#like. i try to practice kindness and graciousness in my life

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

they should invent a version of looking at tiktok comments on videos covering what's happening in palestine that doesn't turn your thoughts into those of a fucking jigsaw apprentice

[saetoru]

tee you know what would he so funny and i keep thinking about? is if you were seen with one of the blue lock men’s friends or teammates, and then there’s a picture on the news like “y/n cheating on ___?” 💀 idk i just giggle into my hand at the idea

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BLUE LOCK + RUMORS THAT YOU’RE DATING SOMEBODY ELSE

✩ — characters ⋮ itoshi sae, mikage reo, shidou ryusei ✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationships, rather pouty and salty boys <3 ✩ — notes ⋮ nauurr this is actually so cute so i decided to turn them into kind of short drabbles w a few boys <3

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。ITOSHI SAE.

sae stares at his screen and blinks. you fight back a grin as he rereads the title, trying not to let out a small giggle.

“itoshi sae bested by little brother in love,” he reads blankly, and you almost think he doesn’t care if not for the way his hand clutches his phone a little tighter.

“sae, it’s not our fault, okay?” you chuckle, shuffling closer on the bed, wrapping yourself around him, “the paparazzi just caught us off guard. you know how they twist things for the headlines.” he does know—but still, he eyes you from the side before scrolling along the article and staring at more pictures of you and rin walking out of the convenience store.

“you went with rin? really?” he grumbles, eyeing a picture of you both laughing as you walk out the store. why is it so easy for rin to laugh at your jokes? more importantly, why is it so easy for you to laugh at his?

“well technically you were supposed to go with me, but you were being grumpy,” you huff, looking at him with raised brows.

it’s rare for both the brothers to be at their old childhood home at the same time, they never really get vacations that overlap enough to visit their parents together—and it’s never really been a priority for either of them with such an…estranged relationship. but this year’s a rare stroke of luck, and sae’s mother insists he brings you along with him for the ‘full family effect.’

except he rarely leaves the room if not to go for his jog or the gym—and you’re tired of being cooped up indoors all day. so when he opts for staying in to rewatch a match when you practically beg him to go to the convenience store around the corner with you, and rin so graciously offers to walk with you to grab a few things himself—how could you decline?

“i wasn’t being grumpy,” he says bitterly, “i was busy. it’s different.”

“well, me and rin had a blast,” you tease, pointing at the pictures on his phone, “as you can see.”

“shut up,” he scowls, locking his phone and crossing his arms. it’s cute to see him like this—slightly jealous and petulant as he tries to shrug it off like he doesn’t care. you giggle, leaning to peck his cheek.

“so? how does it feel to have your brother steal the love of your life?”

“i don’t know,” he rolls his eyes, “seems to me like you came crawling right back to me in the end.”

“not taking it well, huh,” you say amused—and finally, he wraps a loose arm around your figure as you sprawl yourself on his chest, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “you know how you can win me back over? taking me to the store next time i ask.”

“oh trust me,” he says with a sour look on his face, making you snort as you poke his nose, “you’re not walking past that door without me next time.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MIKAGE REO.

reo is distraught.

“look at these comments,” he cries, shoving his phone in your face.

“reo,” you try to fight back a giggle, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately as you try to soothe his crisis, “it’ll blow over, don’t worry. me and nagi were just getting snacks.”

“yeah but they’re completely trashing me,” he whines, eyes all but popping out of his sockets as he reads the comments on the twitter post, “‘you know you’re lame when even your money isn’t enough to keep someone?’ what does that even mean?”

“it means you’re losing your charm,” you tease, cackling when he throws you a soft glare from his spot on the couch. he’s scooches away from you, sitting on the opposite end as he holds up a hand.

“you stay on your half,” he huffs, “i don’t want to sit with a cheater.”

“i didn’t cheat!” you snort, “we went to get snacks for you too—”

“yeah and you forgot them,” he glares.

“i said sorry!”

“well, it doesn’t help,” he pouts as he turns back to his phone, glaring at his screen as he reads the way some of the comments are now claiming you and nagi are a cute couple. it makes his brows furrow as a vein all but pops in his forehead, making you bite your lip so as not to laugh and hurt your boyfriend’s already painfully bruised ego.

“baby, you know you’re the only guy for me,” you grin, shuffling over to his side of the couch, giggling as you cling to him while he tries to (gently) shove you off.

“i don’t know,” he grumbles, “clearly i’m not since you haven’t even defended me in these comments.”

“i’ll make sure to tell them your money still has all the appeal,” you grin, earning a sharp look from him as you throw your head back and laugh. “i’m kidding.”

“you’re not,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. he looks cute like this—makes your heart soar as you lean closer and cup his cheeks and press soft kisses along his face. and even as he tries to fight it, he can’t help but smile a little and lean into your touch.

“i’ll make sure to defend your honor in the comments,” you murmur, biting his cheek playfully. he turns, leans in for a peck to the lips as he sighs.

“you better,” he mutters, “these people are ruthless.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SHIDOU RYUSEI.

shidou is a nightmare if you’ve ever met one—makes your life increasingly difficult because how dare someone write an article that hints that what’s his could be anyone else’s?

“what do you want for dinner?” you ask, sighing as he shrugs.

“oh, i don’t know,” he grins condescendingly, “why don’t you let your other boyfriend decide?”

“ryusei—”

“if i see him, he’s gonna be one with the concrete, i’ll tell you that.”

“don’t even think about getting into trouble. that’s your teammate,” you pinch your nose, trying to be the one and only voice of reason there evidently is, “we just saw each other at the store and said hi—”

“why did he need to say hi?” he growls, crossing his arms as he stares at his screen again, eyeing the title of the article that’s single handedly spoiled your afternoon with a moody boyfriend in your hands. “i should teach him a lesson—”

“you should do no such thing—”

“you know what? i don’t even care,” he says suddenly, and there’s too much of a wicked grin on his face for you to feel at ease about his sudden turn of mood.

“ryusei.” your voice comes out as a warning, but he pays it mind.

“yeah, babe?” he says sweetly, scrolling through his phone and making your stomach churn as you walk over.

“what are you—” and then there’s a buzz of your phone, cutting you off as you hesitantly glance at it in your hand, noticing the mention you have from him. “what did you do?” you narrow your eyes.

“nothing,” he shrugs, “just cleared the air.”

and if you were unsettled before, you’re certainly concerned now because shidou ryusei taking matters into his own hands can only mean a headache for you and serious damage control for his team. you groan, rubbing your temple as you prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

“what could you possibly—are you kidding me, ryusei? are you out of your mind?” you stare at the picture he’s posted, one of him practically sucking your face off in the middle of god knows where—when did he even get this picture? and who took it? but as quickly as the questions pop into your head, you decide just as fast that you don’t even want to know.

“that’ll teach ‘em,” he grins darkly, and he has the audacity to look proud of himself, earning himself a harsh glare from you. he only snickers, grabs you by the wrist and tugs you onto his lap on the couch. “wanna recreate the picture?” he grins widely.

“no i want to delete the picture,” you grumble.

“not an option,” he says smugly, and then his lips are on yours—and even if he’s shaved ten years off your life, you think it’s at least a good thing that he’s back to his usual self.

i want to have a lil salty sae in my bed immediately.

[performing-personhood]

I learned a kind of funny thing and I need to tell you bc it's important, cmere. Lean in so the others can't hear okay?

Ok so like

I know that the reason we are the way we are is because at some point we took up some space - as people do - and someone turned to us and went "whoa, excuse you! What do you think you're doing" or something, right? And they were, like, surprised and offended that we took up space and told us to stay real small and subservient? And we were pretty young, you and me, and we didn't really grok Peopling yet and so we assumed that everyone else was going to have that expectation too?

Okay I just learned: that isn't true at all, that person was just an asshole.

Babe. BABE. This is big.

Ok do you realize ??? that most people when they're around someone - anyone, this is important, it's an unconscious reflex and happens rather automatically - and that person is like "I have an opinion and desires and also some needs and I am going to express them openly" Did you realize, because I didn't, that most people completely intuitively go "oh! There's another person here! Lemme just scootch over so they fit better :)" PEOPLE MAKE ROOM FOR YOU.

People don't ignore us, when we're silently having wants and needs and waiting our turn to be noticed, they just have similar very loud brains and have no idea because beung corporeal is Distracting™️. Not only do people just need a reminder that you're there, they're totally happy to accomodate. In a distinctly "ope! My bad, lemme just- here-" sort of way.

My spouse has a loud brain and drowns it out with Mario Kart. I've spent most of my life quietly entertaining myself in all of these instances, because at some point someone told me I was supposed to "go play" and nobody wanted to play with me so I entertained myself right? Okay. Well I recently had a sea change and decided I was gonna pop my headphones in and watch TV on my tablet when he was doing his Mario Karting. Because the boy will easily go for four hours and I just spontaneously realized that it would actually be ridiculous if he got butthurt at me for putting some quiet tv on for myself instead of watching a grown man play the same video game for hours.

You know what happened? Not only did nobody's feelings get hurt, but I have never made it more than twenty minutes into a show before he ends a match and switches the console off. And I have never asked him to do so. When I'm over there doing my own thing with my own TV show like a person instead of just scrolling on my phone trying real hard not to exist, somewhere in his unconscious he goes "there's a whole other human being on the other end of the sofa from me. I want to turn this off and engage with that person!"

Okay do you understand what I am telling you??

When you behave like a human person and treat yourself like a human person, other people also instinctively treat you like a human person and they're happy to be reminded that they get to engage with you. The person in our past that reacted differently and got mad at us for being a person, plainly and simply: they were just being an asshole to us.

The people we love want to engage with us. Almost all of them!!! And not only that?? Most other human beings feel the same way.

Huge. Big huge.

Don't take my word for it baby cakes okay, take a sec and muster up the courage (it'll be scary the first time, but the thinking about it is always scarier than doing it I swear) and then get back out there and practice being your very own human person occupying human people space, around someone who loves you, and just... watch what happens. The first time someone warmly, graciously, voluntarily accommodates you is the greatest feeling a corporeal being can experience, and you deserve it too.

[beababoobies]

this is an embarrassing ask but can u write sir pentious x succubus reader headcanons, sorry if this lacks any detail im gathering dust from sir pentious x reader stuff 😪 its okay if u dont wanna and/or aren't comfortable with it.

giggles maliciously. why yes. yes I can, lovey. SIR PENT X SUCCUBUS!READER HCS

the normal warnings you’ll find under a succubus-centric post. minors dni, cvm eating, cvm-centric (LOLLL)

✖️You had decided… finally, to become a better person. You couldn’t stay down here forever, and you honestly… had a guilty conscience from how many sinners thought you were in love with them after using them. So this.. hotel it was.

✖️In fact - you might’ve even liked it here. The people were so sweet, some even kind of.. hot, thought you brushed that out of your mind. Life was easier in here.

✖️Or so you thought. See, a succubus can only go so long without a fresh batch of food. And after a week? You were starving. You couldn’t sleep that night, curled up in on yourself, whining softly as your body begged and writhed for someone to milk dry. Slick ran down your thighs, you were drooling so much, so painfully ready to pray on a tired honey sinner.

✖️So that’s why; when a certain snake boy you had been not-so-secretly crushing on came to your door in the middle of the night quietly asking you to let him help you, despite your protests, you pushed away your pride and pounced on him.

✖️There wasn’t a single moment spent wasted on foreplay, or teasing, he was already hard, both of his cocks were - at the sight of you shaking and whining, trying not to drool all over the floor. So when his cocks spring out, you wasted no time going to work on them with your mouth.

✖️Lucky for you, double the cocks meant double the cum. As soon as he whined and grabbed a fistful of your hair, you knew you had him. Swallowing everything his first cock gave you graciously, feeling that pleasureful and warm sensation in your gut of finally being fed, you let out a satisfied sigh as you pulled your mouth from his cock, now dripping with drool, and went straight for the other before he could protest.

✖️As soon as you were done pulling cum from him with your mouth, you practically pounced on top of him. Whines of “I-i’m still ssssensitive, my dear-“ made you practically delirious. Like a starved man who has finally gotten his first take of a five-star meal, you used your hand to push his cocks together, and dropped down on them with an obscene squelch. ✖️And god, the stretch was something you had been craving since you first got down here. It was almost embarrasing how quickly you came, slick practically pouring down his bases as he whined beneath you, biting his lip like he might draw blood.

✖️”feels ‘s good baby, thank you for letting me milk you..” you drawled out as he whined and nodded frantically, hips bucking up into yours as you rode him, feeling your walls clench around his cocks was something he wouldn’t have imagined ever happening. He hadn’t even been with anyone since he’d gotten down here. So to watch a pretty succubus that he’d been obsessed with since the moment he’d seen her walk into the hotel bounce so greedily on him had him cumming almost immediately after you.

✖️Needless to say, he passed out under you. After five rounds, he was nearly shooting blanks inside of you, and you were deliriously full, tummy bulging ever so slightly at the amount of cum that has been shot inside you, ten big loads not or mention the ones you’d pulled from him with your mouth.. even just thinking about it made you feel hungry again. But you had been fed, and so you collapsed on top of him, cocks still nestled inside you, gently falling victim to slumber as his arms wrapped around you.

A/N: kekekekeke.

[catcze]

i know nothing abt your new man on account of not having touched genshin in over a year. that being said.

he looks like the kinda guy who gladly beats to a pulp anyone who tries to threaten you but will also hide behind you in a haunted house. very much the protector kind when it's important! but such a scaredy cat when it comes to the silliest of spooks. please hold his hand.

This is so funny wait 😭😭😭 my god hAHSDJK

"We don't have to, you know."

Beside you, your boyfriend clears his throat. "N-no. No. You'd probably have fun, so we should go." Wriothesley neither looks at the entrance of the haunted house, nor at you. Graciously, you decide to ignore his stutter and the way his palm is starting to become clammy in yours.

You're about to protest again because archons, you have never in your life seen Wriothesley as unsettled as he looks now and you kind of feel bad for essentially dragging him along with you. Before you can try to back out again, he squeezes your hand (oh yeah, his palms are definitely sweating) and tries to smile at you. Nervous, but not for yourself, you shakily smile back.

One hand in yours and the other in his pocket, he leads you both to the decrepit, looming entrance. Neither of you can see any further past the doorway, the interior shrouded in darkness. You think you hear Wriothesley gulp beside you, but he shoulders on, bringing you two inside.

"How bad could it be?" he asks.

Behind you two, the doors slam shut.

As you quickly find out, very. It could be very, very bad.

Your big, scary boyfriend who beats the shit out of treasure hoarders and deals with literal criminals on the daily shakes like a leaf every time a cheap spooky sound effect plays from the hidden speakers. A floorboard so much as creaks and he looks wildly around the two of you like he wholeheartedly is preparing to fight for his life.

Once, a costumed actor dressed and made up to look like a decaying creature sprinted at you two from down a hall and Wriothesley fucking shrieked (he denies it) and practically hoisted you onto his shoulder before bolting away.

Another time, an actor dressed as a drowned ghost popped up from who knows where and spooked Wriothesley so bad that you were genuinely worried that he was going to start swinging. You had been the one to take his hand and run that time, but more for the actor's sake rather than your own because you were not going to let the public know that the Duke Wriothesley almost started a fight with a fake ghost in a haunted house.

Needless to say, by the time both of you burst from the doors of the exit, Wriothsley was several shades paler, taking big gulps of air hunched over with his hands on his knees, and you just wanted to lay down and pass out.

It was unexpectedly fun, no doubt about it— you could never not like doing things together with Wriothesley and hanging out with him. Still, you conclude as you limply slide down a wall, legs sore from all the running. Maybe you'll cross the haunted house off the list the next time you two go to a fair.

[merakiui]

ALIEN SCARAMOUCHE WITH OVIPOSITION MERA ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME 😭 I need more, what would he look like, what are his motivations... Omg... Maybe some kidnapping going on...some experiments on humans...him studying how humans reproduce and if his race can use them... Aaaa my mind is going crazy with ideas, please do share yours too! <3

What if he doesn’t have a form of his own (something that sort of ties into canon Scaramouche’s obsession with wanting a heart and a purpose)? And maybe he’s more like a shadowy mass that can take the form of anything so long as he’s encountered said thing (i.e. made contact with it? Or maybe he has to kill the original in order to take its form? Or it’s something like a reflection where if you happen to look at him long enough he’ll have a good enough idea of how to replicate your form from staring and analyzing it.) and since he’s so dedicated to having a form that really fits, that truly feels like him, he’s continued to adapt and evolve as the years pass throughout every planet in the solar system.

Perhaps he does have a few features of his own, but maybe they’re sort of scattered?? Or they aren’t really features his species is known to have? He’s like a mixture of various things he’s observed over the time he’s spent on your planet in an effort to shape himself into something beyond the formless shadow he’s lived as for so long. Like a patchwork copycat composed of so many different parts because he’s desperately trying to understand all of these things. It’s like his version of trying on clothes and new fashion styles. So maybe he has horns or maybe cat ears because he’s seen so many stray cats and they’ve always fascinated him for some unexplainable reason (maybe in order to have these features he’s had to ingest part of the living thing he wants to replicate??? Just something a little extra horrifying for our beloved alien mouchey. <3) And maybe the only thing he has from the one who created him (Ei) is the same piercing stare in a pair of brilliantly colored eyes she graciously bestowed upon him.

Maybe Scaramouche can’t understand human emotion in the usual sense that other humans might, so he assigns flavors to these unusual feelings. When he hurts the things he likes or is interested in (cats, the human he stole his current appearance from (i.e. Kabukimono; let’s pretend they’re two separate individuals hehe), and even other gentle things or creatures who are completely innocent), the taste in his mouth is sour or bitter or so very intolerable. I think over time he hardens himself and learns to live with the foul flavors he often encounters when he attempts to blend in with humans and utterly fails because he can never replicate their emotions as well as he can copy behaviors or appearances. He starts his journey so curious and sweetly innocent, albeit murderous and eerie, and he tries so hard to learn and be good and explore the world with the eyes his mother gifted him and yet he always finds himself hurting. He hates it. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible, and he has never truly felt before. This is new.

When Scaramouche is captured by Dottore, a human scientist who is a little too dedicated to the pursuit of forbidden knowledge, he finally tastes the cruelty of humankind—learns of the lengths they’ll go to in the name of scientific breakthroughs. The researchers run dozens of tests on him. He can’t feel external or internal pain from wounds or injuries; he’s sturdy, birthed from a substance foreign to humans, intended to survive the harshest conditions. But Scaramouche feels pain—the emotional kind. He’s never felt fear; he’s what humans would call an apex predator. He’s strong. He’s never needed to feel fear, and so he doesn’t fear the unknown. He isn’t scared of the sharp tools, of the peculiar creatures he’s shown in hopes that he might replicate them and their features, nor does he fear the trajectory of this new life. The concept of ethical practices means nothing to him even though he’s aware he’s a lab rat, a grotesque curiosity that doctors poke and prod at. He reacts to everything in unique, defensive ways. He impaled a doctor through the throat with a strange shadowy spike. It moved as though it were liquid, yet it struck very solidly, sharply, deadly efficient. Dottore likens its movements and behaviors to that of an octopus’s tentacle; Scaramouche is unsure of this comparison. This is merely a shadow of something he has observed—a reflection. A cheap copy. He has never been original.

You’re the first human he meets who isn’t adorned in sterile white. No lab coat, no gloves, no goggles, no protective gear. Just clothes. Normal clothes. The both of you are separated by indestructible glass, placed in two very white rooms, and you can see one another so clearly. Scaramouche hates the purity of white because he knows that when he’s forced into a white backdrop he’s meant to stain it red. And lately he doesn’t want to break things that are undeserving of it. Perhaps he’s feeling too much. Perhaps he ought to tear these human feelings out and go back to the blank, shadowy slate he once was. How he intends to accomplish that, he has no idea.

He’s uninterested in you at first. You’re a human. He’s seen humans. He interacts with them daily. He’s killed plenty. But you spend nights in that white room and he watches you sleep. He tries to sleep in the same way you do; he has no need for sleep. He regulates his energy differently. He tries to breathe like you. He blinks at the same times you blink—or he comes awfully close. He tries to copy your movements and mannerisms. One night he presses himself to the glass and takes your form and watches you, counting every rise and fall of your chest as you lie so comfortably on the very uncomfortable cot. With hands that mirror yours, he pokes at these human features. He fits one hand in the other and pretends he’s holding your actual hand. There is no warmth, though. Humans are warm; Scaramouche is not. He’s frigid. His home planet is gloomy and cold and desolate. He thinks humans are lucky for cyclical days—for being in close proximity to the sun. There is no sunshine where he hails from. He likes the way the sun feels on him. It used to burn terribly when he first arrived on this planet. Now it’s like a hug—a hug that still singes, but a hug nonetheless. He’s never known what a hug is, but he thinks this is what it must feel like—like the burning warmth of a sun.

Scaramouche feels true, raw, animalistic, paralyzing fear when you’re taken out of the room after two weeks and replaced with a new human. You’re gone. Replaced. Are you dead? Did he kill you? Did he stare too long? He’s distraught, overcome with a horrifying emotion that has him curled and trembling in the corner of his white room (a cage if he’s ever known one). Why aren’t you here? And why is he so…restless? He can’t call it fear because he doesn’t know that word. But oh he’s scared. He’s so scared. You were the first human to smile at him, to put your hand on the glass where his rested, to sit close to the glass and eat meals alongside him. You were like the stray cats he’s interacted with: kind, soft, gentle, sweet. He’s so scared he loses the ability to remain in his human skin, and he practically melts into a shadow, clinging to the corner like glue or slime. He’s empty and alone. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible.

The humans that follow are terrified of him. Either that or they’re disgusted, baffled, cautious. He hates every one of them, so much so that he’s tried to break through the glass numerous times to dispose of them. Weeks pass; he’s forgetting your features. There are no mirrors here, so he must rely on the reflections shown in the glass. Some days he thinks he looks just like you; other days he’s certain he’s a monstrosity—a sloppily stitched version of you. The you he saw did not have pointed fangs or curling horns. He hates his reflection because it isn’t you. Most importantly, he hates that the humans he’s forced to look at are protected by this thick layer of glass. If it wasn’t so indestructible, he’d tear through every human nuisance until he reaches you.

Scaramouche is not sure how many months pass, but you return. And when you do the fear ebbs away. He feels…happy? Is that the right term? He’s pleased to see you, and for the first time in a while he returns to his human appearance—to the one he took from a young man many centuries ago. You’re back. You’re here. He’s so happy. He detaches himself from his corner and he tries to smile in the way you do. And, though it’s awkward and strange and sharp-toothed, you smile right back.

Dottore decides then that you are to be the next subject in this experiment. He’s observed Scaramouche’s reactions to you and compared them to reactions to the other humans and found that you are the best suited to this role. If anything, the alien couldn’t have picked a better specimen to adore. You’re helpless and so naïve. You need the money; it’s why you allowed yourself to live in that room for a few weeks. You were paid handsomely for it. He’ll pay you beyond handsomely if you agree to what’s next. And, really, when you’re in between a predator’s jaws do you really have much of a choice?

Scaramouche needs a human match, and the scientists need to study more than just the social biology of an alien. They promise you he won’t hurt you, and if he does it’s all right. They’re kind enough to respect the wishes of the dead. You must let Dottore know if you’d prefer a burial or a cremation. There’s nothing special in this distinction; it’s just a precautionary measure. You’ll agree to participate in this experiment whether or not you want to.

Your new home is the white room that faces Scaramouche, and after some more time and observations to ensure you won’t be killed the moment you step foot in his space the glass barrier will be lifted. Dottore wonders how Scaramouche’s kind mates and reproduces.

There’s only one way to find out.

[miela]

Shattered Memories • Chapter IX: The Thread of Silk and Gold • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: FLUFFITY FLUFF Chapter Warnings: it's another long boi (cries in overachieving and overly self-critical writer) Extra: FELLOW SWIFTIES THIS ONE IS FOR YOU, Had to pull out my songwriting skills for this one-, another chapter I was so excited for EEEEEEEE- Word Count: 6.2k

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↪ divider by firefly-graphics

DIARY / Dream Log #67 / 05 JUN 2025

I think the hardest drug I ever took was all of Taylor Swift's discography. Because there is no way this boy in my dreams is real. He sounds like fragments of her songs and I swear being a swiftie is finally turning my brain cells delulu.

He's my midnight folklore lover (pun completely intended)

See he's not the breakup songs, no he's the love songs. He's fearless, state of grace, hey stephen, and many others all wrapped in a box of mystery with a bow on too that I can't untie or cut loose.

Of course, I made him up, why else can't I see his face? He's not real, right? He can't be. Something that good in my life doesn't exist. What do I deserve from this kind of love? All I do is hurt the ones I love, so of course he's not real. I'm just delusional. Delusional and lonely as hell.

But at the same time…then why does everything feel like a memory?

[END NOTE]

You decided that you would spend your day at the Avengers Tower penthouse. You don't think you could handle Sam, Bucky, and Dr. Cho teasing you for beaming like an idiot and trying to squeeze it out of you. And you couldn't explain to them how you didn't stay put like you were supposed to. You wondered what they would say if they knew that you kissed him…twice. God forbid Morgan knew too? You would never hear the end of it for at least three months. It was your day off so you didn’t have to worry about random calls since Nika agreed to leave you alone for a while as a way to make up for almost ruining your kiss with Peter. 

You could still feel his lips on yours like the ghost of him was left with you when your lips met. 

You felt different after the kiss. Good different. You felt lighter like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders and you weren’t sure if it was from the kiss itself or something else. You just knew you were really happy. 

You were looking at the timeline FRIDAY had made (and graciously made into the form of a spider web just to fuck with you) and sighed. You wish you could remember everything you were with Peter. It looked like it was lovely…what you guys had before. You wish you could make yourself remember but you couldn’t. 

But things started to feel more familiar than before and you couldn't really explain it. After the first kiss, it was like your body remembered him. Kissing him felt familiar but foreign in a good way. 

You knew Peter was the faceless boy in your dreams, with no doubt. Especially because he never denied it. You both would beat around the bush about confirming it with the fear of it hurting you even though you were the one to push for answers more than he was. Hell, you're the one who had to find him.

You eyed the timeline and took a deep breath. "FRIDAY, archive the timeline."

After that, you went to the music room where you kept all of your guitars. You were in the mood to play and sing your little happy heart out. You didn't have a lot of guitars but you did have a collection of them that you loved and cherished. You had the first one you ever got which was a regular wooden brown acoustic one that you practiced on all the time. It was filled with stickers on the back of it to give it personality. You still remember how painful your fingers would feel after four hours of practice every day. There was a black one that your dad got you after you mastered playing the first song that you were learning. It was your favorite one for a while until you got your red one. You remember being afraid of using it because you were worried that it would break in your hands. It was precious to you and you didn’t want to mess it up.

It was one of the ones Taylor Swift used on her Red tour. 

It was a gift from your beloved Spidey for your birthday. He used his Spidey status and sent Taylor a letter asking if she could wish you a happy birthday. He didn’t expect a response from her, but a week later she did. After a conversation between your favorite hero and your favorite singer, you were met with a beautifully written birthday letter with tickets to her concert and a Polaroid picture of her and her three cats, a video of her singing Happy Birthday, and two signed red guitars, one electric and the other acoustic. The red electric guitar was hung on the wall in your bedroom with the Polaroid framed next to it. The acoustic one took you a week to even use. You remember crying with happiness on and off for three hours when you got it. 

Apparently, without knowing, he had saved her once and she wanted to thank him in some way and he chose that to cash in.  

You smiled as you picked it up and looked at it for a long, loving moment before turning to grab your notebook. You walked down the stairs and into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and set the guitar next to you as you opened your notebook. You flipped through the pages and looked at the notes, lyrics, doodles, scratched-out, aggressively circled, and underlined words, and tear stains that filled the pages. 

The entire notebook was dedicated to him. The Faceless Boy. Peter Parker. 

You don’t know why you bound so much of your emotions about him along the white pages and you couldn’t tell if it was a way to clear your mind or if it was a way to heal. Maybe both. 

You decided that you were going to stop forcing yourself to remember him and just enjoy the time you’re spending with him and appreciate the new memories you’ll be making with him. One’s that hopefully won’t be erased from your mind this time. Will he ever tell you what even happened? Maybe not and you still hadn’t decided if you were okay with that, but in due time, hopefully, he will be honest with you. 

You landed on a page that you remember fresh in your mind because you had only written one thing on the page, and it was three weeks ago when you wrote it. 

A single thread ties me to you and yet not a single memory clicks. Are there clues I didn’t see?

It wasn’t the first time you wrote a poetic line in this notebook about the faceless boy, and it wasn’t the first time a poetic line became a fully fleshed-out song. And this moment of inspiration that you had didn’t make anything different. Maybe it was because you were still giddy from the night before. 

So you grabbed a pen, picked up your guitar, and began writing and strumming your little heart out. 

My sweet boy…

Those three words rang through Peter’s mind for the rest of the night until he fell asleep. And then he dreamt of all the times you called him that before. 

He knew you didn’t remember him, that was clear. But something happened when you guys kissed. He knew you felt it because he felt it, and he felt you feel it. On top of that, you didn’t feel any pain from it. And then when you called him my sweet boy…

He nearly lost his mind. 

So when Peter woke up, he felt determined. He made a decision that he should have made weeks ago. Really it should have been five years ago.

He was going to tell you everything. And nothing could and would stop him. 

So he got up and got into the shower. He spent an ungodly amount of time in there trying to figure out what he was going to say and how to react to any of the possible reactions you would have. After that, he got out and forced himself to eat something before grabbing his backpack and pulling out from under his bed the suitcase full of the things he took from your room instead of telling you everything right then and there. He had his reasons, but he was beginning to second-guess them. He opened the suitcase to check and make sure everything was in there. When that was done, he set the stuff he was taking with him on the bed. 

He put on his spider suit, the one you made for him all those years ago, and put his backpack over his shoulders. He made sure the suitcase was locked and secured so nothing would fall out. He thinks he would actually die if that happened. He picked it up and went to hurry out before he backtracked.

He glanced over at the silver spider necklace sitting on his end table.

He chewed his lip. He wants to give it to you so badly, but…he wanted it to be another special moment when he did give it back to you. 

So he left it there and hurried out of the apartment window. 

Once, he made it onto the roof of the building, he called you. But it went to voicemail. No doubt, you were taking a break from work today. So just to be sure he called your office number.

"Stark Industries," Nika chimed in a customer service voice.

"Hey, Nika. It's Peter,"

"Ah, Avenger Lover Boy,” Her voice went back to normal. “What can I do you for?"

He blushed under his mask at the nickname. "Is (Y/N) there today?"

"Yep, she's up in the penthouse-"

"Cool! I'll be there in like…fifteen minutes."

“Oh?” she asked with obvious cheekiness in her tone. “Making a grand gesture? You better be bringing flowers.”

“She doesn’t do bouquets,” Peter stated. “She prefers going to see the flowers in their natural state. Better for the environment in her eyes.”

Nika hummed in amusement. “You pay attention. Good. See you in a few.”

And with that, she hung up.

He swung from Queens to Manhattan as fast and as carefully as he could and even helped a few people along the way. When he arrived he walked straight into the Avenger’s building. He would’ve swung up to a window and climbed in, but he had no idea how security was and he didn’t wanna risk dropping anything from the highest building in New York City. Again, he thinks he would actually die if that happened. So he let his anxiety win and played it safe by going through the building like a normal person. 

 He hurried straight for the elevator and impatiently pressed the button as if that would make it come down faster. He tapped his foot on the ground in suspense and waved at different people who walked passed and greeted him. When the doors finally opened, he waited for the people to walk off before hurrying his way inside and aggressively clicking buttons again. 

Before the door could close, a hand stopped it from doing so.

Peter looked to see Nika step inside and give him a straight-faced nod as she pressed the button for the door to close. She glanced at him without saying anything and then scanned her eye. There was a long silence as the elevator went up and it honestly made Peter uncomfortable.

“You know,” Nika started. “You’re bold for wearing that suit today after that kiss from yesterday.”

Peter looked at her, his mask showing that his eyes widened.

“I’ll make sure the top floor is on lockdown from anyone else.”

“Nika…” Peter replied as his face burned under his mask when he realized what she was implying.

“Relax, I’m messing with you,” she smirked at him. “You’re so tense right now. Lighten up, dude.”

He took a deep breath and shook it out a little. He was extremely tense. He was about to tell you everything that you should’ve been told years ago. 

Once the elevator stopped, she spoke again.

"Good Luck, Peter Parker,” she smiled and walked off and gave him a salute. 

"Th-thank you," Peter replied and the elevator closed again and went up.

He took another nervous breath. “Alright, Peter, you got this. No backing down.”

When the doors opened he hurried in to find you, but he stopped when he heard the sound of a guitar coming from the conference room. He stopped in his tracks when he realized that it was you playing your guitar. He slowly walked over to the staircase walked up quietly and kept his distance.

He stopped when he saw you, dressed in a pair of black joggers, a black fitted sleeveless crop top, and a long black cardigan that was falling off one shoulder. You had your stark specs on and you wiggled your bare toes and you strummed the red guitar that he recognized all too well. You were facing the window and he could see your reflection through it but he was just out of view to where you couldn’t see his. He smiled under his mask. He missed watching you play. 

But the minute you started singing, his heart nearly stopped. 

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Peter remembered when you told him that there were days when you would go to this park and read a book. Sometimes you still went when you needed to clear your mind. Although you were proud to be a Stark, it was a bit of a heavy thing to have on your shoulders at such a young age. So to get away from everything, you would take a book, go to Centennial Park, and escape into worlds that were different from yours. He remembered how you told him that you always hoped to meet eyes with somebody there and fall in love with them.

That’s not exactly how it happened with the two of you, but you always said it was better than your little fantasy. 

Blue was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the deli shop

You used to go when you had a little money

He recalled the first time you went to his place with Celina. You all had a project you were working on and he took you to Delmar’s deli shop to get some food. 

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Peter realized the song was about your memories of him in your dreams. 

Bad was the blood of the vibes in the flight

On your trip to Germany

You ate at my favorite spot for dinner

Bold was the waitress on our three-day trip

Getting lunch in Saxony 

She said I looked like an American sweetheart

 

He remembered that day. The first time you guys met as Spiderheroes.

Time, mystical time

Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine

Are there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

He leaned against the wall and listened to you continue to sing.

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms right into the right heart

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

One web of silk and gold tied me to you

Peter smiled as he listened to your melodic and poetic words.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind

For the ones who broke my heart

Now I live life in the present.

Gold is the color of the leaves

When I'll show you around Centennial Park

Hell, what a journey but it brought me heaven

He looked forward to when you took him to your safe place. Again.

Time, wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies

And it's cool, darling, with me

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

You finished the song, let out a breath of relief, and drummed your nails on the guitar gently before setting it down next to you and picking up your notebook. Then you paused and Peter knew why. You sensed him and your eyes widened as you whipped your head around to look for him.

Now’s your chance, he thought, taking off his mask and walking into view.

"Peter…!" You chimed as you set down your notebook and got off the table. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Peter pressed his lips together. Here goes nothing. Actually, it’s everything. "(Y/N)...I have something to tell you."

"Okay…" you responded gingerly as you crossed your arms over yourself with your brows pulled together with a concerned look on your face. You must have sensed his nervousness.

Peter walked over to the table throwing his backpack down and setting the suitcase on the table. He quickly fiddled with the latches, forced them open, and then turned it towards you.  You looked at it to see a scrapbook, picture frames, polaroids, and other items that you recognized from…your dreams. Your eyes widened.

"Peter…?" You looked up at him wondrously.

"I know Ghost Stories is your favorite Coldplay album and Lover is your favorite Taylor Swift album.”

You looked at him confused. 

“I know you can't get a night of proper sleep unless you drink a cup of tea mixed with milk and honey and you need something to hold while sleeping, specifically, Starky, your wolf plush that you named after your family and the Starks from Game of Thrones. I know your favorite character from Game of Thrones is Lyanna Stark because of the quote 'You saw her beauty but not the iron underneath' from the books and that's the meaning of the blue roses on your tattoo. You also asked Steve to help you with the drawing years ago.”

Your expression turned to shock as you kept looking at him frozen.

“I know that you hate messy spaces and people handing you things because your dad was the same way. I know that you have to pet every cat you come across and that you like dark content and media because it reminds you of who and what you're fighting for and you fear being so out of touch with reality because you're extremely privileged.”

You blink rapidly as you process what is happening at the moment.

“I know that you love playing the guitar and you write songs. It's like your diary where you can properly express yourself because you wish your life was a musical because you're secretly a theater nerd. And you love Hamilton and Six. And Disney movies. And you love listening to the SMASH soundtrack. It’s one of the things you were shy about telling anyone about.”

You press your lips together as your expression softened and your eyes glossed over. 

“I know that you love movies and that you have a huge crush on Anakin Skywalker, which I always found concerning by the way. Like…everyone finds that concerning. Ned and I had a conversation about it yesterday. You also hate the recent Star Wars trilogy but you continue to hate-watch it with me because it's something that we did together and as long as we were together, you didn't care what we watched.”

You sniffled softly, listening to him go on.

“I know that you love cold weather because you love the feeling of it on your skin because it reminds you that you're alive and human. You love Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare because you love Shakespeare's humor and Poe's dark romanticism. And although you deeply despise magic you love a good fantasy novel. And your book boyfriends are Draco Malfoy and Aaron Warner. And I'm not getting any further into that because I should not be this jealous of fictional characters.”

You let out a choked laugh. 

“You have sensory sensitivity so you hate loud noises, bright lights, and feeling things on your hands. And it only worsened when you gained these spider powers that we share.”

You nodded softly and put a hand over your mouth to keep in your sob that was threatening to escape.

“(Y/N),” He walked up to you and gently cradled your face as his own eyes glossed over. “ We….we were in love....deeply and truly and I...fucked it all up and I still don't know if I regret it or not because you have grown into this amazing and beautiful person that I am still in love with....deeply and truly. And five years is a long time I know but...I wanted you to live your life without having to worry about me and be able to focus on yourself.”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a second like he was deciding on his next words carefully. 

“When your dad died ...I could tell that you would have been in a really dark place if I wasn't there to help distract you from it. And you know what? It was the same for me too. But we never really worked through it on our own. We became each other's distractions. And I wanted to come to you five years ago, but I made the impulsive decision to let you go so you could heal, grow, and explore life I know that's not a decision I should make for you and I'm so sorry, (Y/N/N), I'm so, so, so, so sorry-"

You couldn’t take it anymore and you grabbed his face and kissed him deeply and passionately before he could continue babbling. Peter froze a moment but then matched the energy of your kiss as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him.

 The kiss was much more desperate but just as passionate as the day before. And there was no one here to interrupt you. It was just the two of you and your passion running wild for each other. 

Peter wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You pulled back for a moment and he chased the kiss instinctively not wanting to part just yet. He looked at you with hooded eyes and you both catching your breath because you both forgot that breathing during a kiss is essential.

 You smiled softly and leaned your forehead on his as said barely in a whisper. "You finally admit you’re the faceless boy,” you sniffled as you met his gaze. “Idiot. You could’ve told me sooner that you’re the guy in my dreams..."

“I’m sorry…” Peter blushed and gulped softly before asking, "Can I also be the guy in your reality?"

You giggled. “There you go flirting again.”

“And I’m still being serious,” he smirked softly.

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as your smile grew. “About damn time you asked me.”

Peter smiled that charming smile you loved so much as he tasted your lips again and your senses continued to bloom within the both of you. 

You had so many questions and Peter was expecting that. He was honest and didn't hide anything from you when you asked.

He started by explaining everything that happened and why nobody could remember him. 

You repeated it back to him to clarify that you heard everything correctly.

"I'm not sure what pisses me off more, honestly."

"I think all of it pisses you off."

"You're right, it does. And you tried to get everyone to forget that you were Spiderman but you accidentally messed up Strange's spell and it caused a tear in the multiverse? And there were other Peter Parkers? And their villains were here? Wait, did you say Norman Osborn killed your Aunt May?!"

"Not our Norman Osborn," Peter explained. "Ours hasn't done anything yet. I've been keeping an eye on him."

You rubbed your temple and took a deep breath. "That's a lot to process. I think I hate magic again."

After that, he showed you all of the things in the suitcase. He started with the scrapbook that you both made together. It had a red cover and black pages that were filled with drawings, cute words, and pictures of the two of you.  The front of it read "Our Story."

There was a tic tac toe game page that read "You Won My Heart" where you both were bored one day and played a game of tic tac toe. You put hearts over each winning line and taped it nicely into the scrapbook. There was another page that read "Our Soundtrack" with different songs written under it. The page was filled with music-themed doodles. Some pages marked your firsts and different highlighting events and you took it all in as you flipped through the pages.

Peter was leaning his head on your shoulder as he also looked at each page. He has looked over this scrapbook on his loneliest days and he memorized it front to back. 

He half expected you to say something witty like "We're so cringe for this" or "This is so corny but I kinda love it" but you didn't. You were studying it with soft eyes as you ran your fingers over different parts of the pages and smiled softly. Sometimes you would ask a question about a certain page and Peter would answer.

You came across a page that read "Things I love about Peter" with a list. 

"Hmm let's see if this still stands," you teased. "One, pretty smile: true. Two, genius: also true. Three, Kind-hearted: very true. Four, Short King: also very true and adorable. Five, nerdy and geeky: love that. Six, hair: agreed." You skimmed down the rest of the list. "Wow, you're literally my type."

Peter smiled smugly. "I know."

You giggled in response. "Confidence is sexy on you." 

"I thought I was conceited?"

"It's different, you're my boyfriend now." 

His heart fluttered at that.

"I mean, I'm no Aaron Warner or anything." He teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully. 

"Let me explain something to you," you tapped his forehead. "What I like in fantasy and what I like IRL are two different things. In fantasy, I like the dark, brooding bad boys because they're written by women. They're meant to cater to my deep and dark desires personified into my fictionalized self.  In real life, I like guys like you. The sweet-hearted cuties from the start." You smiled at him as he looked at you. "So don't worry yourself over men who don't exist. Especially Anakin Skywalker. The actor was just cute and I have a thing for masks."

"Trust me, I know." 

You giggled softly and turned the page where it was a list called "Things I Love About (Y/N)". You paused and looked at it.

"Let's see if this still stands," Peter stated with a playful tone. "One, prettiest girl in the world: yep. Two, outspoken and not afraid to stand up to bullies: very true. Three, genius: also true. Four: hard exterior, soft interior: eh, you softened up. More approachable now. " 

You snorted in response.

"Five, geek, weeb: still true. Six, talented: extremely true. Shall I keep going?"

You giggled. "You're making my teeth hurt."

"You have phenomenal dental health, you'll live."

You threw your head back and laughed before looking at him. He was looking at you lovingly. You pressed your lips together and looked at the scrapbook shyly. 

"Thank you," you started. "For telling me everything." 

You felt his presence closer to you and looked back at him to see his face inches away from yours. You met his gaze before he leaned in to kiss you deeply and you responded by kissing back and closing your eyes. His hand softly landed on your cheek and he could feel the warmth of your face and the feeling of love and something else through his senses. you set the scrapbook off to the side and moved yourself to sit facing him as you both deepened the kiss.

He pulls back after a moment.

"Sorry," he said lowly. "I…I just had to make sure that this is real…that  you're real."

“I should be the one saying that,” you grinned. “I’ve been the one with dreams.”

“Touche.”

You giggled in response and kissed him again. 

You both spent most of the day in and watching movies as you cuddled on the couch. You lent him a pair of joggers and a Joy Division band tee shirt to wear instead of him walking around in his spider suit. You guys ordered pizza and tacos and then went back to watching whatever you guys felt like watching. Peter was lying back on the couch while you were lying on top of him with your head on his chest and your legs entangled together. His hand would stroke your back lightly every once in a while and it lulled you to sleep a couple of times. That, and the sound of his heartbeat in your ears.

"(Y/N)," Peter called to you softly.

Your eyes fluttered open and noticed that the movie you guys were watching had ended. You looked up sleepily at Peter who was smiling down at you. 

"Hm?" You hummed in question.

Cute, he thought. "I have to go patrol."

"Huh?" You asked and looked at the time. Five Thirty. "Jeez. I didn't realize…"

"It's okay," he kissed your forehead longingly for a moment and you closed your eyes at the feeling. "I can come back after."

You pout and then shove your face back into his firm chest. You didn't want him to leave. 

"No."

Peter chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Okay, princess, no more pouting."

He knew pet names like that are your weakness. He could feel the heat of your face on his chest and he smirked.

"Princess," he sang.

"Stop," you whined into his chest shyly while the heat on your face widened which caused Peter to laugh softly.

"You know," Peter started. "You could come with me. People miss you, y'know. Silk and Spidey, Spidey and Silk. I get asked about you a lot."

You sighed and slowly sat up to where you were sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively as you leaned your head on his shoulder "I…don't do that anymore."

You knew that people wondered what happened to some of the Avengers, and you were one of them that people often wondered about, especially since Spiderman was still out there protecting the little guy. 

But one day you just stopped and people wondered what happened to the beloved spiderhero. 

"I meant to ask,” Peter started as he looked at you. “Why did you stop?"

You looked at Peter and chewed your lip nervously. Many reasons made you hang up the suit but there were some that really caused you to stop. And you really didn’t want to talk about it.

"Well, for one, I wanted to help Pepper raise Morgan. Two, I have to focus on the company. And Three," you closed your eyes as you thought of the chapter in your life that you never wanted to speak of ever again. "I…made some big mistakes. I…hurt people in…so many different ways and I just don't see myself as a hero anymore because of it. When I was needed most, I let everyone around me down.” You took another deep sigh. ”Not much of a hero thing to do."

Flashes of the past enter into your mind and Peter could feel the guilt, pain, and fear of your senses stirring within him. It was strong and he didn't like it. Something told him there was more to the story but he didn't want to pry. Instead, he kissed your forehead comfortingly.

"Sometimes even the greatest of heroes make the biggest of mistakes."

"I doubt that," you replied. “I kind of like…really fucked up.”

“The fact that you feel guilty about it shows that you aren’t a bad person,” he began. "Do you remember when you first got your powers and what the first thing you did was?"

You remember that day clearly like it happened yesterday.

"I saved a van full of women and girls from getting kidnapped." 

"Yeah,” Peter smiled. “ Still in your ballet outfit. Bright pink with your makeshift mouth mask that you quickly made out of your extra pair of leggings.”

You looked up at him. 

“It went viral on YouTube and TikTok,” he continued.  “You didn't hesitate a second." 

You looked at your hands and played with your fingers.

Peter kept going. "You said in your expo speech. With great power comes great responsibility. 

"My dad told me that when I was little," you replied with a small smile. “‘Where there is great power there is great responsibility, where there is less power there is less responsibility, and where there is no power there can, I think, be no responsibility’ said by Winston Churchill. And ‘the more privilege you have, the more opportunity you have. The more opportunity you have, the more responsibility you have said by Noam Chomsky,” You raised your hands and looked at your fingertips, where your webs come from. “He told me to focus on the line that resonated with me the most and it was ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ and I’ve tried to live my life by that ever since.” 

Ah, Pete thought as he ran a hand through his curls. “Aunt May told me that exact same thing moments before she died."

You looked at him vaguely remembering him telling you that once before. A vague memory flashed in your mind of you holding a crying Spiderman in your arms alongside Ned, MJ, and Celina in the pouring rain. The memory brought a frown to your face. 

"When you have this power and then the bad things happen, then it's on us. You knew that immediately. Whether it stemmed from a hero complex or whatever, doesn’t matter. You understood that you had a responsibility. I had to learn it the hard way. And it cost my Uncle Ben’s life."

You looked up at him sadly and a bit of shock in your expression. You felt the guilt and sadness flowing through him. 

He continued.

"You're a hero, (Y/N), even when you think you aren't good enough to be one,” he leaned his forehead on yours.  “And you'll always be a hero to me."

Your heart swelled at his words and you pressed your lips together. “You always know the right things to say.”

“And I mean every word.”

You smiled and pecked his lips softly and he pecked yours back before you removed yourself from his lap so he could get up. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back.”

He nodded in response. “Okay.”

He got up, got changed, and walked out onto the launched pad for when your dad would put on the Iron suit. You walked out with him as you wrapped your cardigan around your shoulders. 

He turned and looked back at you with his mask in his hands. His eyes glistened in the sunset as the wind danced through his curls softly. He smiled softly at you. 

“See you later?”

“Mhm,” you responded with a smirk.  “Actually show up on time this time, yeah? Because if I have to go looking for you again after another five years I’ll-”

“Kick my ass into another dimension?”

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “Yeah…”

“You told me that before,” He said with a chuckle. “Five years ago, Statue of Liberty, moments before…the memory blip, as you call it. But I kissed the words out of your mouth.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms over yourself. “Maybe I should act on it.”

“Maybe you should,” Peter teased and put his mask on. “You gotta catch me first.”

“You’re just trying to get me to patrol with you.”

“Maybe,” he sang. “Maybe not. You’ll have to get it out of me.”

“Goodbye, Peter Parker,” you laughed. “Go, before a bank gets robbed or something.”

“Wow, trying to get rid of me? A bit ago you were begging me not to go. I didn’t take you for the wishy-washy type but hey a lot can happen in five years.”

Your jaw dropped in total shock. “You know what-” You began to speed walk towards him with a playful smirk. “Come here, Smartass!”

He laughed as you chased him around the platform before he ran towards the edge and you stopped in front of him slightly out of breath. He lifted his mask to reveal the bottom half of his face and he kissed your cheek and your face burned once again like it had been doing all day.

“I’ll come back on time, I promise.”

“You better,” you smiled at him. “Now go be a hero.”

He smiled back at you. “And you continue being mine.”

Your face softened as your heart beamed and he turned and jumped off the platform and swung across the city.

~

Tags:

@chrisevans-realwife @riordanness @peterdarlingg @thecrystalclarity @brckenmemories @paleprincesssxo @blackcanary130 @kindlover @i-have-no-life-charlie @melodicheauxxlovesfood

[hlficlibrary]

Hello hello! I was wondering if we had any Larry fics where it’s interview with a vampire-ish? Thank you in advance!!! X

Hi, anon! You're welcome! Unfortunately, I couldn't find any Interview With a Vampire AUs. I tried to find some with maybe some similar vibes in some way. So here's what I came up with...

Run and I'll Give Chase by orphan_account

“You go out every night and maybe you’re able to drink without hurting anyone, but you’re still thirsty, aren’t you? Still have an itch you can’t scratch. A need you can’t put a name to. You desire a companion.”

“You mean a keeper?” Harry corrects with venom in his voice. “Someone to put a leash on me.”

“Wouldn’t need a leash, love.” Louis whispers sensually, and he is suddenly behind Harry, too fast for his eyes to keep track of. “You’re practically pliant just by being in my presence. Of course, if you’re into that sort of thing, I could always get you a lovely collar with a matching leash once you decide to take me up on my offer.”

Or, Harry is a fledgling vampire without a maker. Louis is graciously offering to fill that role.

Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by whoknows

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

Can I just be the same? by Star_Henderson

“Are you skint?” Louis studied his face. “I can give you the bloody bus fare home, Harry. You don't have to walk.” His voice was soft. Caring.

Harry stopped, his body tingling. Fuck. He shouldn’t have crossed the road. Keep walking. Always keep walking.

“I’m not skint, but thanks for the offer. There’s not many kind people like you around. You’re lovely, you know that?” Harry reached his hand out tentatively, cupping Louis’ elbow and squeezing. “Thank you.” His voice hitched a little.

He’d roamed the country for centuries, coming in and out of people’s lives, never able to forge bonds. Or, if he did, breaking them and suffering the pain of lost love. That was his life forever. Stuck in this limbo with not one other person in the whole world who cared about him. So the kindness of a stranger really hit home, and this stranger with the bluest eyes and brightest smile was making Harry feel alive again. Reminding him of what he was missing

OR Harry is a two hundred year old Vampire with no one in the whole world and Louis is the kind hearted stranger who comes into Harry's life bringing something that Harry had missed. Love. But Harry is forever running, can Louis be the one to change all that?

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 25: I'm Home

Izumi: Can you see me, everyone? Is the sound coming through?

Citron: “It’s A-Okay~!”

Sakuya: “It’s good!”

Tsuzuru: “Where are you right now, Sakuya?”

Chikage: “Why does this look like the Edo Era?”

Citron: “Did you use a tie man slip!?”

Tsuzuru: “Time machine.”

Sakuya: “Ahaha. When I told the director about having remote rehearsals, they graciously let me use the theater’s stage.”

Izumi: I’m glad you all look healthy. It’s good to see your faces.

Tsuzuru: “As for us, it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since we last saw each other because we’ve been talking in BlooCha.”

Izumi: Oh, you did say you’d try using that. Is it different from LIME?

Sakuya: “The timing of our messages was weird because of our time differences, but it’s like a message board or an exchange diary, so it’s fun.”

Tsuzuru: “When we all get the timing right, it really feels like we’re together in the same room.”

Masumi: “You’re as loud as always while I’m trying to study.”

Tsuzuru: “Oh, yeah. Masumi, when are you getting your learner’s permit?”

Izumi: Eh, you’re getting a license?

Masumi: “I’m attending driving school. I’m getting a learner’s permit soon. I want to put you on the passenger’s seat as soon as possible.”

Citron: “I will be in charge of the backseat!”

Sakuya: “Masumi-kun seems like he’d be good at driving.”

Chikage: “We’ll leave the role of the Spring Troupe’s chauffeur to Masumi from now on.”

Masumi: “I’ll get a two-seater.”

Tsuzuru: “You really don’t want anyone other than the Director on board.”

Izumi: Itaru-san will be a little late, didn’t he. Let’s try adjusting without him first.

Izumi: Today’s purpose is to prepare for when you all return next week, so you can take it easy.

Izumi: If you can move, please do so. But if there’s no space, just saying the lines is fine.

Izumi: I’ll let you know about any changes to the production as we get to those points.

-

Izumi: — Okay, let’s stop here for now. It’s been a while, but you all remember everything well.

Sakuya: “This was our first time practicing remotely, so it was all kind of new.”

Masumi: “We’re not as close as we’d be in real life, so I feel like I’m relying on my memory of everyone’s acting.”

Chikage: “There’s some lagging, so we’ve got a few communication issues.”

Citron: “I want to practice pace to pace with you all again as soon as possible~!”

Masumi: “Face to face.”

Tsuzuru: By the way, Sakuya, your sword fighting’s gotten a lot better.

Sakuya: “Eh, you really think so!?”

Sakuya: “To be honest, I’ve been focusing on practicing the sword fights in my current performance, so I can put the knowledge I gain to good use for Romeo too.”

Izumi: Your progress is showing.

Tsuzuru: “Ah, then, in that case–”

Itaru: “Sorry, I’m late.”

Izumi: Good work today.

Sakuya: “Good work!”

Citron: “It’s time!”

Izumi: Please start from the scene with Mercutio, Tybalt and Father Lawrence.

Itaru: “Got it.”

-

Izumi: You were all a little stiff at first, but that faded when you got used to remote practicing.

Izumi: I’m glad the Spring Troupe’s atmosphere hasn’t changed.

Sakuya: “We can act even when we’re apart.”

Tsuzuru: “We may be in different places, but it’s nice how it feels like we’re all connected on top of the same stage.”

Izumi: Okay, I’ve relayed all production-related changes to you, so we can end practice here. 

Masumi: “If we’re done, do you have a moment?”

Izumi: Hm? What is it?

Masumi: “I sent you a proposal on LIME just now. Take a look.”

Izumi: … A plan proposal? Eh!? Did you write this?

Izumi: (Amazing, the contents are so detailed that it looks like a corporate proposal.)

Masumi: “I’ve been learning a lot of things in the promotion department I’ve been interning in.”

Izumi: I see… I think it’s really well put together. I’ll bring it up to Sakyo-san.

Masumi: “Was I of help?”

Izumi: Of course! Gathering all of these by yourself must’ve been difficult. Thank you!

Masumi: “Not at all. I’m glad I got a chance to realize how difficult what you do is.”

Masumi: “I’ll help you too from now on.”

Izumi: If you say so, I’ll be counting on you.

-

Sakuya: I’m home!

Izumi: Welcome home. You’re the first one.

Sakuya: The plan was for me to leave tomorrow, but the organizer scheduled an off day for me today…

Sakuya: I wanted to be the first one here so I can say “Welcome back” to everyone else.

Sakuya: Because I was really happy when I went off by myself and everyone welcomed me back…

Izumi: I see. I’m sure you’re looking forward to everyone coming back.

Sakuya: I am. I want to practice with everyone as soon as possible. I thought a lot about my acting plan while I was away.

Sakuya: I was inspired by the performances of other companies, and I learned a lot, so I’ve got all kinds of ideas…

Sakuya: There are so many things I want to talk about and try out.

Sakuya: Speaking of which– I’m going to the practice room for a bit!

Izumi: What? Already?

Sakuya: I feel like moving my body all of a sudden!

Izumi: Hehe, take it easy and make sure you don’t exhaust yourself.

-

Sakuya: 1, 2, 3, 4…

Sakuya: (There’s really no other place that calms me like this… It feels like I came back home.)

Sakuya: (Now that I think about it, I wonder where everyone is? It’s about time Citron-san and the others who went abroad would be departing for their journey back home…)

tsuzuru has entered the chat tsuzuru: good morning tsuzuru: i’m packing my things right now, i’m having some trouble because I’ve got too many souvenirs tsuzuru: i’m not sure if the souvenirs i bought for everyone in the company /and/ the souvenirs for my brothers will fit in here tsuzuru: oh, right, i have to remember to pack my computer. i’ll be working til last minute, so i might forget. Curry has entered the chat Curry: i’ll remind you about your pc tomorrow tsuzuru: you’re like a man with many talents To Rorr has entered the chat To Rorr: i am on the verge of eating breakfast! i will head to the airport in the afternoon. i can’t wait to be surrounded by everyone! UC has entered the chat UC: I have a connecting flight, so I’m about to board the plane for Narita Airport. I’ll probably arrive at the dorm tomorrow afternoon. Saku has entered the chat Saku: I returned a day earlier. Stay safe on your way back, everyone!

Sakuya: (Itaru-san is rarely online. He must be really busy…)

Tsumugi: Welcome back, Sakuya-kun.

Banri: Welcome back.

Sakuya: I’m back!

Tenma: Practicing already? I’ll help out.

Sakuya: Thanks! Can I ask you to be my opponent in a sword fight?

Sakuya: I was thinking of taking it easy, but I’ve been restless ever since I stepped into the practice room.

Tsumugi: I think I understand the feeling.

Tenma: I’ll tag along till you’re satisfied.

Banri: Let’s confirm the production-related matters while we’re at it, then.

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

NOTES:

(1) an acting plan is, quite literally, a plan an actor makes for how they will use their expressions and actions, in order to prevent focusing on only one part of their performance and/or to prevent stiffness. i could not for the life of me find information on this in english, so i'm not sure if it's called something entirely different.

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Hi everyone 💙

Only one main POV in this chapter (with a mini-Jake POV).  I had a lot written and didn’t want to post a massive chapter compared to the others, I want to keep the length fairly consistent. Thankfully, this means the next chapter is practically half-done.

Enjoy!

Since he’d woken up, Quaritch had made an effort to keep his mind occupied. For some time, he searched anywhere he could reach, trying to find a weakness in his prison’s design; a loose section in the wall, a forgotten tool, maybe a rock he could use to work away at his bindings. But Sully had done his job well, and the hut was completely devoid of anything not dedicated to keeping him where he was. Even his vest, which had contained various emergency tools for such a situation, was gone. As was most of his equipment. He’d been left with nothing but his undershirt and pants.

Once his escape plans had been foiled, and when it became clear his death wasn’t imminent, Quaritch switched his focus to passing the time. After all he was clearly meant to be here for the long haul.

He’d briefly attempted some exercises, but his wounds and tightly bound legs made that a non-starter.

Eventually he settled on counting the rings on the tree the hut was structured around and trying to catch various sounds from the outside. It was mind numbing but still something.

Eventually, despite his efforts, thoughts on how absolutely fucked he was started to creep in. As far as he knew, he was presumed dead by the RDA. None of his squad had been left on the ship in those final moments, and he doubted the RDA was eager to launch another ship into enemy territory to recover the wreck and bodies from the last…

And then there was the matter of Spider. When he first woke up, he’d been primarily concerned with Spiders well-being. He still was, but as the hours passed, he began to feel the actual lack of Spider’s presence more and more.

As far as he could tell, at least a full day had passed since the battle. He’d never been away from Spider this long since they’d met in the jungle all those months ago, and the more time he spent alone in the damp, stuffy shack, the more he missed having the kid around.

He missed that bright, genuine smile Spider briefly flashed when he was happy. He missed the passion he had whenever he was explaining something about life on Pandora. Hell, he even missed Spider’s sass and insults, the ones that somehow made him both irksome and endearing.

He grinned in the half-dark as he remembered a few of Spider’s “greatest hits”. Goddamn, he didn’t know when let himself become such a sap when it came to the kid. It pissed him off a bit, but he didn’t mind too much.  

If he ever got out of here…

“Let me through.”

Quaritch quickly recomposed himself as he heard a familiar voice behind the flap that served as the hut’s door.

Sully

Quaritch steeled himself. Was this it? If it was, he wasn’t going down without a fight, however weak it may be.

The flap lifted and Sully stepped through, holding a pair of bowls in his hands. And if looks could kill, face Sully wore would have easily sent Quaritch back to hell.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, each trying to put as much contempt into their face as they could.

“Quaritch.” Jake broke the silence.

“Sully. It’s about time you showed up, I was starting to get bored.”

Sully looked like he was about to say something, but bit his lip, and placed the two bowls down in front of the bars. One held water, the other some kind of stew.

Food and water? What the hell?

“What’s this Sully? Trying to fatten me up before the slaughter?”

“You will have food and water while you are kept here.” Sully replied almost robotically, clearly trying to keep himself in check.

“Speaking of here, would you mind telling me why you decided to ‘graciously’ spare my life and dump me in this shithole instead?” Quaritch said, intently keeping his eyes focused on Sully. Truthfully, he wanted the food and especially the water, but there’s no way he was letting Sully know that.

Sully visibly sighed, then spoke, trying to keep his voice level.

“When you surrendered on the Sea Dragon, you asked Eywa’s mercy. As a surrendered warrior, you could not be killed, by Eywa’s laws.”

Surrendered? Asking for mercy?

Hearing Sully describe him like that enraged Quaritch, but he held his tongue for now. He still had to know more about his situation.

“So has your Eywa god commanded you to keep me in jail?”

“Only until your trial.”

Quaritch’s breath hitched at the words.

Trial?

You’ve gotta be shitting me.

“A trial? What trial?” Quaritch responded, his rage starting to seep into his words.

“13 days from now, when the monthly cycle ends, you will be brought before the Na’vi people and judged for your crimes against them, and Eywa.”

With that, Quaritch couldn’t hide his rage anymore.

“Oh, it’s not enough for you to beat me, is it Sully? Now you want to parade me in front of all the blue bastards in town?! You going to tar and feather me before you chop my head off?!”

“You are being shown respect by being granted a trial!” Sully hissed, his own rage bubbling. “Respect you don’t deserve, but Eywa grants you anyways!”

“You should have killed me on that ship Sully.” Quaritch spat. “Spared me the humiliation. But I guess you’re more of a maniac than I thought.”

“I would have Quaritch, believe me.” Said Jake, collecting himself as he turned to leave.

As he watched the other man turn, a thought forced its way into the front of Quaritch’s mind.

Spider

He had to know something.

Before he had time to think, he spoke.

“How are the kids, Sully?” He cringed internally as soon as the rushed words left his mouth.

(…)

Jake stopped midway across the hut’s forward half.

Huh?

Was Quaritch trying to goad him over Neteyam? The way he had spoken made the question sound … almost sincere? Why would Quaritch care about any of his kids?

Jake wasn’t going to stand here and ask himself those questions now, though. Not with Quaritch behind him.

“They’re all fine, Quaritch. No thanks to you.”

Jake knew it wasn’t exactly true, but he wasn’t about to discuss his family’s issues with his worst enemy.

He covered the rest of the distance to the door and quickly left.

(…)

Quaritch caught a glimpse of the outside world as he watched Sully leave. It was sunset, there was a beach, a village…

The canvas flap locked him back into the hut’s world.

He lay on his back and let out a long sigh. He had a lot to think about.

Goddamn traitorous asshole. Thinks he’s high and mighty with his “Eywa” and “trials”.

So, he had an expiration date. He didn’t know what this so-called “trial” implied, but it couldn’t be anything good. He had no doubt what judgement he’d get, and he had no doubt what would happen to him after.

13 days to live. No hope of rescue…

Quaritch reminded himself not to focus to much on his prospects. The last thing he wanted was to go crazy and be led to his death as a lunatic.

The rest of the conversation…

He cringed again over his stupid final question. He’d sounded like he’d lost the plot. What the hell was he thinking?

Maybe he’s going crazy already.

At least he knew Spider wasn’t locked up like him, he assumed Sully would have let him know if he was. Quaritch knew Spider though, and very much doubted he was “fine”. He’d seen Spider when he was “fine” before. On the Sea Dragon during the village raids. In the jungle. It wasn’t good. He felt the urge to talk with Spider, as if he wasn’t so close yet so far.

As he turned his attention to the food Sully had left, he wished more than before ever he could see Spider again, even for just a moment.

Things are certainly not fine for anyone in this story at the moment ☹️. 

I’m overjoyed at the response this has gotten so far. I’m not a huge writer by any means, so this truly means so much to me! 🥺 Thank you to everyone who has read!

[diludae]

Kind of an odd one, but could I request a scenario with Diluc's s/o trying to (hilariously, but unsuccessfully) matchmake Adelinde and Elzer on Valentine's Day, and Diluc has to intervene before the antics get too out of hand?

𝓣𝓸 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓪𝓲𝓭 (𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸𝓸!)

I had a lot fun writing this, but I might've gone a tad-off prompt. I apologize!

diluc x gn!reader // fluff/comedy // anon suggestion // enjoy <3

They were absolutely perfect for each other.

Or at least, in your mind they were perfect.

The way in which Elzer so graciously offers his hand to Adelinde to help with laundry, or when they constantly compliment each others work, or the way they always walk home together during the dead of night, or-

Maybe you thought about the two employees a little too often.

But as the early-February wind blew throughout the vineyard, you could practically smell love kindling in the air. You were of course busy with countless dates prepared by the wine tycoon himself, your loving and always doting boyfriend of 2 years, Diluc Ragnvindr. However, this Valentines, you wished on a fallen star that maybe you and ‘Luc wouldn’t be the only ones celebrating at the winery.

To be honest, you really had no idea why Adelinde and Elzer’s non-existent love life meant so much to you. Perhaps you had finally felt the joy of being with someone you truly love, and wanted to share that delightful experience with others. Maybe a teeny-little part of you wanted to take credit for matchmaking such a beautiful bride and groom at their eventual wedding. Whatever the case was, you wanted to see them together no later than the fourteenth. You could never let the once-a-year love season pass such an adoring and pining future spark.

It started with small, not-so-subtle hints. Elzer and Adelinde were surprisingly quite oblivious to the increase in tasks they had to perform together by the end of the day. Along with participating in their daily activities, the two found themselves spending their time assisting one another with paperwork and dusting. It wasn’t long before the Master of the estate took notice of the odd tasks his darling Y/n filed for requests.

“Love, could I… speak with you for a moment?”

You wondered what he could possibly need to speak with you about. I mean, he has been slightly needy with the rise of couples filling the streets, but there wasn’t anything you two couldn’t handle.

As you walked with him towards your bedroom you noticed the slight awkward tone in his movements. The way he only ever-so-slightly fidgeted with his gloves, or the look in his eyes holding one of embarrassment. He kindly opened the bedroom door and gestured you inside.

“I’ve seen the tasks you’ve been assigning to Adelinde and Elzer. My dear, do you care to explain?”

Shit.

“Well, I- I mean it’s like only slightly a little complicated..” Diluc could hear you trailing out your incoherent response with slews of “uh’s” and awkward chuckles.

“Now, this is a complete guess, but would I be correct to assume you’re trying to… get them together?”

While your mouth remained silent, your bright red face communicated all that needed to be said.

“My love,” Diluc grabbed a hold of your waist and gently pulled you down to the bed. He nuzzled his face in your hair as you wrapped your arms around him. “You really shouldn’t be meddling with other people’s business, you know.” “I get it, I get it.” Your voice was muffled as Diluc held your head against his broad chest. “But also, they just seem so cute and fluffy together. I’m not sure, maybe I’m in over my head, but I deeply enjoy the time I spend with you. So, I thought it would be cool if maybe other people could have that same feeling of warmth with someone they also love..”

Diluc’s expression was unreadable, yet his grip around your body tightening spoke for him. A kiss was planted on your forehead as you felt the bed’s covers reaching over the two of you. “I sincerely thank you for your affection, liebling. Get some rest. We’ll talk more about this in the morning”

If only you two had noticed the mischievous maid and butler listening in from outside the door, giggling at your less than stellar attempt, yet still touched by the action.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3.5/5

Book Blurb: Love and Vanity meets Succession in a clever, funny, and romantic uplit about wealth, power, family, and love from rising star Lily Chu.

For Dee Kwan, every day is the perfect day. No, really. She has a house she loves, a job she adores, and a ridiculously attractive “nemesis” who never seems to mind when she wins their favorite online game. How can life possibly get better? (It can’t, obviously. It can only get much, much worse.)

Soon Dee is forced to share her adorably cozy home with her parents and prickly estranged grandmother. Then she's tossed into the deep end, tasked with cleaning up a scandal for intimidatingly chic luxury fashion firm Celeste. If that weren’t enough, she discovers her hot-nemesis works there, too…and Teddy is nothing like the man she thought she knew.

Before she can cry foul, Teddy comes clean about his double life: he’s the heir to the CEO and he needs her help to make Celeste a better place—for everyone. But that means taking down the old guard—including his father—intent on standing in their way. Now in the center of a dizzying corporate coup, Dee is forced to decide whether she’s ready to stop watching the world through rose-colored glasses and instead face the truth: about herself, about her feelings for Teddy, and about what she’s willing to do to truly make a difference.

DEE KWAN’S SECRETS FOR A HAPPY LIFE:

Always remain positive, no matter the cost

Realize that every setback is a hidden opportunity

Accept compliments graciously, especially when given by mega-hot rivals

Never, ever question whether any of these mantras actually work

Review:

What happens when you start your new job you find out that the guy you're crushing on is actually the CEO's son and the company you are working at has a huge diversity and misogyny issue? Drama. Dee Kwan loves her life, she's got her dream job, she's got a house she adores, and a very hot "nemesis" on her favorite online puzzle game. Yet that all takes a turn when her job is shut down, her parents and grandma move into her house, and now at her new job she is forced to clean up a scandal for an intimidating chic luxury fashion firm... and to top it off, when she finally meets her hot nemesis and starts falling for him... she discovers he is the heir to the CEO of the problematic company she is working at. Dee wants so badly to make a change at the fashion firm Celeste, but with so many superiors who are standing in her way and the constant battle to even get change for the bare minimum... Dee is fighting a battle she never thought she'd face. From dealing with terrible superiors, secretly dating the one guy who is off limits, and trying to find a way to fix the diversity and terrible practices of the company, Dee has her plate full. Her positive optimism can only take her so far before the cracks begin to show and when things get worse... Dee will have to see if she's willing to risk her job and the guy she's falling for, to do the right thing. I loved the author's previous two books and this one felt like a departure from the other two as this one was less romantic and much more job drama. It started off really cute and I did love Dee and Teddy together, yet the romance kind of fell off into the background and took a step back to the job drama that Dee was going through. This didn't feel like a romance book, it felt much more like women's fiction and I feel like if I had known that going in I would have held my expectations more. The story itself was okay, I just felt like I was expecting a romance and I barely got one. I did like that the book addresses diversity issues in companies and the practices that some companies have, and I also had fun with the fashion industry element, I just kind of wish there was a bit more. It's a good contemporary book for sure, I just think you should know what to expect before going in so you don't get the wrong hopes up.

*Thanks Netgalley and SOURCEBOOKS Casablanca | Sourcebooks Casablanca for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Alister interested in a servant working st the phantomhive mansion and won't relent.

he's so annoying lol but we love him XD

Oh, the man is a fucking pest to begin with. As if there was any doubt. He visits Ciel’s estate for the most asinine of reasons so that he has an excuse to see (Name), and he’s an absolute hindrance to them and the other servants doing their jobs. He is constantly in the way as he tries to get their attention or give them gifts. It would be a miracle if the entire household isn’t well and sick of him within a week of his attempts at courting this poor worker.

Speaking of gifts, has (Name) ever seen any more useless, strange, ostentatious things in their whole life than the presents he gives them? Some of them might be romantic and beautiful, but they’re all either over-the-top or aren’t things that this servant would have any use for. A new gown or suit? They obviously don’t attend balls unless they’re working, so they have no event to wear it to. Is he going to invite a lowly servant to a ball just so they can model it for him? (Wait, no, don’t give him ideas.) A ‘promise’ ring that’s ornate enough to have multiple inlaid stones? Well, although it’s very pretty, it catches on fabric or other things while they’re using their hands to go about their duties, so it interferes with their work. Even if he thought about what kind of stones or colors they’d like, did he think about the practical part of it? Of course not. They end up with a drawer full of gifts, or gifts shoved under their bed, because he’s given them so much junk they can’t use.

He just wants them to give him a chance! For whatever unfathomable reason, it doesn’t register to him that he’s making a nuisance of himself and that (Name) might prefer to be left alone. It doesn’t hit him that they might be worried his incessant pursuit of them will be annoying to their master and lead to Ciel dismissing them from service. Regardless of how realistic that fear is, (Ciel’s staff turnover is laughably low), they’re still anxious about it. They try very hard to ignore Aleister’s advances, hoping that will dissuade him from continuing to pop into the estate uninvited.

Finally, he sort of corners them during one of Ciel’s parties. There they are, working away, and then… there he is, sweeping them off their feet, onto the dance floor. He comes over with the excuse of getting a glass of champagne or wine or whatever from the tray they’re carrying. Before they know it, he’s somehow managed to grab the tray, set it down somewhere, and capture them in a dance. Imagine a finely dressed noble waltzing among the rest of high society, with his partner being a servant who’s dressed like a servant and who clearly wasn’t expecting to be spun around tonight. It’s almost funny, how much of a shit he doesn’t give about what’s going on around them or who’s saying what about them behind their backs. All he cares about is that he has a romantic moment with them, at long last.

Well, they can’t very well just ignore him anymore after that little stunt. So the next time he shows up at the manor, their master has graciously allowed them to handle it; if they want him to throw The Right Honourable Viscount Druitt out on his arse and forbid him from entering the property again (or at least try to), he’ll order Sebastian to do so happily. But if they want to speak to the bastard, that’s at their discretion. They practically greet him at the door, pulling him into some reasonably isolated enclave to have a discussion. “Alright, Lord Chamber. You have my attention.” “Do I, now? That’s all I’ve been after.” “… Yes, well. Now that you have my attention, if you’re going to do anything with it, get it over with so I may return to my duties in peace.”

This is, of course, followed by Aleister seizing the opportunity the only way he can think to do so ― by taking them in his arms and giving them a passionate kiss. He has to take the opportunity whilst he has it, doesn’t he? With any luck, the sudden push will make him charming instead of irritating, and… hopefully (Name) will want to see him again. Maybe he’ll learn how to behave himself better, in time.

[thought-42]

Fictober Day 2: “Nobody warned you about me?”

Critical Role, Laerryn, Patia, 903 words

"Nobody warned you about me?" Laerryn asks, legitimately kind of surprised. The Keeper of Scrolls laughs into her wine glass.

"On the contrary. Several people warned me about you, which is precisely why I wanted to meet you in person."

Laerryn kicks the heel of her boot up against the low stone wall surrounding the balcony and takes a deliberately small sip of her own drink. She's weirdly aware of their height disparity, the way even in heels Archmage Por'co has to look up to meet her gaze. Eye contact is a thing she's been trying, on her academic advisor's recommendation, and she's not loving it. "You basically said my paper on the time discrepancy of tunnelling particles during circle teleportation was bullshit."

"Then they should do a better job at anonymizing it, that's not my problem."

Laerryn's regretting the three drinks she'd downed in order to survive this party before she'd realised Patia Por'co was going to be in attendance. And definitely before getting cornered alone on a balcony by her.

"I thought your paper was fascinating," says Por'co. "If, perhaps, a touch reductive in application."

Laerryn bristles. "The fuck--" Por'co raises one elegant eyebrow. Laerryn snaps her teeth together so hard she catches the tip of her tongue, needle sting pain arcing across her nerves to mix with the itch of her jacket and the numbness of the whisky and the heat of self-consciousness. "Might I impose upon you to elaborate?" Laerryn says, after a long moment where Por'co makes it blatantly apparent that she's allowing Laerryn time to gather her composure.

"I would like nothing more," she says, mildly. "Primarily, and on a general level, I'd be interested to engage with your ideas for moving the theoretical into the practical for the betterment of the city."

"I would think you, of all people, would appreciate the value of knowledge for knowledge's sake," Laerryn says. She’s very proud of the civility overlying her incredulity.

Por'co inclines her head and begins walking back toward the glass doors. Laerryn pushes off the wall and almost trips over her own feet trying to follow without overtaking her.

"I apologise if I've given the impression I don't value knowledge," Por'co says, tone heavy with the implication that she is graciously allowing Laerryn a chance to recover from a clumsy verbal misstep. "I simply expect that a mind as prodigious as yours might be capable of consideration of the practical and theoretical simultaneously.”

Por'co pauses at the doors, and it only takes Laerryn a few seconds to register the implicit expectation that she open them for the older mage.

"I of course have the best interests of the city in mind in all of the work I do," Laerryn lies. "But we do ourselves a disservice if we restrain our ideas to that which holds utility we can already conceptualise."

"I wouldn't call that restraint," says Por'co, "so much as I would practicality."

Laerryn's hands, even to this day, hold calluses from gripping a sword that was always a bit too heavy. She's seen the statue of Por'co's grandfather. She doesn't think practicality is the shield from which she should be throwing stones.

"I'm afraid I still don't understand why you wanted to meet me," Laerryn says.

Por'co stops so fast Laerryn almost knocks into her. This time, Laerryn is hyper-aware of the way she has to lower her own gaze to meet Por'co's.

"I think you have a singular intelect," Por'co says. "And I think you are being allowed to spin your wheels in bogs of aimless, theoretical academia because everyone around you is either too intimidated by you or too ready to under-estimate you because of your age to do anything about it."

"I mean, this has been my life's work for twenty years, but go off I guess," Laerryn says, flatly.

"You have the potential to achieve great things," Por'co tells her. "But you're never going to do so if you linger in thought experiments and publishing contests, flitting around to whatever unsolvable problem catches your interest."

"Maybe I like unsolvable problems," Laerryn says.

Por'co reaches out and takes one of Laerryn's hands in her own well-manicured ones. "I have no doubt you do. But I don't think you want to live a life where the only tools at your disposal are a pen and paper. I've done my homework on you, you could be someone of rank in the Artificing Guild by now if you so chose."

"I could also be one of the Knights of Avalir by now, if I so chose," Laerryn mimics. She can feel all the blood rushing to her cheeks and she knows she's lashing out reflexively but there's also nothing she can do about it.

"And either option would suit you better than lurking in the stacks of a library for the rest of your life. Some of us are well-suited to those stacks. You are not."

Her hands are very soft and up close she smells like ozone and static, like the raw potential of ether barely leashed. Laerryn wonders if she should be afraid.

"So what are you offering?" she asks. "I'm a little beyond apprenticeship and I already have an advisor within the university."

Por'co smiles at her and Laerryn thinks, just for a second, there is something hungry and fierce behind her eyes. "Why formalise it? I'm simply offering you something I suspect you have very little of. Friendship."

[darkcowboypirate]

SDV x Reader pt. 1 The battle of the trio

“If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.”

You read the letter in your hands aloud as if to make it seem more real. ‘Finally found a way out’ You thought. Robin had just left you alone in the cabin Grandpa had left for you. It seemed too dull. You felt alone. Just like you always had working for Joja in the city. Exactly what you were running away from.

You had friends in the city but you never truly felt like you could connect with any of them. As a kid you had always dreamed of living on Grandpa’s farm. You would visit on holidays and always had the most amazing time helping around and playing in the trees. You loved the sounds of the chickens and cows in the distance. After the last trip a couple years ago you decided you weren’t cut out for the city life. You were  a small town girl. From then on you distanced myself from anyone and everything. You knew you weren’t going to stick around.

‘But now I don’t even know how to get started’ You thought as you scanned the land from outside my window. ‘Look at this mess’

Thankfully the Mayor left a few seeds for me and that was just enough to push me to step outside and get working. As soon as you stepped outside you practically moaned at how nice the clean air was. ‘Oh how I missed this place’

After (not so graciously) planting the parsnips you thought back to your earlier mind. ‘I need to find some friends’ You sighed at how nerdy you sounded. ‘First, to the store. I need to see what other seeds I can get. The more money the better’

You walked towards town and gawked at how beautiful and serene it was. ‘So glad I decided to come out here’ You sighed loudly. Heavily. Then you started making the steps towards the shop with the word ‘Pierre’s’ written in huge letters above it. As you walked in you could hear the slight sound of a bell and on instinct followed the sound with your eyes. It was coming from behind a kind looking man with glasses. You would think that you’d know some people around here considering you were out here a lot as a kid but you never really left the farm. You always stayed close to the cabin so this was a new face. ‘I hope he introduces himself’ and almost as if on cue...

“Hey! Welcome to Pierre’s! You must be the new farmer.” his soft subtle voice rang. You couldn’t tell if he was nervous or overly excited by the huge smile on his face. Like almost creepily big smile. “Yeah. Hi. Im y/n. Just wanted to see what seeds you could offer me for cheap. I’m running low on funds thanks to the travel costs and whatnot” You say. Definitely a lot more shy than he had originally spoken. He lets out a loud chuckle. “Yeah. Cheap. I’m already losing business thanks to that Joja store opening up.” He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Sorry hun. No can do. I was hopin’ you’d come in with some money in your pockets.” So that’s why his smile was so big. ‘Money grubber’ you thought. Even though you probably shouldn’t have considered you came in here practically asking for free shit since you’re broke. You’d be doing the same.

“Dad. Be nice. She could obviously use a little help getting started in this town” A girl. A really pretty girl. You couldn’t help but grin. She grins back. Her smile slightly cocked more to one side than the other. ‘A new friend?’ Her hair was a bright lavender purple. Very unnatural but it matched her unnaturally purple eyes. ‘Dad? He looks so normal compared to her.’ 

“You’re probably going to make way more money off of selling her crops later on then you’re going to lose giving her a few seeds” Your head turns and boom green hair. Tied into two braids. ‘MORE COLOR?!’ You thought trying not to let your jaw drop. Instead you take in the rest of the person who had just spoken. She seemed to be a little bit older. Her eyes were purple too. As she rests upon the door frame with a flat face she opens her mouth to speak once more. “My names Caroline dear. If he doesn’t give you some seeds I’ll have to apologize through tea sometime” She says. Her flat face contorting into more of a smile. A gentle one. Unlike the others I’ve seen so far. As you go to open your own mouth to introduce myself you’re cut off.

“And I’m Abigail. Caroline’s my mom” Her mom? That explains why she looks so different from Pierre. She reaches out a hand for a handshake and as I reach mine out she cheeses. The most adorable smile I’ve ever seen. “I’m y/n. The new farmer. You guys are all super pretty” You say. Trying to compliment them hoping we can become friends.

“y/n… I like that name. Oh and you’re really pretty too!”

“Not like you guys are” You sigh “Your hair and eyes are just so hypnotizing”

“Oh c’mon. Like yours aren’t”

“She’s right dear. You’re positively glowing” Caroline says now moved closer to the front of the counter. 

“Oh stop you. I’m blushing” You’re absolutely positutely blushing and smiling from ear to ear.

“You wanna blush more? My friends and I are gonna be at Gus’ tonight if you wanna drop by and meet them. Their jaws will drop when they see you” Abigail butts in. “Here take my number down and I’ll let you know when we’re all there.” You hand her your phone and your hands touch briefly. She drops it. ‘What a clumsy girl’ I think to myself. She bends down to pick it up while apologizing profusely then puts her number in. You’re too giddy to remember why you went there in the first place so you return home to shower. 

After wrapping a towel around yourself  you hear a buzz come from my phone on the sinks counter. I pick it up to see a text from… It’s just a black heart. No name for the contact. You open it up.

we’re actually gonna head to gus’ early. we’re heading there now ;)

‘Ahhh. Abigail. What a sweetheart. Can’t wait to be friends with her’ You quickly throw on one of your favorite dresses. It’s nothing special but it’s the only one with pockets so it feels more ‘small town eske’. You walk out the door realizing you don’t quite know what Gus’ is. You hadn’t walked anywhere else other than the small store.

Uhhh.. This is embarrassing but… What’s Gus’

OMG i can’t believe i didn’t tell you. its the saloon right below my dads shop

‘I do remember seeing that’ You question whether or not you��re dressed for a saloon but decide against changing. ‘I’m already somewhat late and I’m just gonna be meeting friends anyways’ You smile to yourself and trek your way towards ‘Gus’’. As you open the door there’s quite a lot of hustle and bustle going on. You don’t see Abigail anywhere before you feel a light tap on your shoulder.

“I thought I saw you over here! Hey! Follow me!” There she is. You follow her into a pocket room outside from the bar itself when you see two guys standing around a pool table. There’s a blonde who’s too focused on the game to notice you walking towards him. He was wiggling his butt trying to settle down for the shot while his tongue stuck out slightly from the side of his mouth. ‘What a goober’ Then there’s the one with pitch black hair. He’s practically cackling at his friend face towards the ceiling when he looks down towards your direction. His smile fading into a dull eye contact and then his eyes settle on the blonde again. You turn to face Abigail who’s walking beside you. 

“-re great people I promise you.” She says. She was obviously been talking to you while you were staring at the two gorgeous men in front of you. 

“I’m sure they are. I’m really excited to make some friends around here.” You say guessing what she was talking about. She simply nods her head with a smirk forming on her lips.

“Did I hear someone say ‘friend’?” The blonde one whips around to face you after taking a shot and missing. “Screw the game. I’m Sam. Nice to meet ya.” He smiles. Widely. Almost like Pierre’s smile earlier but this smile you can read. He’s so bright and happy how couldn’t you read it.

“y/n. Nice to meet ya too.” You give him a smile back although not nearly as stunningly as he had just done. Then he’s eyeing you up and down. Multiple times.

“You were right Abby. She is gorgeous. Thought your bisexuality was just comin’ out for a second. With how you think all girls are pretty and all.” He throws a cheeky wink towards Abigail but she doesn’t see it because she’s glaring at the dark haired guy that’s still lining up his shot on the pool table.

“Seb.” She says sternly. Not fluctuating her facial expression. “Don’t be rude.” He scoffs then nods in your direction as if to say hi. Then he’s looking back down at the pool table and taking his shot. He landed the 8 ball in the right corner pocket and sets his que down. You watch him walk over to the couch and manspread as he sits down without giving you another glance. ‘There’s one person I can’t make friends with’ You think to yourself. A little (a lot) dissatisfied your face subtly turns down into a slight frown when Sam notices and brings you in for a big ‘ol hug. 

“Don’t mind him. He’s grumpy right now. He doesn’t like people.”

“Yeah don’t mind him. His name’s Sebastian but if you wanna get under his skin call him Seb. He hates it” Abigail chimes in giggling with her hand in front of her face.

“I can hear you fuckers.” He finally chimes in. “Don’t call me Seb.”

“Now I’m starting to think he thinks you’re pretty too. Maybe that’s why he’s bein’ a bully. Seems I may have some competition.” Sam winks at you then pulls you towards the couch next to the one Sebastian’s sitting on. ‘No need for competition. I need a bunch of friends’ You think to yourself.

“I’m getting some drinks. You want some y/n?” Abigail pipes in.

“That’d be great. I’ll take a beer. Thanks Abby.” You say. Not realizing you had picked up on her nickname. She didn’t detest just smiled brightly at you. Throughout the rest of the night you have a pizza and one too many drinks while giggling with your new friends Sam and ‘Abby’. Sebastian doesn’t say another thing to you for the rest of the night while going back and forth between pool and outside smoking. Once the night raps up you stumble outside with everyone. Sam offers to walk you home and you gratefully accept his offer.

“Why don’t I take her? I’m the most sober one here and it’s kind of on my way” you hear a voice chime. Almost daring someone to deny it. You turn around not so gracefully to see Sebastian glaring daggers at Sam. ‘Aw they’re such good friends’

“Aw c’mon man. I just wanna spend a little more time with her. Get to know her a little more” you hear Sam say. He’s beaming his huge adorable attractive smile again. It’s contagious. Sebastian looks at you flat faced and then grabs your wrist pulling you away from the group. He notices you’re still stumbling so he squats down with his hands backwards. “Hop on.” You hop on his back wrapping your legs around his waist as he begins to walk off towards the farm.

“Text me when you guys get home safe!” You hear Abby yell from a distance. Sebastian turns around to give her a nod but he turns too fast making your head spin eliciting a groan from your lips.

“Sorry about that doll. I’ll try to be more careful.” He says acknowledging what he had just done. ‘Seems I’ve warmed him up to me’ You blush knowing you had finally made him a friend. 

As you walk up to your door you scramble to get off his back to walk inside but he just holds on tighter with his one arm while using the other to open the door in front of you. He walks you inside and gently lets you down on your bed giving you a soft goodnight and reminding you to text Abby when you can. He then leaves turning off your lights on the way out. You pick up your phone to see you already have a text. From an unknown number.

[ericwenninger]

Anne Lamott's book, Bird by Bird, is a helpful and honest guide for writing fiction. She pulls back the curtains to confirm what we all already know about writing. It's hard! Lamott paints the writing process as one riddled with insecurity, self-doubt, and despair. But she does so with a light heart and a whole lot of humor.

Her chapter on jealousy stood out to me as one of the most insightful and one of the funniest. In it she describes a severe bout of jealousy she experienced when a less-skilled writer friend started to have a lot more success than her. She writes:

My therapist said that jealousy is a secondary emotion, that it is born out of feeling excluded and deprived, and that if I worked on those age-old feelings, I would probably break through the jealousy. (...) She said it was once again that business of comparing my insides to other people's outsides. She said to go ahead and feel the feelings. I did. They felt like shit.

She goes on to detail the small pieces of advice that strung together a solution for her jealousy. I would summarize this string of advice as follows:

Show grace to yourself and others, knowing that we will all die someday

Practice mindfulness to get a little better day by day

Use humor to make negative feelings funny

Accept negative feelings and defuse their impact on you

Talk and write about your feelings

I'm a big believer in using strategies from Stoicism (see "7 Stoic Lessons on Living Life to Its Fullest") and ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) to overcome any negative emotion that is preventing you from experiencing more fulfillment in life. This is exactly the stuff Lamott used to move past her jealousy. After putting these strategies into practice, she was able to reach a point of compassion for herself and for her friend, with whom she graciously decided to part ways. She writes:

And finally I felt that my jealousy and I were strangely beautiful...

The very day I read this chapter I learned of another resolution to a conflict involving shades of jealousy. In early June, Charli xcx released her album, BRAT. On the song, "Girl, so confusing," she addresses an unnamed artist and the struggles she experiences in their relationship. Immediately following the song's release, many speculated that the artist she was referring to was Lorde. This was confirmed when just two weeks later, Charli xcx released a follow-up single, "The girl, so confusing version with lorde." On the remix, Lorde actually has a verse in which she responds to Charli's lyrics about their relationship. She responds, in part:

Well, honestly, I was speechless When I woke up to your voice note You told me how you’d been feeling Let's work it out on the remix You’d always say, “Let’s go out” But then I’d cancel last minute I was so lost in my head And scared to be in the pictures ’Cause for the last couple years I’ve been at war in my body I tried to starve myself thinner And then I gained all the weight back I was trapped in the hatred And your life seemed so awesome I never thought for a second My voice was in your head

This is still pop music. Such a public display of resolving conflict is going to promote the work of both artists, and as the song suggests, "make the internet go crazy." But I hear the dialogue between Charli xcx and Lorde as being vulnerable and honest. The very act of putting your work out into the world makes you vulnerable. The song's subject matter brings me back to what Lamott's therapist told her about jealousy:

She said it was once again that business of comparing my insides to other people's outsides.

I try to remind myself on a daily basis that everyone I encounter is experiencing some kind of suffering, even those who appear to be happy and successful. Often times their sufferings are internal and go unnoticed, maybe even to the closest of friends. Knowing this can help us all give one another a bit more grace, reconcile the conflicts that divide us, and ultimately, reach the potential that each of us carries.