart raced. “Tommy? Tommy?”

You heard a familiar huff, and scraping of the ground. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” You sighed in relief, hearing Tom’s voice but it sounded off. He grunted as he carried you out of the room. He led you into a hallway; you were in an old factory. Your eyes closed as the sun shone down on you.

Tom sat you down and untied you, picking at the pieces of glass from your hair and shoulders. The second your hands were free, you framed his face. “You okay?”

“Haz stabbed me in the shoulder but I’ll live. Him? Not so much.” He leaned into your touch, sighing.

“Can’t believe he did this...I thought he was a friend…”

“I can’t believe it either. If it wasn’t dark...if I saw his face...I probably wouldn’t have been able to shoot him.”

He looked up at you with watery eyes. He was knelt in front of you, you still in the chair. Your lips quivered. “You had to, Tom. It was self defense.”

“I know…” He gripped your hand, closing his eyes, a tear trickling down his cheek. He could never show emotion, show weakness when he was working. If the world knew how truly caring and fragile he was, his throne would be swept from beneath him. It would be deadly.

You gently stroked his face, pecking him lightly on the lips. “Let’s get you home, Tommy. I need to treat that wound.”

*

The ride home was quiet. You entered the mansion, helping Tom. This wasn’t the first time he’s been injured. You could remove a bullet or patch a wound and stitch him up in your sleep. If you went to the hospital, then word would get out that he was weak and all hell would break loose.

Tom winced as he removed his clothes. You had to admit you were turned on a bit watching him undress even if he was in pain. Get your head out of the gutter, woman. This was no time to have an orgasm.

You inspected the wound, pushing your honey thoughts aside. “Well he didn’t hit anything important, that’s good.”

“Thanks to you. That was a genius with the light.” He chuckled.

You smirked. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” His tone turned serious, his hand resting on yours, giving it a light squeeze. Your eyes met his, and you frowned.

“Then why do I feel so guilty? He was right. I left him for you.”

“C’mere.” He put your tools down to pull you close to him. He was sitting on a table, pulling you between his legs. “It wasn’t. Your. Fault.” He paused. “Haz is just crazy. He’s obsessive.”

You caressed his neck, pressing your foreheads together, sighing. “Still I chose you instead of him.”

“Yeah because we’re right for each other. You’re my girl.” He tucked his finger under your chin, showing you his little smirk.

“I still can’t believe he did that…” you frowned.

“I know…” Tom sighed. “But...I’d be damned if I let him hurt you. More than he already has.” He stroked his thumb along your cheek, a bruise forming where he slapped you. “Does it hurt?”

“Like a bitch. But mostly because it was from him…”

“Put some ice on it. It’ll heal.”

“I think your stab wound is more important than my bruise.” you chuckled.

“Right.”

If it weren’t for your idea with the light, Tom would have been dead and both of you knew that. Haz stabbed him in the shoulder but it wasn’t very deep, thank god. It was a rather easy wound to fix. A storm was starting outside. Lightning lit up the room through the four large windows that stood as tall as the room.

“You okay?” you asked.

“The wound or what happened back there?” he asked.

“Both.”

He held your hands, stroking them with his thumbs. “I feel like crap. He was my best friend...crazy...but he was my friend…” You wrapped your arms around him as he cried into your chest, your fingers playing with his hair.

Tom was a tough son of a bitch, but you knew the relationship he had with Haz meant the world to him. Being a king mobster meant a lot of things but he was still human.

“You’re bleeding.” Tom said, noticing some glass scratched you in a few places. “Let me take care of that.” He already started to remove the glass before you protested. You winced as he plucked a shard from your brow over your left eye. He used a damp to gently wash away the blood. You sighed, feeling loved and cared for. Tom finished up your scratches, putting a small band aid on most of them. He squeezed your thigh. “There. Good as new.”

Your eyes met and shared a smile.

“It’s okay, baby. Shhh.” you cooed, kissing his forehead. “Let’s get to bed.”

You let Tom put his weight on you as you led him to the bedroom. You helped get him comfortable, the storm still echoing outside. Tom faced you, his eyes red and glassy. Your noses almost touched. You kissed his lips gently, his hand on your cheek.

“I want to give him a funeral.” he spoke, his voice strained.

“That would be lovely.” Your voice was gentle.

“I owe him that much.” Tom sniffed and kissed your palm.

You scooted closer to him, Tom fully embracing your affection. “We can plan that tomorrow. For now, just sleep.” You kissed his temple again. His breathing evened out and the tears stopped. You played with his curls repeatedly, something he loved. You giggled, hearing his snores. He was a king mobster who has done some crazy things but snoring was something he swore he didn’t do. You let it slide so it wouldn’t hurt his tough persona because what mobster snores? It was your little secret. Not even Haz knew.

You thought of what Tom has said, about him being crazy and it all came together. You were certain Haz had some unhealthy obsession with you and knives and sharp objects in general. Not a good combination. You swore you felt like you were being watched sometimes and now that feeling was gone. Was that Haz? Was that feeling because of Haz as he stalked you? Planning your kidnapping and murder of Tom?

You shuddered, shaking your head. He was dead. There was nothing he could do now to hurt you or Tom. “We’re safe now, Tommy.” you whispered, kissing his nose. You let your breathing match his, his heartbeat acting as a lullaby that lulled you to sleep. For the first time in a long time, the both of you can truly get some sleep.

[insanusnavicularis]

Purring - An Irondad fanfiction

Peter and Tony were having a lazy day- Not really, they just came out of the lab after six hours straight only eating the junk food that Tony kept there and was probably a bit rotten, so they weren't having a lazy day, they were having a much needed and earned rest.

Peter was sprawled all over the couch, occupying all of its surface, with his head using one of the arms of the couch as a pillow and his feet crossed over his mentor's lap, who was in the other end of the couch, his hands on the kid's shins.

They were watching Divergent in the TV and boxes of pizza were lying in the floor, both of them with an unfinished ice cream in hands.

The scene looked like the ones you see in the advertisements of soaps in the TV, it was so domestic and just... nice and comfy. They were set in a comfortable silence, Tony sometimes squeezing Peter's shin or the kid making a comment here or there about the movie.

If someone who didn't know them entered, they sure would have asked when Tony Stark got a son; the thing is that Tony himself didn't even know, he just knew that after The Vulture thing he had invited Peter over one time and now, boom! They were all domestic and familiar- not that he was going to complain though- it was a nice feeling, having someone who he knew he could trust and that he knew wasn't with him just because he was Tony Stark- of course that had influenced a bit at first, but now they were way past the idol worshipping thing-

Peter got up from the couch to put his empty bowl of ice cream in the dishwasher, sitting besides Tony when he got back, the man putting an arm around him and smiling affectionately at his kid.

"Uh- Too young to see this" Tony teased, putting a hand over Peter's eyes when the two protagonists started to kiss roughly.

Peter laughed, shaking his head to get ride of his mentor- father figure- hands "I'm a big boy!" he protested pouting, sounding as childish as he could.

The billionaire rolled his eyes as he smiled, getting his hand off Peter's face and continuing to see the movie "Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Spider-Baby"

"I'm not a Spider-Baby, I'm a Super-Cool-And- Strong-Spider-Man" the kid said in a deep voice, but his furrowed eyebrows and the pout in his mouth made him look too mucho like a puppy. Tony laughed, bringing the kid closer; god, he loved this kid.

"Sure, Spider-Baby, whatever"

Peter rolled his eyes and feigned annoyance, but the way he leaned into Tony's side and how his eyes sparkled gave him away and how much he really liked spending time with his mentor and their little teasing, he wouldn't change it for the world.

Halfway through the second movie Peter yawned and Tony felt the weight in his side more prominent, looking down at the kid in his chest, he smiled despite himself.

The way Peter's eyelids seemed heavier and how he curled himself into Tony, latching his fist in the billionaire's shirt, made the man's eyes soften a bit, and he gave the kid one gentle squeeze.

"Hey, why don't we head to bed, kiddo?" Tony murmured softly to not disturb Peter's sleepy state.

"Don't wanna" the kid complained "I'm comfy here"

"Okay, then, another movie? And what about a blanket, you must be freezing" Tony’s soft tone didn't change as he ran his hands up and down the kid's bare arms to provide him with some sort of warm.

Peter nodded and almost fell limply to the couch when suddenly his human pillow moved to stand, but his Tony caught him first and leaned him into the back of the couch.

Not so long after, or long after, Peter wasn't sure in his sleepy state, Tony came back with a bunch of blankets in hands. He began to wrap his kid in a cocoon of blankets, but Peter stopped him, his mind a little messed up because of sleep.

"No" he said, getting the blankets off himself and shoving them into Tony's chest.

"What?"

"You too" Peter mumbled with a frown "You have to be warm, too"

The billionaire looked at him, surprised, before trying to explain that he didn't need to be warmer, just for Peter to say that he didn't either, and then Tony wrapped them both in a blanket, giving up as his kid leaned into his chest. What did he do to deserve this kid? He didn’t know, but he thanked whoever was listening for giving him the chance to meet Peter.

"Mhm- Comfy" Peter murmured against his chest. He felt warm and relaxed and safe in Tony's arm, the reactor's soft buzz and his father figure's breath dulling him, the hand in Peter's hair a constant reminder of the presence besides him.

"What do you wanna watch, Underoos?" Tony asked, although Peter's eyes were half closed and his concentration was probably the same as a fish's in the moment.

"Uhhh- Frozen?" the kid asked tiredly, not processing much information. Tony looked at him amused before telling FRIDAY to put it on.

The billionaire started to pull softly at the knots on the kid's hair, scratching softly at his scalp and trying to dull him to sleep, knowing that the kid had a rough week with the exams at his school. He hummed a little as he watched his kid's face slowly relax.

And Peter was so relaxed and happy in that moment that his brain wasn't functioning correctly. He hadn't been so relaxed in what felt like ages, going to sleep when he felt like it and not when he finished studying eleven sheets worth of resumes of a subject he didn't like or cared about.

He felt so safe and happy with his dad at his side- that sounded off, why? Oh! Tony wasn't his dad really, he was his mentor, but it was like the same thing, right?-. He moved closer to the man, hiding his face in the crook of Tony's neck and sighing softly.

Peter didn't know why he let himself do what he did, maybe because he was too asleep to think clearly, but he did, and that ended with him wide awake and blushing like crazy between his mentor’s arms.

He purred.

Like an actual purr, as if he was a freaking cat, and the worst part? He didn't stop there, it took Tony to notice it and give him a strange look- which held also alarm and concern- for him to notice what he was doing.

"Uhh- Pete?" Tony asked, a little alarmed because his kid was making a strange purr which no human would be able to copy.

The man felt Peter tense at his side and straight himself with a jolt, seeming wide awake and as red as a strawberry.

Oh god- Why did he do that? Peter asked himself. Why did he have to screw this up so badly?! It was all going great and then his super weird mutations had to slip in and ruin everything. Now Tony was going to thought that he was a weirdo or a freak, because honestly, who the heck purrs? God, he was going to die of embarrassment, he was sure.

"Uhhh- I- Wh-" he stuttered only to finally get out a strange noise that only resembled words in the bare minimum. Good, keep screwing this up, Peter, as he internally face palmed.

"Ok, I didn't understand anything" Tony declared before softening his voice "Can you please repeat it? Clearer, kiddo?"

"Uhh- What?"

"You were... vibrating...? Are you okay, kid?"

Tony put a hand to the kid's chest to try to feel it again, but nothing happened, he just felt the rapid beating of his kid's heart.

"Uh- Y- Yep. Every- Everything's good, Mr. Stark, don't worry, you probably imagined it" Peter tried that, maybe Tony had been as asleep as himself in the moment and believed his lie.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't, Pete" his father figure replied and Peter prepared himself mentally for the conversation that was about to come, it sure would be embarrassing.

He sighed "Okay" Peter began as he started to search in his brain to how exactly he was going to start this odd conversation "I- Well- I mean... Like, after the... the bite- the spider bite, when I got my powers-, I sometimes would just randomly... like, purr? As cats? And- And then I started to do some... research, and I found out that a lot of spiders made sounds, and some of them purr just like cats and I think that, maybe, it's a side effect from the bite? That the spider was of the species who purred? I know it's super strange and everything but-"

Tony cut him off for the kid's sake, trying to wrap his head around this new information about his kid- He felt a little hurt that Peter was only mentioning it now, when he thought he knew everything about him and that the kid told him everything, but he also knew that, knowing his kid, this must be super embarrassing for him, so he just decided to let it go, it didn't seem that important either.

"Wait- So you can purr? Like a cat?" he asked dumbfounded, but Tony couldn't bring himself to be weirded out because, he was going to admit, it was a bit adorable; the thought of his kid purring was just as strange and amusing as it was adorable and cute. And god knows the kid has done way weirder things than this.

"Um- Yeah? Unless you think it's creepy- which you probably think and I wouldn't blame you- in that case, would you believe me if I told you you imagined it all?"

Tony laughed a little "I think it's too late for that excuse, kiddo" he ruffled his hair with affection "But I don't think it's creepy, strange? I'm not going to lie, a little, but I have seen things a whole lot stranger than this"

"So..." Peter wanted to ask what was his opinion in all of this "You aren't totally creeped out and don't want me anymore?"

"What?! Gosh- Where did you even got that idea form? Of course I won't stop lov-" he cut himself before he could say the word and make things awkward "I won't leave you just because of this, Peter!" Tony exclaimed a little offended that Peter thought that little of him.

Peter was one of the few good things that happened in his life, he wasn't going to just stop loving this kid just because he purred, it wasn't something bad, a little odd, but not bad.

"Sorry" Peter looked down, ashamed "It won't happen again, I promise"

Tony shook his head rapidly "Don't be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. And, being honest, I don't mind, it's kind of adorable: a Spider-Baby that purrs, I can live with that"

"Oh, god" Peter put his head in his hands, but Tony was still able to see the reddening of his ears and neck.

Tony laughed before patting Peter’s head lightly.

"Really, though, I don't mind"

His kid looked up at him with red cheeks and confessed "I always hide this because then they'll think I'm weird and a freak. At first it was hard- trying to suppress the urge to purr when something I liked happened- but it became easier and easier and then I wouldn't do it, but I was just so comfy and tired and I didn't realize I was doing it until it was too late" he rambled, feeling the shame fill his body.

Tony smiled "I like you for you, for who you are, Peter. Everything, form the ramblings, to the climbing buildings thing, to the purring. Every single thing. I'm not leaving" his father figure reassured and then scrunched his nose "Gosh- That sounded so cheesy"

Peter giggled and that only helped to made him even redder "Thank you, Mr. Stark”

"It was nothing, but seriously, I don't want you to feel like you have to hide- with me at least-, promise me you won't anymore"

"I promise" his kid mumbled, embarrassed.

"Good" Tony clapped his hands before saying "Well, I think we were somewhere after all of this"

"I don't want to sleep anymore, I'm not tired" the kid whined, well aware he sounded like a child but not caring at the moment.

"Oh? But you see, I'm gonna tell you a little secret: Spider-Babies needs their sleep, and it's already 2 am" Tony said dramatically, earning an eye roll form his kid.

"Mr. Stark"

"Nope, c'mere and sleep" he extended his arm out and Peter leaned in his father figure chest with a smile, watching the end of Frozen.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark" he said against Tony's shirt.

"For what, Underoos?" the man started to play with his kid's hair fondly.

"Everything"

"My pleasure"

After another movie Tony had a purring and asleep child above his chest, the kid's face tucked in his neck and Tony making soothing circles in his back with one hand.

He looked down at Peter, feeling greatly content that he trusted him enough to let himself purr and be himself around Tony.

Tony kissed the kid's hair "I love you, kiddo, don't change ever" he mumbled against his curls.

Then, he let himself be dulled to sleep by the soft vibration coming form the kid and the voices of the TV.

It was one of the few days in which he slept in.

———————————————————————

After that time it had become more and more normal for Peter to purr- only in Tony's presence-, and he had to admit it was nice having someone to trust enough to be himself and not worrying about him judging or being weirder out by him.

Every time he felt too content or relaxed he would start purring unconsciously and, when he realized what he was doing, he didn't stop.

Right now, he was actually in the vents, the rest of the- now pardoned- Avengers had moved back into the tower with Tony, and you could say that with him too as he was practically living there half his time when he wasn't at his apartment with May; point was, he still didn't feel very comfortable with them around, and they didn't know his identity either so he didn't want to risk it. The only interactions they had were when Tony introduced him to them as his intern and some casual ones when he would cross paths with one of them; so that was why he was in the vents.

That was, until he heard a conversation in one of the rooms he was passing, he crouched back and sat there quietly, trying to hear what they were saying.

He knew it was wrong, but in his defense, he has never done this before, just that he heard his name, and he wanted to know what the Avengers could be talking about him, more when he was trying to stay low.

It sounded like a discussion.

"-y, tell me the truth" it was... Natasha, he realized when he remembered that Wanda wasn't in the tower right now and it was clearly a female.

"I already told you! But you aren't listening: he's my intern" now it was the very well known voice of his mentor, he'd recognize it anywhere.

So, Natasha was questioning him and their story, maybe she even had some suspicions about him being Spiderman, he wouldn't be surprised as she was a trained spy and he was a terrible liar.

"That's not the truth and we both know it"

"Well, too bad, because that is and I'm not discussing my intern anymore" he heard steps and then Natasha's voice once again.

"Okay, sorry, don't go" before she admitted "But you can't blame me, it's very strange of you to have a teenage intern when you almost don't have any adult ones, and the relationship you have with him? That's not just some intern shit" he flushed at that, he knew he had a very good relationship with his father figure, but hearing someone else say it was nice, like a someone reassuring him that it wasn't just in his head.

"He's very special" Peter could hear the smile on Tony's words and he beamed, feeling warm and giddy.

"I know, I have seen him" she agreed and this time he blushed excitedly, the Black Widow was talking about him! How cool was that? "I just... can I ask you something? I haven't been able to find out on my own. I must warn you, it's personal"

"Go ahead, then I'll decide if I answer or not"

"Is he your son?" she blurted and Tony choked, like he actually heard his father figure choking.

"Excuse- What- I- Wh- Just- What?!" Tony sputtered and Peter knew that he had to be very shocked to act that way, not everyone was able to leave Tony Stark at speechless.

He frowned. Was Tony really that upset about someone suggesting he was his son? He knew it wasn't the case and it felt a little awkward, but was it really that bad? Peter even had started to think of him as his father figure, but without the 'figure' part- like his actual dad-

A naive part of him had thought that maybe Tony had started to think of him that way too- more like a son than a mentee- but it seemed like that wasn't the case, and the realization hit him hard in the face, making his guts churn and a strange and uncomfortable feeling set in his chest. He scolded himself for being that childish.

He didn't move, wanting to know what he was to his father figure- if he even answered the question-

"So... he isn't" Natasha confirmed "Sorry"

"But- Wait, why did you thought that?" Tony sounded dumbfounded and shocked.

He heard steps, light ones, female ones "Just how you act around each other, even in the short time that I saw you two together I could tell you are pretty close"

"Yeah... you could say so" his voice was soft and fond "But he isn't my son, and don't you dare bring up the subject when he's around, I'm not the kind of dad the kid wants"

‘Yes, you are’ Peter wanted to shout.

"So, what's up with him then?" she asked as the footsteps ceased.

"Well, he's really special. You should know him, he's very intelligent- he can keep up with me in the lab and always has great ideas-, he's super kind and is always trying to help in one way or another and cares a lot about the people around him, he's everything I wasn't at his age and that's why I wan him to do better, he's already better, but he still has a lot to learn and I want to be the person teaching him”

Peter couldn't move, too stunned with Tony's revelation to do something more than smile like the Cheshire Cat. Tony meant that? He felt his throat tightening.

"You care a lot about the kid"

"Yeah, like he's mine" Tony stopped abruptly and there were a few seconds of silence in which he didn't know what was happening.

He then heard Tony cursing at making that revelation "It's nothing bad, you care, Tony, that's all. Tell me more about him" Natasha told him.

"Well, he does really well in school and is always talking about something, he couldn't be quite for his life... he- I really care about him, Nat, a lot, and I just know that someday he'll change the world, because he's so good, and I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him... God, is this what parents feel like? How can they handle it all their life? I don't want to screw this up, because I really like him and I care a whole lot about this kid" Tony stopped and, after a beat, he began to talk again "You should know him, you'd like Peter. He's clever, a very good person, funny, and he kind of looks like a puppy when he's confused" he sounded like a proud mom- dad-.

"Maybe he isn't your son biologically, but it sure sounds like a father and son relationship to me" Natasha commented "Also, I would really like to get to know him more, and the rest of the team also would like”

"Yes, it is, and I like it" Tony admitted, ignoring her second statement as he knew that Peter wasn't that comfortable around them.

There was a moment of silence before Peter heard footsteps: both of them were walking, but then someone stopped and the heavier ones reminded. Tony.

"What?" the billionaire asked.

"Shh" was the only response Peter heard from the spy, but he imagined her holding a finger to her lips.

He concentrated in his enhanced hearing, he could hear a lot of things- the vibrations of the lights and electronics, Steve humming and the traffic of New York- but there was one more sound, closer- God. He was purring, and the sound stopped abruptly when he realized that he shouldn't, something that took more time than it should have.

"What was that?" she asked "In the ceiling... it sounded like a cat"

"Cat? Why would a cat be in here, Nat? There was nothing, probably a malfunction in the lights or something"

She hummed and after a few moments Peter heard the footsteps again. He was able hear one more sentence before the sound of the door closing filled the room.

"Tell the kid that if he ever wants training he can come to me, a favor from a spider to a spider" she said, and Peter paled.

He had bigger problems than Tony realizing he was hearing their conversation all this time now.

[madisonbarton]

Daddy’s Blunt Little Instrument Chapter 3

TITLE: Daddy’s Blunt Little Instrument Chapter 3 PAIRING: [Steve/Madison] RATING: T CHAPTER: 3/? SUMMARY: Madison Barton, Junior Agent for SHIELD, is determined to get her father back from Loki. Along the way, she falls in love. When her father returns, she is determined to get revenge on Loki for what he did and becomes an Avenger herself against her father’s wishes.

Banner and Madison were in the lab when Loki was brought in.

He smirked as he walked past the two. His eyes lingered on Madison as the guards walked him down the hallway. From what he had heard about her from Barton, she could potentially be a fun little plaything for him.

Banner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Agent Barton, report to the control room and bring Banner with you”, Director Fury said over her ear piece.

“C’mon Doc, we’re needed in the control room, plus you look like you could need a break”, Madison told Banner.

The two went to the control room.

There was a large blonde man that Madison recognized from the footage in New Mexico. Apparently he was Loki’s brother or something like that. Madison saw Steve and smiled.

Steve returned the smile as she sat down next to him.

“That didn’t take long. What happened? Did you shock him in into compliance with your adorableness?” Madison asked him.

Steve blushed as Natasha brought up a video.

Loki was in a glass cage. A cage that was meant for someone else aboard the helicarrier.

“In case it’s unclear, if you try to escape, you so much as scratch that glass, its 30,000 feet straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?” Fury asked him, “Ant…boot”.

Loki chuckled and said, “It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me”.

“Built for something a lot stronger than you”.

“Oh, I’ve heard”, Loki said, turning to face the camera, “A mindless beast. Makes play he’s still a man. How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?”

“How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can’t hope to control. You talk about peace, and you kill because it’s fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did”.

“Ooh. It burns you to have come so close”, Loki taunted, “To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share. And then to be reminded what real power is”.

“Well let me know if ‘real power’ wants a magazine or something”, Fury quipped walking out of the room.

The screen on the table disappeared.

“Psycho”, Madison said under breath. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Steve smile.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Banner asked.

“Loki’s gonna drag this out”, Steve said like the military man he was, “So, Thor, what’s his play?”

“He has an army called the Chitauri. They’re not of Asgard, nor any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract”.

“An army from outer space”, Steve asked.

“Right up your alley, big boy”, Madison said to Steve.

“I never battled an army from outer space”.

“Yeah, well Red Skull might as well have been from outer space”.

He just looked at her.

“What? I read your file”, she said, “That and Coulson doesn’t shut up about you”.

“So…he’s building another portal”, Banner said after the two were finished, “That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for”.

“Selvig?” Thor asked.

“He’s an astrophysicist”.

“He’s a friend”.

“Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours”, Natasha said looking at Madison.

Madison looked down at her lap as Steve reached over and took Madison’s hand in his own gloved covered one. He gave her hand a light squeeze before letting go.

“I want to know why Loki let us take him. He’s not leading an army from here”, Steve said.

“I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki”, Banner told them, “That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats. You could smell crazy on him”.

Madison smiled.

“Have care how you speak”, Thor said, “Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother”.

“He killed 80 people in two days”, Natasha told him.

“He’s adopted”, Thor said, as if that explained everything, which sent Madison into a fit of giggles.

“I think it’s about the mechanics”, Banner said, ignoring the teenager, “Iridium…What do they need iridium for?”

“It’s a stabilizing agent”, Stark said walking into the room with Coulson, “It means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD”.

Stark stepped up to Thor. “No hard feelings, Point Break. You’ve got a mean swing”, Stark said hitting Thor on the arm, “Also, it mean the portal can open as wide and stay open as long, as Loki wants”.

Stark walked up the screens. “Raise the mizzenmast. Jib the topsails”, Stark said.

The agents simply looked at him.

“That man is playing Galaga. He thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did”, Stark said. He covered one eye and looked around. “How does Fury even see these?” he asked.

“He turns”, Agent Hill said.

“Sounds exhausting”, Stark quipped, “The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily”.

When her father’s name was mentioned, Madison’s hand tightened into a fist.

Steve could tell she was seconds away from storming out of the room. He moved one of his hands to settle on her lower back, stroking it with his thumb.

Madison turned to him and gave him a small smile.

“The only major component he still needs is a power source of high-energy density. Something to kick start the Cube”, Stark said.

“When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Agent Hill asked.

“Cause he’s a bloody genius”, Madison said.

“Thank you sweetheart”, Stark said, “But no. Last night. The packet, Selvig’s notes, the extraction theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?”

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Steve asked, wanting to get straight to the point.

“He would have to heat the Cube to 120-million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier”, Banner said.

“Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect”, Stark added.

“Well, if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet”.

“Finally, someone who speaks English”.

“Is that what just happened?” Steve asked.

“I don’t think so. I think it was geek. I don’t speak geek either”, Madison said.

Stark and Banner looked at the teenager, who simply gave them a cheeky smile.