#okay now that I have complained my woes away. focus time. I will maybe take pics before leaving to show yall the fit & etc but we shall see

[dragonji]

getting ready for concert rn (yes it's not for another 2 hours. I Do in fact need all of that time to get ready for it<3) but anyways I'm trying to decided if/what makeup I want to do and my eyelids have Already started itching over just the thought of it. Cmon man I just want to look hot can we get it together

[ruinaimagines]

hihihi can I get a netzachxreader scenario where netz comforts the reader after a rough day? thanks! -🦷

Hello again 🦷 anon! Of course I can. Sorry it’s been a bit late for me to get to these requests but here it is nonetheless. Enjoy!

Netzach Comforting Reader who had a Rough Day:

Everything just seems to feel so heavy today, even the tasks of which you almost never have a struggle with. Frustration seems to keep creeping up on you, leading to a stiff and irritated composure. You know these things aren’t that difficult, you’ve done them hundreds of times before, so why does everything have to feel so hard now?

It’s easy to not realize how much mood actually impacts how you perceive the environment around you. It was an unpleasant reception, a troublesome break, and now you’re left to deal with some draining book sorting. The air feels stuffy, it’s a bit too humid and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, and it feels like even the slightest mistake is about to send you over the edge.

You know that to an outside eye it just seems like you’re being dramatic, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that it just feels like every little thing is out to get you. Perhaps it was because you’re overthinking about something, or just a rude encounter left your day off to a bad start, maybe nothing specific caused this reaction.

It’s pretty easy for others to tell you’re quite tense, and you’re woefully aware of that. The reasons as to how they figured it out could range from your sluggish movement, upset expression, or general behavior. You’ve had one or two other librarians come up and ask if you’re alright, though you always keep it brief and say you’re doing okay. You don’t want to possibly drag them into the same mood as you.

You weren’t left alone for long though because a certain patron librarian seemed to be rather adamant on checking in. “..Need anything?” He enters so silently that it’s almost impossible to notice him until he speaks.

Netzach walks up to you as you sigh, exhausted even though you hardly had anything to do throughout the day. “Yeah everything’s good, just feeling a bit rocky.” You raise your hands to your face, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

The green haired man stares at you for a little bit before walking over and wrapping a loose arm around you. “I think it’s a bit of a gloomy day for everyone. Not gonna press ‘cause I know how annoying it is when people nag, but if anythings up you know you can come to me.”

He lazily leans his head over your shoulder, looking at the open book you picked up in your hand. He traces his eyes over the words, but hardly processes them. To him they’re all just a bunch of scribbled out letters, and it’s the same mess in your brain.

“I know, It’s honestly not too big. Today’s just kinda felt awful, and I don’t wanna pull you into things with endless complaining and ranting.” You flip a page after you finish the last, wedge a bookmark in between the papers, and clamp it shut.

Netzach hummed, a bit of an amused smile on his face as he shut his eyes, leaning into his embrace of you. “No big deal.. I mean all through being a sephirah and the beginning of this library all I really did is make people sit and listen to my woes. It’s only fair for me to hear you out.. Plus I’d rather you talk about it instead of let it be all pent up.”

Placing the closed book atop an empty shelf you returned the hug. “Guess you’re right. It honestly feels like I’m stuck in mud, just taking one step is extremely and unnecessarily exhausting. It’s like I’m tired, but I don’t even know why. My focus has been terrible, and that’s only made things worse because now every little thing irritates me. I want to have a moment to breathe, but when I even try it just feels like the air is so suffocating. Everything’s just building up and I feel like I’m ready to burst.”

He’s a good listener and he only tightens his hold when he hears the words spill out of your mouth. From the start of your morning to the moment you’re standing there, every detail is revealed. It does feel a bit relieving to let off some pressure, but you’re still overwhelmed.

He doesn’t speak until you’ve stopped, not wanting to interrupt you as you speak. “Honestly? A lot of the time I feel the exact same way. Feels like you just wanna give up ‘cause when you’re trying it’s like every little thing is going astray. It isn’t good to discredit how you feel though, even if it’s over something minimal. If you wanna cry then do so, I mean I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve broken down.” There was another slightly entertained smile on his face, one that wasn’t extremely happy, but not too bittersweet either. “I mean you’ve experienced it, the whole ‘Sephirah meltdown’. I Was not in a good place. But look at me now, I’m still here, yeah?”

His voice travels in a light tone, one that’s a bit slow but also comforting. “‘Point I’m trying to make is that you shouldn’t feel alone or bad when things suck, ‘cause they do suck sometimes. You’re not alone, you got me and plenty others. Why not take a little break?.. I’m not the best at making drinks, but I can try to make you some tea. ‘Promise I’ll try not to burn the water.”

For as pessimistic as he is, he sure is quite capable of cheering someone up. You continue to hold onto him before departing and sliding into a chair. Your posture is miserable as you’re halfway slanted in your seating, but it doesn’t matter to you.

“You know what? Why not? Maybe something warm can help clear up the fog in my head.” Perhaps a drink could also help smooth out your senses and give you a moment to sit and recuperate your energy. Before the patron librarian left though, you had one more question to ask. “Hey Netzach, do you think Angela would kill us if we took a walk around the library? I just need to get out of this place, a change of scenery and some fresher air could be nice.”

He responds rather nonchalantly, not concerned by your question at all. “Eh, we’ll be good. I mean, I somehow get away with sleeping on the job all the time.. Doubt we’ll be punished for walking around.. We could say that we’re delivering a message to another librarian and that should work… given that she’s not listening right now.”

There’s a looming moment of silence as you both wait in anticipation for Angela to pop up out of nowhere through the sound of snapping fingers as she usually does. However after there seems to be no such event, the two of you shrug.

“Sounds good! And thank you for listening, I know you say it’s not much for you to do, but it means a lot for me.” It would feel wrong for you to not show some form of appreciation.

“Of course, anytime.” He nods with a loose wave, one of his hands shoved into his pockets. “I’ll be back soon, you just rest up.”

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[lousimusician]

Trying To Adjust (Part 2)

Pairing: Frat!Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom deals with the aftermath of your breakup

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

——————————————

Ever since the party, Tom had been having a rough time with what had happened.

And he was finding it harder to get along with his friends, now that he realized that most of them, other than Harrison, were assholes.

Tom really liked you, like really liked you.

The two of you had met during one of your projects. The school was holding a film festival and you were going to be directing your own film and since Tom was an acting major, he turned up at the audition.

You absolutely loved his performance and immediately said yes.

And naturally, since you and Tom would be working so closely, he flirted with you for a bit, and you flirted back, but once he asked you out, you turned him down.

It had been a huge hit to his ego, and from there he had been pretty determined to take you out. But after you had first turned him down, all of his following advancements were ignored.

After a month he had given up. And he was glad he did because once he started focusing more on the film and work, he had realized just how passionate you were about film.

And he admired it greatly.

He loved how determined you were about directing and writing, that after a certain day of shooting he looked up all of your past projects he found on your YouTube channel and watched them all. And not only that he ended up practically stalking you on every social media website you had.

And from there he was completely head over heels for you.

It was something he had never felt before. He had no desire to be in a serious relationship until you came along.

He stopped sleeping with girls because he honestly didn’t care about them anymore and he went back to trying to ask you out, but in a more easygoing way as to not come off strong anymore.

And at the end of the month, you agreed to go out with him.

If only Tom hadn’t been so clueless to the concept of dating, then you wouldn’t have broken up in the messy way you had.

And now with every passing day, Tom was missing you more and more.

The only problem was that he had no idea how to talk to you again after what happened.

Which is why complaining to Harrison all day and night was what he resorted to—

“Do you think she misses me?” Tom asked, staring up at the ceiling.

”Nope.” Harrison said, popping the ‘p’.

At this point Harrison had just started saying anything he wanted to since Tom was refusing to listen anyway. But as long as he could finish this damn paper by tonight, he didn’t really care too much about Tom’s woes.

”You know I blew her off 8 times? I even stood her up on two of those occasions.” He sighed.

”Uh-huh— you were an awful boyfriend,” he said typing away.

”God, what’s wrong with me,” he said, sitting up and looking to Harrison.

He looked up from his laptop, “What? Like you want a list or something?”

”C’mon Haz! I’m serious!”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “You were too consumed with what everyone thought of you. That, and you never had the attention span to focus on one girl for long periods of time anyway.” He said, going back to typing.

Tom fell back onto his bed, exasperated. “She probably hates me.”

And we were back to not taking Harrison’s actual criticisms.

”Not probably— she most definitely hates you.”

”I wonder how she’s doing.”

”Probably a lot better since the breakup.”

”What should I do?”

”Nothing, suck it up and fuck her roommate.”

”How could I have messed up so bad— my first ever relationship!”

”Because you self-sabotage and you’re destined to be alone forever.”

”Ugh, what am I gonna do?”

”Already told you, move on and fuck her roommate.”

”What?”

Harrison looked over his laptop and at Tom who was staring back at him, “What, finally decided to listen to me?”

”I’m serious!”

”Fine. You know what you should do? You should go find her, apologize and beg on your knees for her to take you back. Promise her you’ll be a better boyfriend and follow through on that promise. That is what you should do.”

”I can’t, it’ll never work,” he groaned.

Harrison sighed and shook his head, turning back to his paper.

————

“So Victoria told me she was interested in being apart of your next film,” Elizabeth told you, as she sat watching something on her laptop on top of her bed.

”Really? That’s awesome, she’s a business major right?” You asked, in the middle of some writing homework.

”Yeah, said she has a passion for acting, but her parents forced her to go the business route.

You hummed, “Well tell her I’m holding auditions next week.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

The two of you groaned upon hearing someone knock at the door, “Not it.” You quickly said, making Elizabeth have to go up and answer it.

”Whatever,” she grumbled, hopping off the bed and going to answer the door.

She swung it open to see Harrison standing in front of her, but you couldn’t see who it was, “Yes?” She asked.

”(Y/N) here?”

She promptly turned to you, “It’s for you,” she said before going back to her bed.

You sighed, throwing your laptop to the side and climbing off the bed, “Yea- oh hi Harrison,” you greeted upon seeing him, “How’d you get up here?”

He shook his head, “Got a friend to sign me in- look-“

”Is this about next week’s auditions?” You asked, cutting him off. Harrison was a usual in the audition room, and he had made it into a couple of your projects, “Because everything is posted in Webson Hall-“

”No, this is about Tom,” he rushed out, over you.

”Tom?” You pouted, “Then I’m not interested, see ya,” you were about to close the door when Harrison stopped it, “Whaaaat?” You groaned.

“The two of you need to talk, he’s been nothing but whining and complaining for the last week and I’m starting to lose patience with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why? I thought and I quote ‘I was overbearing and bitchy’.”

He scoffed, “He was obviously talking out of his ass. He’s crazy about you.”

”Not crazy enough apparently.”

”(Y/N) I’m serious. Just talk to him, you’ll see how much he misses you.”

”And if I don’t?” You quirked an eyebrow.

”Then I’ll,” he paused, “I’ll um-“

You laughed, “You’ve got nothing. See you at auditions,” you waved, before shutting the door on him.

Harrison sighed and leaned his head against your door.

And then suddenly and idea struck him.

”That’s it.”

With that, he was running down the hall back to his frat house.

~~~~~~~

You stretched in your seat. Audition day had finally showed up.

Honestly you were never a huge fan of watching a million auditions every time (your work had been getting more and more popular around campus, so auditions tended to be a pretty big turn out). A lot of the time they were mentally exhausting, you’d be surprised by the amount of actors that chose dramatic monologues over comedic.

But now you were already 15 auditions in with 5 more to go, and you were pretty sure you already had your cast now but you still needed to see the others.

“Alright, send them in!” Alyssa shouted, to Eric who had been letting in the actors.

Alyssa and Eric were always crew members on your projects and usually helped you decide cast members.

You had been scribbling something down when the next actor stood by the chair that was provided for each audition in front of you two.

”Go ahead,” Alyssa said, and you finally looked up.

Your eyes widened.

What the fuck?

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked in annoyance, shaking your head.

He stared at you like a deer in the headlights, “Um... auditioning?”

”Did Harrison put you up to this?”

”...Maybe?”

You rolled your eyes again, “Whatever, you can leave.”

”No,” he stated more firmly, “I want to audition.”

You looked over at Alyssa who just shrugged her shoulders.

”Fine,” you said with a wave of your hand, “Go ahead.”

He cleared his voice, “My name is Tom Holland and I will be performing a monologue that I wrote. I will be reading for the character uh- Tim who is apologizing to his ex-girlfriend for something stupid he did.”

”Oh my god,” you hissed, sinking into your seat, already cringing.

He cleared his throat again, “Okay look, you know I’m bad with words so I’m just gonna come out and say it. I fucked up... but you already know that. For years I’ve been living in this bubble where I had my own views on dating and now I realize how warped they really are. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend— and there’s a really good chance I’ll have trouble figuring it out, but.... what I do know, is that if you decide to take me back I will try my fucking hardest to be the best goddamn boyfriend you will ever have, even if that means I have to drop my asshole friends— who really were never that great so I don’t know why I ever chose them over you. But I like you so fucking much and that’s something that has never ever happened for me, so it kills me every single day knowing I screwed up a relationship with the only girl I ever really liked. You are one of the most talented and passionate people I have ever met, and I think you are absolutely gorgeous inside and out. So it would mean the world to me if you even as much as considered taking me back, and if you do, I promise I will do everything I can to make you happy. And if it means anything, I wasn’t lying when I said I never cheated on you and even after we broke up I couldn’t even think about another girl, also...... I don’t think you’re overbearing or bitchy.”

Silence filled the room before you spoke, “Y’know, with these auditions you’re usually expected to act.”

”Yeah I was wondering if you were gonna catch that,” he tried to joke, but kept bouncing on the balls of his feet, showing how nervous he was.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed.

You figured if he was this willing to do something as silly as this, that maybe he really was willing to change.

You placed your clipboard aside and stood up. You walked over to him until you stood right in front of him.

”You gonna start answering my texts?”

His eyes immediately lit up, “Yes! Yes, of course.”

”You really gonna stop hanging out with those jerks? Except for Harrison, he’s the only one I like.”

”Yeah, he’s honestly the only one I like too.”

You nodded, “Then, can we go to that movie we planned a couple weeks ago?”

He grinned so big, you were sure it probably hurt, but you weren’t able to fight the smile off your face either.

Tom suddenly pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you, “Of course darling, anything for you.”

You hugged him back tightly, “Good. Then stay here for the rest of the auditions.”

”Alright,” he agreed, pulling back. “By the way... did you really sleep with Aaron?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I paid him to hide in his room for a half hour to make everyone think I did.”

“Sneaky,” He laughed, shaking his head at you, “But thank god, because from here on out, you’re mine.”

——————————————

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[evalinkatrineberg]

Grip

A/N: A short and bittersweet 3k words on the Bergs. I let Evalin say fuck. Merry Ficmas.

I could hear the rain hitting the metal roof of the car, see the dim lighting of the gas station in the distance. The sticky leather of June’s backseat clung to any exposed skin, burning as I peeled myself off of it in the same way it burns to rip off a bandaid. It smelled of rain with a hint of gasoline. There was no air in my lungs as fingers trailed across my chest, stopping only when I heard the faint click of a seatbelt being fastened.

All of these sensations, all at once, and yet, it felt like I was watching the memory all play out. I wasn’t the girl in the backseat. I was simply watching her, observing the way her blonde hair stuck to the damp window she now leaned her head on, the way her lip quivered ever so slightly. The boy who was about to change her life had an impish grin on his face as he got back in the passenger seat of the car, looking back at the girl in the backseat.

He wanted to take her home with him, he had said. To do what, exactly? The girl in the backseat didn’t want to know, and yet images of possible scenarios flooded her mind, none of them good.

I didn’t want to know.

I was the girl in the backseat.

--

I startled awake, my limbs flailing as my eyes flew open, seeing nothing in the dim lighting of the room I was in. The surface below my head was hard, and smelled faintly of wood and lysol, like somebody had cleaned it earlier this day. It was smooth, and I was able to pull my arms out from under my head, which had been resting upon them, with little effort. The fabric of my shirtsleeves slid across the surface with almost no resistance.

I blinked a few times once I had lifted my head, waiting for the world to come back into focus. My contact lenses were dry, like sheets of sandpaper on my eyeballs. After a few moments, though, I was able to make out my surroundings, knowing where I was the instant I saw the table below me.

The library. I had fallen asleep in the library, and awoken in a cold sweat, after the same dream, again.

I looked down at my watch, groaning to myself as I read the time. It wasn’t even midnight yet, and I had managed to pass out in the library, likely due to sheer exhaustion. The fatigue in and of itself had begun making it a bit too easy to fall asleep, which was both a blessing and a curse, but staying asleep was a whole different issue.

I looked down at my notes, which I had finished the day before, thankfully, and then at my computer, which was showing a pdf of next week’s readings. I had been planning on getting a jumpstart on that, if only to have more free time in the upcoming weeks. My plan made no sense, I had to admit. My family was here this week, and yet I wanted to do more work this week, so I could have less work next week. Maybe I was just trying to avoid my family. After what had happened last night, when Jen had received that initial text from Wylan, asking us to retrieve our siblings, I really couldn’t even blame myself. I loved my family dearly, but I was glad family week was coming to a close. They could be a bit overbearing, and I had grown so used to my usual routines at the palace. Their visit had been welcome, of course, but the manner in which it had thrown off my rhythm had not.

With a shaky breath, I began packing my books and my laptop into my backpack, slinging it over my shoulders and pushing my chair in when I was done. I shouldn’t complain. It hadn’t been all bad. I had slept more this week than I had in the previous weeks, in part because my family was here, and Lydia had decided to take up residence in my room, instead of the room the rest of my family had been provided. It was easier to retire to bed at a reasonable hour when you knew there was someone waiting up on you, holding you accountable. Still, it wasn’t a foolproof system.

Lydia would likely still be awake now, I realized as I made the trek back to my bedroom. A foolish part of me had hoped, that first night, that having her here would somehow make my nightmare go away. I hadn’t had it when I was in my childhood bedroom, which I shared with Lydia whenever she was home, so some foolish part of my brain had concluded that clearly, she was the missing link.

Instead, having her here just made it more difficult, because I didn’t want to explain to her why I was waking up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily, my heart racing, every night. She seemed so happy, now. Her smile every time she looked down at her hand was enough proof of that. I’d never seen that particular dopey grin light up her face ever before she had announced her engagement. It had almost sent a pang of sadness through me, the first time I had seen that, as if there had been another, more secret, side to my sister, that she had hidden from me all these years. She deserved to be happy - she deserved all the happiness in the world, if you asked me - but I just wanted to share in that happiness with her.

I loved being here, at the palace, in Angeles, but sometimes, I felt so isolated. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have friends - I was quick to refer to any of the other girls here as such - but friendship grew a bit difficult when you all were vying for the same man’s heart. Arin, while I felt I could confide in him, was also often busy between work and the Selection, and I didn’t want to think about adding to stress levels by sharing my woes with him. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure what to refer to him as - a friend? Something more? The lines had blurred. He didn’t have an answer, and I sure didn’t, either.

At the same time, I was isolated from my family, as well. Their lives were all going on, without me there, as if very little had changed. My own sister had started seriously dating someone without even bothering to tell me until she was engaged. I had never thought that we had secrets between us, but now, it was becoming apparent that we did. Her engagement, my nightmares of Lukas. Were there more? Probably.

I reached my room, carefully cracking open the door, hoping that maybe, by some miracle, Lydia wouldn’t be there. Right now, I was ready to just put on some pajamas, and curl up in my bed, alone. Space. I needed space. I needed to be left alone, unlike I had been, in the backseat of June’s car, when Lukas -

Lydia was there, and she wasn’t alone. I closed the door behind me as both her and Gabriel turned to face me, identical frowns on forming on their faces. Their brows furrowed. It was Gabriel who spoke first, his voice uncharacteristically soft and quiet. “Ev, are you okay? You look -” he paused, his eyes flickering up and down the length of my body “- pretty shaken up.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, even as I felt the first tears threaten to spill from my eyes. Fuck. Why was I doing this? I had told myself I was done crying. Lukas was a twat, who didn’t deserve any more of my tears.

“Fuck,” I repeated, throwing my backpack to the ground, and beelining towards the bathroom. If I was going to cry, I was going to do it alone, siblings be damned.

“Evalin,” Lydia called after me, standing up from where she had been sitting on my bed and striding across the room, coming to a stop only once she had grabbed my wrist. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, pulling my wrist free from her grip, holding it close to my chest. There were no words, no matter how many times I opened and closed my mouth to speak. The only thing I could produce at the current moment was tears. Tears for the family who I had missed, that was about to leave again, tears for the secrets we all kept from each other, and tears for the girl in the backseat of her best friends car, about to have one of the last bits of her childhood naivety and innocence ripped away from her forever.

Lydia didn’t push for an answer, instead just pulling me close to her, placing one hand on the back of my head, and the other on my back. She slowly guided me towards the bed, all the while humming one song or another our grandmother had used to sing to us, before she passed away.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked, taking a seat on my bed, to my other side. He placed a hand on my shoulder blade, then slowly ran it up and down my back.

It was all I could do to shake my head, my breaths short and raspy as more tears fell. Where could I even begin? Telling Arin was one thing - he didn’t know Lukas, hadn’t seen how many times he had been over my house after what had happened. He had no way of knowing how close of friends I had still considered the two of us, or how utterly foolish I must have been to have just forgotten everything that had gone down in June’s car. My siblings, though, had seen all of that, though they were unaware of what happened that night. They likely wouldn’t believe a word I said, what with Lukas and I still being so buddy-buddy up until the night before I had left for Angeles.

There were about eight months between the night in June’s car, and the night I had shoved Lukas off of our front porch. Eight months, where I had invited Lukas to different events, studied with him, laughed with him, worked with him, without ever questioning what had happened that night. Lukas had been a friend. I had never assumed he would have done something so heinous.

I felt Lydia lift her head, right before she murmured, “I’m going to kill him.”

When I looked up, I saw her shaking her head as she stared at Gabriel. He narrowed his eyes back down at me, his brows knitted as he asked, “What did he do?”

Arin. They meant Arin. It hadn't been him, though. That wasn’t to say he had never done anything wrong, but he had done so much right, recently. He was blameless in this.

“Not Arin.” My voice was no more than a whisper as it left my mouth.

“Then who?” Lydia narrowed her eyes, looking down at me once more. With her thumb, she wiped away some more tears as they fell, before brushing my hair out of my face with her fingers.

I almost didn’t want to say his name.

“Lukas.”

It all poured out of me then - what had happened with Proctor, then with him, the warning I had given to our father, and the recent nightmares. I only stopped talking when my heart was empty, my chest lighter, as if the words had been lodged in there the entire time, just waiting for me to break the dam and release the flood. When I looked up, Gabriel’s face was blank, expressionless, his eyes glazed over and distant. Lydia’s own eyes were wide as she withdrew her hands to her lap, taking a shaky breath of her own.

She glanced over at Gabriel, her eyes searching for something in his face. Once she found it, she nodded, and then turned back to me. “We knew -” she pushed some hair behind her ears  “- about Lukas, at least.”

The world stopped spinning, the only sound in my brain now white noise. “What?”

“We had known where you were really going, when you said you were going to sleep over at June’s.” She shook her head, a ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “Her parents knew, too. Gabriel, Father and I had gone over to their house around when we assumed you all were leaving the party. We had only intended to bust your chops a bit - Father wasn’t even mad - but when you and June walked through that door -” another shake of her head “- I’ll never forget it.”

Neither will I, now that I remember.

“I helped you up the stairs,” Gabriel continued, his eyes fixed on his hand, which was still on my back. “You were just crying uncontrollably, and carrying on. I could hardly understand a word, but Lydia managed to piece two and two together as she calmed you down.”

Another memory, the sensation of an arm around my back, under my shoulders, supporting me.

I frowned as I listened to their story, finding holes in the plot they were spinning. “That doesn’t make sense. If June was there, why would she still willingly hang out with Lukas after the fact?”

Lydia shook her head, picking the story back up. “She was downstairs, being chewed out by her father for going to the party. We didn’t want to add to any of her troubles. Plus, we figured you’d tell her when you woke up in the morning, but then you woke up, and claimed not to remember anything.”

Memories of every moment I had spent with Lukas for those eight months flashed through my head at lightning speed. We had laughed, we had enjoyed our time spent together, we had had a forced kiss under the mistletoe - all of it could have been avoided, if one tiny detail of that night had been different.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How,” Gabriel started, sighing loudly, “does one go about telling their sister that she was assaulted, but doesn’t remember any of it?”

Assaulted. I hadn’t used that word to describe the encounter - had actively avoided using it, actually. It sounded so final, so harsh. I had gotten off lucky. It could have been so much worse, had it continued. So many other people had gone through so much worse. Lukas’s kisses, as tarnished and disgusting as they made me feel, were nothing in comparison to what the word, “assault,” implied, to me.

“Besides,” Gabriel forged on, oblivious to the fact that I was lost in thought, “there was nothing we could do.”

“You could have told me,” I argued, my throat as dry as a desert as I attempted to speak. “There might have been something I could have done.”

“We were trying to figure out how to handle it, Ev.”

I felt something bubbling up within me, hot and fiery, filling my lungs like a bellows with a newfound burst of air and energy. “I’m not a child anymore, Gabriel. I can handle myself.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Can you?”

I could. It would be on my own terms, though.

The fire within me erupted, spewing ash and lava all throughout my body.

I turned from him to Lydia, staring them both down before pointing towards my bedroom door. “Get out.”

Gabriel was the first to stand, having heard my message loud and clear. Good. I glared at him as he took a few small, slow steps towards the door, his eyes darting between me and Lydia.

“Evalin,” my sister tried again.

I’d had enough. I whirled on her, letting the anger coarse through me as I pointed towards the door again, my arm shaking with some emotion I was too tired to identify. Rage, maybe. Frustration. Betrayal. All were likely candidates. “You can sleep with everybody else tonight. I said get out.” Solitude. I needed time, and space, to myself. Just this once.

She glared back at me for a few long moments, then stood up, reluctantly following after our brother. Her eyes were locked on mine until she stepped over the threshold, shutting the door behind her with a satisfying click of finality.

Can you handle yourself?

I stared at my wall for a moment, basking in the silence around me as I braced my arms on the edge of my bed. With a single push, I was on my feet, walking towards my backpack. My phone was right in the front compartment, where I had left it. Unlocking it, I opened the messages app, clicking on a thread started just last week, with only one message in it - my name, followed by a smiley face.

I could handle this, and I knew a good place to start.

I typed up the message to Arin, reading it over only once before hitting send.

Evalin: Take up my father on his offer to file a complaint against Lukas.

Something was missing.

Evalin: Please.

Satisfied, I plugged my phone into the charger by my nightstand, clicking it locked once more, before grabbing a pair of pajamas, and heading towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. I was going to get as much sleep tonight as I could, no matter how many times I woke up in between. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. The sleep would likely help me think clearer, anyway.

I didn’t check my phone to see if Arin responded. I just shut off the light, and climbed into bed. I could handle this, and right now, that meant sleeping.

[moirai-au]

“You look sad” Marvin and Jameson? If that works for you?

Timeline: early in Arc 6 - Aftermath, a few days after they defeat the Entity.

Taglist: @immabethehero @bupine​ @tabbynerdicat @i-maybe-exist @its-ethan-bro @sandinthetardis @honestlyitsjustkenna 

His fists clenched and unclenched as he stared ahead, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. The orchids in front of him swayed back and forth slowly, gently, a barely-visible green glow surrounding the damaged stems. “C’mon,” he hissed between clenched teeth, “C’mon, just work already-”

A stab of pain in between his eyes made him gasp, and he lost his grip; the glow faded and  the flowers dropped back into their sorry state. He grabbed the edges of his work table to support himself, clenching his jaw and hiding his face in his free hand; he could feel the uneven skin under his palm.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But most of all, he wanted his mask.

“Hey.”

Mars yelped and turned around, clutching his chest where he could feel his heart beating frantically. “Jesus, Aster! I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that.”

The demon smirked, showing off his razor-sharp teeth. “Not in a million years. You’re too fun to play with, Scars.”

The young man rolled his eyes, feeling particularly aware of the chilly breeze against his face. “Back to nicknames I see. What, scared to admit you care? Again?”

Aster ignored him, walking around him to poke at the orchids. “The fuck are you doing here anyway? Doc would be pissed if he found out you were out of bed.”

Mars pursed his lips, fiddling with the fabric of his pyjama bottoms. “I’m fine. Just needed some fresh air. I’ve done nothing but sleep while I was stuck in that fucking tank, if I stayed still another minute I would’ve gone insane.”

The fiend hummed. “You should try it sometimes. Sane is boring.”

“What do you want?” Mars sighed, grabbing the plant to put it back in its proper place; the stems were just as ruined as before, the petals dull and drooping. “Other than ruin my day even more, that is.”

“I don’t want shit. He does.”

Mars followed Aster’s gaze; at the entrance of the greenhouse stood a sheepish-looking Charlie, his hand raised in a small wave. Mars blinked, waving back absentmindedly. “Um, hi? Sorry, did you need something?”

The dapper man shook his head, stepping inside the glass house to walk to the mage at a leisurely pace.

“‘kay Dapper, be quick about it,” Aster growled, “I have a nap to get back to.”

“Wait- Jem, you actually found him?”

It was common knowledge at this point; whenever Aster slept -which wasn’t that often- he disappeared from the surface of the Earth. Even Mars, who’d been living in the mansion all his life, who’d explored every nook and cranny of it a hundred times over, could never find where the demon hid to rest.

Well- except for that one time, not long after he got his human body. And that other time, just a week ago. But those were special circumstances.

“Yeah,” Aster relented, glaring at the bowtie-wearing man who only smiled innocently at him. “I don’t know how that weirdo did it either. Said he wanted to talk to you.”

Charlie nodded, his hands signing a slow and hesitant yes. “…Sure,” Mars shrugged. “What about?”

Aster propped his back against a pillar, closing his eyes in concentration. Since the whole… thing had went down the week before, the time traveller had been taken in by their strange little group, having nowhere else to go. Cecil had told them his vocal chords had been destroyed when that demon had slit his throat -a gruesome sight none of them wanted to remember- Aster had been playing translator, using his ability to pick up on the thoughts the time traveller projected. Until the mute was more comfortable with sign language at least.

Mars hadn’t really had the chance to interact with him much, being stuck in a feverish haze the whole time, yet he already knew all there was to know about him.

“I’m worried.” Aster started. His voice was even, calm, a far cry from his usually… intense inflexion. Mars tried to focus on Charles, the sheer bizarrerie of the situation not helping in the slightest.

The man’s warm hazel eyes peered right at him as the demon spoke for him, his hands signing clumsily every few words. “I’m worried. About you.”

Mars stared, dumbfounded. The man who’d been ripped away from his time, who had lost everything and everyone he’d ever known, who’d been captured, locked away, hurt and used as a human puppet for almost a year… was worried about him.

He’d laugh if he didn’t feel like such a useless husk at the moment.

Charlie gestured some more. “You look sad.” Aster translated, arms crossed and eyes still closed. The former mage raised an eyebrow. “What? I don’t. I’m fine.”

“Liar!” Aster hissed, eyes flying open to glare at him. “Stop lying. I fucking hate it when you lie, and you know it.”

Pretender. Fraud.

Charlie visibly tensed at the expletive as Mars scoffed, returning the glare. “And who’s saying that? You or him?”

“Both.” the demon retorted, uncharacteristically serious. “We know you. We’ve been in your head, remember?”

Mars winced, a mess of fractured memories coming to the forefront of his mind.

The blank void. The Architect beckoning him, coercing him to let go, to give up. The despair.

Then voices, first distant and muted, then all-encompassing; four he knew, and one he didn’t.

The merge. All those memories that weren’t his, flooding his mind relentlessly. The feeling of being one, then six, then one.

He’d been Ollie. He’d been Cecil. He’d been Dave. He’d been Charlie, the one he hadn’t known yet. Hell, he’d even been Aster. And they’d been him in return.

Everything they were, everything they’d ever been, mashed together in a single moment, in a single mind, powerful enough to beat their foe.

“I don’t remember much,” Aster’s voice snapped him out of his recollection; he was speaking for Jem again. “But I remember enough still. I know you now, Mars, and I can tell you’re distressed.”

The mage sayed silent for a few seconds; the problem with sharing a mindspace with other people? They’d be able to call you out on your shit.

Jem was right. Back at the forest, right after it was all over, they’d all been stuck in a trance-like state, their minds still linked by a few fraying threads. They’d managed to drag themselves back to the mansion before collapsing in an exhausted pile, unable to tell where each of them started or ended, a few fleeting thoughts and feelings still coursing between them.

The connexion had been snapped for good by the time they woke up the next day, and the memories of the time they’d spent as one had been fading away ever since.

Mars signed. He resisted the urge to hide his face, knowing the futility of the gesture; there wasn’t anything about him that Jamie hadn’t seen already. “Okay, okay.” he relented, sitting on a bench next to his work table. “Fine, ya got me. I feel like shit.”

Charlie nodded. “I figured as much. Do you wish to talk about it?”

The mage snorted; it was so weird to hear such old-fashioned language coming out of Aster’s mouth. “Not really. But I know you won’t leave me alone until I do, so I guess we’re doing this.”

“Indeed we are. Because I know you’ll let it fester inside until someone gets hurt. Most likely you.”

Mars looked down at his lap. He hated how right Jem was. “You sound like Dave.”

“We do share a similar outlook on life. Now,” the time-traveller said patiently, sitting next to the mage, “Penny for your thoughts?”

***

“It just… feels like such a non-problem, you know?”

Marvs didn’t know how long he’d been venting, but once the floodgates had been open, he’d found he couldn’t stop. And Jem just sat next to him, listening to his woes in silence, only nodding from time to time to show he was paying attention. Aster had moved to lay down on the table, his head resting on an arm while the other dangled from the surface. If not for the dim green glow of his barely opened eyes, one could’ve thought he’d fallen asleep. Not that he’d actually would, not in plain sight like this.

The mage scratched at the bandages on his arm; hopefully Cecil would let him take them off for good soon. “My powers, my magic- they were the source of all my problems. I’ve lost count of how many times I wished I hadn’t been born with it. But now…”

He shook his head, fingers digging into his skin. “Now I- I feel wrong. Useless. Broken. Like I’m nothing without- fuck, I actually miss it.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “God, I can’t believe this. I sound like an entitled brat. Oh wait, I am. This is stupid, I’m stupid, you’re literally stranded in the future and I’m complaining about trivial stuff like this, I shouldn’t be upset by this-”

“Bullshit.”

Mars turned back to Charlie, gaping; the man was glaring at Aster, crossing his arms in a disapproving manner. The demon furrowed his brow, opening his eyes to peer at the other. “What? …Oh c’mon old man, it’s the same thing- hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I’m not even- Ugh!”

The fiend growled and clicked in his native tongue before shaking his head and turning to Mars. “Fine. He didn’t say bullshit. He said, and I quote, ‘that’s a pile of moonrocks’.”

Mars blinked; that one was new. “What?”

“It’s not a contest.” Jamie insisted. “How you feel is not daft or unimportant just because some other people are, according to you, worse off.”

“But… don’t you miss your time?”

Charlie looked up, a wistful expression on his face; the sky was clear today, the afternoon sun casting warm rays through the glass ceiling. “Of course I do,” he said through Aster. “My life wasn’t perfect by any means. But it was something, and it was mine.”

He frowned. His hands were tight around his pocket watch, knuckles turning white. “And this… creature took it all away. I can never go back. All for some power he coveted for his grand plan. Did you know I couldn’t even use it anymore?”

That last sentence was directed at Mars, who reeled back in surprise. “Wh- your magic?”

“Yes.”

His head was spinning. It all seemed so… final. “It’s gone? Completely? Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. I’d never noticed it existed before I learned to harness it, but I can say for certainty that this part of me is gone.”

The mustached man tilted his head. “But surely you knew this, did you not? I felt it. The strain. The snap. Like something shattering. That means you all must have felt it as well.”

Mars looked down at his feet. “I- yeah. But I didn’t think… I didn’t know…”

“Do not pity me, friend. I don’t miss it.”

“You don’t?”

“Not one bit. I lived my whole life without it, and using it proved to be my downfall. But you?”

Jamie put a hand on his shoulder. His eyes were steeled by resolve. “You’ve always been aware of this power. It’s brought you pain, a lot of it. But it was still a part of you you learned to live with, to depend on. And without it, I am willing to bet that none of us would’ve met, and that’s not a prospect I’m too fond of. So it’s not surprising that you’d feel a sense of loss. Although…”

He got up, reaching for the orchids above the work table, Mars’ slitted eyes not leaving him for a second. He came back and handed the plant to the mage, his crinkled eyes and dimples showing that he was smiling under his mustache. “Look.”

And as Mars squinted at the flowers, wondering what point the other was trying to make- he saw it.

There, partially hidden beneath the dying stems, were a few bright green buds that definitely weren’t there before.

“Have faith, Mars.” Jameson winked. “I don’t think you’ve completely lost your touch yet.”

Mars looked at Jem, at a loss for words; this was a man who’d been through things he couldn’t even fathom. Yet here he was, still standing. Smiling through it all, bright and warm like a saturated sunrise, despite the obvious grief and trauma he didn’t try to hide when he was having a bad day.

He felt something bloom in his chest. Admiration. Hope.

In this moment, the heavy cloud that hovered over his head seemed so threatening anymore. He smiled. “…Thanks Jem. You’re… pretty swell.”

The dapper fellow smiled even brighter, scratching the back of his head bashfully. Aster made a gagging sound. “Blargh, you fleshbags are gonna make me sick. Dapper, you make me say any more of that sappy shit I swear to fuck-”

Language, Charlie signed. Aster flipped him off.

The mage and the time traveller erupted into chuckles, before the latter gasped. He raised a finger in the air as if to say hold it and got up, running out of the greenhouse like the devil himself was hot on his heels.

“What’s he doing?” Mars asked Aster, puzzled at the other’s behavior.

The imp shrugged, jumping down from the table. “Hell if I know. Heard something about forgetting, and fixing. Whatever, I’m out.”

“What do you mean you’re ‘out’? How am I supposed to-”

“Look,” Aster cut him off with a sneer, “He’s said his piece, I’m done playing parrot for today. Figure it out, genius.”

And with that, he walked away and disappeared into the mansion, leaving Mars sitting awkwardly on the bench.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait for long, because Charles walked back in not a minute later, visibly holding something. Mars shot to his feet, not believing his eyes. “Jem- Is that my-”

The dapper man beamed as he came to a stop in front of him; in his hands laid his old cat-shaped mask. In one piece.

Well, sort of- the cracks running through it were obvious, having been filled out with a slick golden substance. The thinner cracks all around the edges has been filled in the same manner, giving it an almost regal feel.

It looked beautiful.

“I-” Mars choked, grabbing the mask with reverence, “Shit, Jem, this is- how? I mean, I know how, stuff like this was your job back then- but where? When? I thought- I thought it was lost, back in the forest…”

Charlie signed, slowly. Mars squinted, trying to decipher what the other meant with his very limited knowledge of ASL. “You… found the pieces? Here? In the mansion?”

A nod.

“But how? Did one of us pick them up on the way back?”

A shrug.

“Right, fading memories, got it.”

He looked down at the mask for a few more seconds, taking it all in, before finally holding it up to his face. He fastened the white straps around his head, in fluid motions rehearsed a thousand times, and let out a trembling breath; the weight and feel of it was familiar. Comforting. He smiled down at the tinkerer.

“Thank you.” Mars smiled down at the hat-wearing man, his slitted eyes gleaming in relief and gratitude. “So much. For everything.”

And as Charlie signed what he could only guess meant you’re welcome, he decided he needed to brush up on his sign language.

[riverdalepoet]

All I Ever Wanted (part 4)

PAIRING: Sweet Pea and OC (Emma Carter Wilson); Kevin and Fangs, Toni and Cheryl, Betty and Jughead

WORD COUNT: 2209

WARNINGS: LANGUAGE AND SUGGESTIVE THEMES

A/N: For whatever reason, I’m having issues with these posts.  The tag for this story is all I ever wanted sweet pea and emma.  It is also being posted on AO3 (kaylahselman15).  PLEASE message me if you see something missing from this post.  and I hope you enjoy!

___________________________________________________________

         “I’m not saying you’re a terrible driver, babe.  All I’m saying is that you should be taking better care of this vehicle.  How long has it been making this sound? Fangs could’ve already had this fixed.” Sweet Pea droned on and on and on.

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the window.  “Sweets, you know how you said you wanted me to tell you when you’re being an ass?”

“No, I don’t.  I was drunk and I still think you made that up,” he laughed as I reached over to smack the back of his head.

“First of all, darling, think what you want to.  Second of all, YOU. ARE. BEING. AN. ASS.  Not all of us drive like grandpas.  Some of us like to live a little.”

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and shot a pointed glare my way, “And that is how you totaled your first car.  I swear to you, Emma, if I get a call like I got that night ever again, you’ll be driving a bicycle.”

I crossed my arms and looked back out the window, muttering “You flip a car one time, and you never live it down.”

To be fair, he had a point.  We were still in high school and just had a huge fight.  At that time, we weren’t officially together…just fucking like rabbits.  It was sometime after the White Wyrm had been reclaimed as Serpent territory, and my future husband was using it as his safe haven to get with every new girl that walked in.   We had an arrangement- fight, rip each other’s clothes off, argue, leave hickeys on every visible surface of our bodies, insult, sneak off to broom closets for relief, and most importantly- no one finds out.

____________________________________________________________

A few months in, and it was starting to fall apart.  The more I watched them fawn over him, the angrier I got, and that night my blood was boiling.  I sat, frozen, at the bar with Toni, and listened to her complain about Cheryl being away for the weekend.  I was terrified if I got up, I would walk right over and tell Mr. Pea exactly what I thought of him, so instead, I pouted.  

After a little while, I got bored and started making eyes at the new recruit across the bar. He was brawny and certainly seemed interesting.  A few winks later, and he started to make his way over to the stool beside me.  For the next few minutes, I flirted shamelessly, making the most out of this glorious distraction.

Downing every shot of whiskey Toni slid in front of me and getting this much attention from somebody new, made me forget all my woes. He had just lifted his newly tattooed hand to grip my thigh, when “What the fuck?” thundered from across the room.  We both jumped and looked over to see Sweet Pea storming over to the two of us.

Before the poor guy had a chance to stand up, Sweet Pea had him by his jacket and slung him off the stool.  “You’re new around here, so I’m gonna make this very clear.” His eyes were black and his fists were balled tightly at his sides.  ‘If you put one finger on her ever again, you can kiss that hand goodbye.”

For good measure, Sweet Pea shoved him towards the door, and he clamored to his feet making a swift exit.  The Wyrm had gone silent.  Fangs was watching the scene with a smirk as Toni was eyeing me carefully.  

Slowly Sweet Pea turned around and his cold stare was met with fire from mine.  We stayed that way glaring holes into each other until Jughead walked up, clapping a hand on Sweet Pea’s shoulder and saying, “Maybe you two should go outside.  Ya know, talk or whatever it is you do? We don’t want to cause a sc-“

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” I yelled, ignoring Jug all together.  He took a deep breath and backed away.  Sweet Pea grabbed his jacket from the pool table and made his way towards the door, leaving his date for the night pissed.

I matched every step he took, finally able to corner him against the side of the building. “No, you don’t get to ruin my night and run away without an explanation.  What the hell was that?”

“Emma, go back inside right now,” he growled, reaching for his cigarettes, and leaning back against the wall as he took in a long drag.

“Excuse me?  Since you’re big on ‘making things clear’ for people tonight, let me clear a few things up for you. You don’t get to eye fuck every girl that gives you the time of day and blow your fuse when I flirt with ONE PERSON compared to your twenty.  You don’t get to insist that I follow the rules that we made, and then say to hell with them whenever you feel like it.  And you damn sure don’t get to tell me what to do, you self-righteous fuck.”  He pushed himself off the building with his foot, flicking his cigarette on the gravel.  He towered over me with ease, standing as close as he could to match my intensity.

“Get your ass back inside before I say something I regret, Emma, I fucking mean it.  Do not push me right now.” With that, I reached in my pockets for my keys and turned on my heel.

“I said get back inside, Emma Carter.  Where are you going?”  He followed me, grabbing my wrist and spinning me around to face him.

“Fuck you,” I spat through gritted teeth.  “Fuck this.  I’m done.” Jerking my hand free from his grip hurt, but not as much as it did to leave him in the taillights as I tore out of the parking lot.  

Paying too much attention to the pounding in my ears and no attention to my speed, I raced through the night, trying my best to get Sweet Pea out of my head.  The sharp curve on Holly Drive, locally referred to as the Devil’s Spine, appeared much sooner than I anticipated.  There was no use; I had no time to bring the car down to a decent speed.  Just like that the still of the night was broken as my car flipped over the guardrail, taking me with it.  

Sherriff Jones was the first on the scene.  Calmly, he assessed the damage and kept me sane as I dangled upside down, and waited for the ambulance. “You’ve really done it now kiddo,” he mumbled, dialing a number into his phone. I tried my best to focus on his voice as he spoke to keep from slipping into unconsciousness.  “Son, you might want to get Pea and head this way.  I’m at the Devil’s Spine with Emma…. Completely flipped.  Yeah, it’s just me here right now.  Okay.”

“FP, why’d you have to send for Sweet Pea?” I groaned when he hung up the phone, turning to face me again.

“Because he’s second in command…and because once Jughead told him what was going on, he’d come hell or high water.”

“I doubt it…”  FP shook his head in response as I tried to stretch my neck for relief.  I let out a small cry, and FP was kneeling in the window, trying to see what caused it.  “I’m fine, I’m fine.  It just hurts…why did I do this?” My eyes were getting heavy and I was struggling to keep it together.  

“Hey, little lady, stay with me now.” Tires screeching close by caught my attention and kept me going for a while longer. “Oh thank God.  Boys, get over here with her, I’m about to light a fire under these paramedics ass if they don’t get here.”

My vision was spotty, but I could tell by his height that Sweet Pea was quickly making his way towards my wrecked vehicle.  The crunch of boots halted as he bent down. “Emma, baby, look at me.”

“Go away, Pea,” I mumbled, wanting nothing more than to sleep. Paying no mind to the glass in his way, he reached through the window to stroke my cheek.  

“Emma, you gotta keep your eyes open. Hey, hey, open your eyes.  What can I do?”

Smiling to myself, I weakly replied, “You can say ‘I am a dick and Emma is the best’”.  Sweet Pea obliged making me giggle despite myself.

Jughead crouched beside Pea to let us know that the ambulance just pulled up, and before I knew it, they were working on getting me out.  Sweet Pea stayed by my side and held my hand.  At first, they would not let him ride in the back with me, but a few stern words from Sherriff Jones had them rethinking that decision.  Sweets clung to me for dear life and kissed each of my knuckles. “This ends now, okay? No more hooking up and hiding it.  That is over.  We are together now, you hear me?”

The last thing I remember before giving in to the medicine being pumped through my veins was nodding in response and begging, “Don’t leave me…”

_______________________________________________________________

 Sweet Pea reached over and squeezed my knee.  “Em, where’s your head?” I turned my attention back to him, swooning at his tender half-smile he saved just for me.

“Feeling pretty damn lucky,” I whispered, and kissed him on the cheek.  He used the hand that was on my knee to grab my hand, and we rode in comfortable silence the rest of the drive.

By the time we pulled up to our house right on the outskirts of the Southside, Carter was sleeping soundly.  We carefully got him inside and placed him gingerly in his crib.

We stumbled into the kitchen, exhausted from the stress of the day.  Sweets sat down on the barstool, reaching for a bottle of water. “Do you think we should cook something?”

“Well, a sure-fire way to get Fangs to fess up would be food, so yes.”  I laughed and started on dinner.

It wasn’t long before the man of the hour pulled into the driveway, and made his way into our home.  Sweets grabbed him a beer from the fridge as I set the table.  

“Well this is nice,” Fangs commented stuffing his face.  “I was just planning on going to Pops later.” Sweet Pea nudged my leg under the table.

“Oh? By yourself?”  Fangs slowed his chewing and looked suspiciously between the two of us.

“Yeah, I was gonna order take out like always.” I hummed in response.

“Emma….” Fangs started.  “Why are acting so….pleasant?”  Sweet Pea choked back a laugh as I stomped firmly on his foot.

“All I’m doing is feeding you, Fangs. I do this about twenty times a day.” Grumbling about being ungrateful, I stabbed a piece of chicken into my mouth.

Fangs was quiet for a moment as my husband was trying, still, to recover from his laughing fit.  “No, that’s not it. I’ve known you for too long. Come on out with, Wilson.”

The table shook as I slammed my hands down and rose to my feet.  “Alright fine.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning, but somebody was already there, Franklin.  Any idea who that might’ve been? Looked suspiciously like Kevin Keller to me.”

Fangs averted his eyes as a deep blush spread across his cheeks.  He stared between me and Pea nervously, refusing to answer.

“Oh no sir!  What was that you told me? ‘Come on, Fogarty, out with it.”  Sweet Pea slid another beer to him, sympathetically and Fangs smiled slightly.  Sweets was thoroughly enjoying how uncomfortable Fangs was, and was fighting back a grin.

Fangs huffed and finally said, “No comment.”

“Okay then, no comment, no dessert.”  Fangs laughed at that and got up from his seat to follow me into the kitchen.

“Em,” he leaned against the counter and held eye contact.  “Why are you mad?”

I slapped the dishcloth on the sink and sighed before turning to face him.  “Because I’m not in the loop anymore.  You two used to tell me everything- even things I didn’t want to know.  When did that stop?”

Fangs grabbed my shoulders and looked me square in the eye, “When there’s something to tell, I will come to you first.  We’re figuring things out, okay?  It literally just happened less than eight hours ago.”

I nodded and pulled him into a hug, “Promise it’s not because I’m not cool anymore.”

Sweet Pea chose that moment to walk in the room and chuckled before I shot him a dirty glare.  Fangs just squeezed me tightly.  “No, no.  You’re still the baddest chick I know.  Now let’s go look at your car.”

Groaning, I ushered him outside, following Pea who handed Carter off to me so he could pop the hood.  It took a little longer than usual, but he had my SUV back in pristine condition.  I was still fighting my curiosity but felt a lot better after our talk.  Becoming a mom made me so happy, but distanced me from the people that in my life.  It was nice to know they loved me just the same.

[heoneyology]

Sweet Summer

Originally posted by zerodramarama

Note: This is originally written for my best friend @ukininam​ because she left some pretty funny tags on the gifset above and I just... got an idea. I’m running out of room on my google drive though so this is me posting this here lmao. I kept the writing very open for everyone’s enjoyment if they... want to enjoy... c:

Pairing: Shownu x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2102

Summary: Literally my friend’s tags: “#aaaahhh vacation au where he sees you aka me on the beach”

The warmth of the sun radiates through you, soothing. It flows through you to your core, healing away all your stresses and worries. Three days in this paradise, and you can already feel your shoulders are less tense, and the migraine that had been haunting you since the start of the semester easing away. Every pressure that had been tormenting your nervous system is gone, now.

Maybe this is all you had needed, all along. A vacation — just a simple vacation.

You’d been extremely skeptical at first, and no convincing from your best friend had budged you for quite a while. You’d stubbornly kept your hold, too worried over the previous semester and all there was to do left. Your senior year of college was coming up, and while you knew you should take summer vacation to relax a bit, you were ready to plunge yourself into those deep waters headfirst. There was so much to prepare for.

After this semester, your life was about to begin. It was time to get serious about things.

But, you supposed you could admit all this relaxation and healing time was good for your soul. It was good to, just for a brief moment, forget everything and focus on yourself for a bit. At the very least, while you were still slightly skeptical despite enjoying yourself — your best friend hadn’t been wrong when she’d said the down time before the hard part began would be good for you.

You let out a content sigh, tilting your head back toward the sun. You breathe in deeply, enjoying the rays that dance gently upon your skin. A content hum escapes from the back of your throat, and you wiggle your toes in the grains of sand beneath your feet.

Just as you’re about to relish in this little amount of freedom, contemplating how to spend the rest of your day, you hear an abrupt shout.

“Hey! Watch out!”

It doesn’t register immediately that this statement is aimed at you. But after another echo of “Hey!” falling upon your ears, your eyes shoot open, and you turn toward the voice.

You’d never been one to play sports, yet just as you turn, something flashes in the corner of your vision — causing you to flinch just fast enough to bring your arm before your face, blocking what would have been a volleyball knocking you clean out.

“Ouch.” You grimace as the ball falls to the sand at your feet, your forearm throbbing from the impact.

A part of you expects there to be some sort of follow-up. Maybe, whoever had been yelling at you would come retrieve the ball, or even ask if you’re okay. But neither of those things happen, and you find yourself rubbing your arm as you glance around at your surroundings.

The sands are busy with beachgoers. Some linger at the ocean’s edge and play as the waves ebb and flow, others soak up the sun as you had been doing just moments before, and many take part in activities that have them running back and forth across the beach. One person, in particular, catches your attention.

He stands not too far off, as though he’d been making his way across the beach before having been interrupted. His striped shirt and ruffled hair, dyed an ashy blonde, fit the vacation vibe perfectly. So perfectly, in fact, that it makes you want to laugh, because it’s so stereotypical. It’s a style you’d expect to see in a romcom, yet he pulls it off quite well.

But when your eyes meet, the laughter you can feel bubbling up inside of you falls flat. Your heart, stuck in your throat with the laughter, dislodges itself and falls into the pit of your stomach, erupting into a cloud of butterflies.

He stares at you with a look of awe on his face, a quirked brow of curiosity giving away that he seems to be impressed. Or, at the very least, that’s what you think. Though you have no idea what can be impressive about blocking a killer volleyball from hitting your face. Surely, if someone’s reflexes were fast enough, anyone else would do the same.

A small smirk, or half smile — you can’t really be sure from the distance — crosses his face before he makes his way towards you. In a matter of seconds, that half-smirk, half-smile is right before you. It stops your heart, stilling the butterflies in your stomach, and practically melts you. The smile, although not full, reaches his face and touches his eyes in a way that makes him incredibly attractive. It leaves room for questions, because there’s visibly parts that are hidden away and a mystery.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks, studying you.

You feel yourself shift beneath his gaze, your hand still rubbing your arm idly. “For the most part, I think.”

As you answer, you lift your hand from your forearm and glance down, grimacing at the angry red blotch on your arm. He mimics your expression.

“Ouch. I’m really sorry about that,” he apologizes, and as he does so, he glances over his shoulder. You follow his gaze in the direction of where you assume the ball had come from. A group of nearby guys wave, giving whoops and whistles.

From the angle which you stand, you can see his jaw clench. Your lips twitch in amusement, and you try to hold back a snicker.

“They’re energetic,” you note.

“Too energetic,” he says, letting out a long sigh as he reaches down and reclaims the volleyball. He takes a few steps away from you, hurling the ball back in the direction of the group he’d clearly been hanging out with.

He turns around, facing you. Briefly, his eyes flicker to your arm, before they look back up at you. “Let me help you with that. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh—” You start, before shaking your head. “There’s really no need. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m serious. I won’t take up that much of your time,” he says, nodding over the far bank of the beach, back towards the resort. He gives you that smirk-smile from before. “Unless you want me to, of course.”

You let out a huff, though you swear you can feel heat rising to your face. Hopefully it’s just the sun getting to you. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. You give a nod towards the resort, prompting him to lead the way.

His smile broadens, and he does so.

As you walk back to the resort with him, you two chat and introduce yourselves. His name is Son Hyunwoo, and similarly to you, he’s visiting on vacation away from university, as well. Ironically enough, he’d also come on the trip with some of his closest best friends. You spend some time chatting and complaining about them, and telling tales of the woes of college as you talk.

“Wait here.” He stops the two of you just outside the gift shop in the lobby.

While you wait, you decide to take a seat on a nearby bench, watching his head through the window bob between the aisles inside the store. He’s unusually tall, you think. You glance down at your throbbing arm, wondering just what he has in mind that will make such a thing feel better. You’re fairly certain this is going to bruise.

His footsteps alert his return, and you look up as he reaches into a small plastic bag. “Okay, this should help.”

From the bag, he produces a tube of soothing gel. He takes a seat on the bench next to you.

You find yourself scoffing. “Aloe gel? Really? I think an ice pack would be better.”

Hyunwoo frowns at you, setting the tube down on the bench in the space between you. “I mean, probably, but they had no ice packs, just bags of ice. That’s not what’ll help, anyway,” he states, pulling two more items from the plastic bag.

Fudgsicles.

He blatantly grins at your surprise, holding out one of the ice creams. Tentatively, you take it from him.

“What is this, a makeshift ice pack?”

“No,” he laughs, unwrapping the packaging on his own. “But trust me, it’ll help heal you.”

You study him skeptically as he takes a lick of the frozen fudgsicle, raising his eyebrows at your gaze. His look is so endearing, though, that you can’t help but give in, unwrapping the packaging of your own fudgsicle and joining him.

He’s content at this, grinning from ear to ear. While you’re distracted with your ice cream, he works on opening the tube of soothing gel.

“Sorry, again,” he apologizes, and you glance at him. He’s placed the the popsicle between his lips, holding it there precariously as he squeezes some of the gel out on to his index finger.

“Eh.” You shrug. “Like I said, it’s really not a huge issue. It’ll probably leave a gnarly bruise, but nothing a little makeup can’t cover up.”

You look over at him, watching as he holds his finger up, unable to speak past the ice cream. It’s a very innocent and puppy-like look. He clearly didn’t think his actions through on how to best go about this.

Without thinking, you find yourself reaching up with your free hand, gently taking hold of the wooden stick at the end of the fudgsicle and prying it from his mouth. He blinks in surprise, quirking a single brow at you.

“Ah- s-sorry…” You mumble, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. This time, you aren’t out in the blazing glare of the sun, and there’s no way to hide the blush that rises up. You’re sure he notices, though you find him glancing away quickly. Were you imagining the slight pink tint to his own cheeks?

“I just wanted to help—”

“It’s fine.” He clears his throat and licks his lips nervously, clearing away some remaining chocolate ice cream in the process. “Thanks.”

Attempting to regain his composure, he gives a nod toward your arm, which, now claiming his ice cream, you hold up for him. He gives a nod of thanks before spreading the fingertip of gel across the angry red mark on your arm. The cool gel causes you to shiver. Either that, or it’s his gentle touch against your bare skin.

“I really am sorry for earlier, though,” he apologizes once more. “This really is going to leave a bruise.”

“It’s no worry, you don’t have to keep apologizing,” you say, giving him a smile. “Bruises heal, thankfully.”

“True.” He gives a hum from the back of his throat, and you swear it sounds like a mix of contentment and awe; it’s a very feline sound. “Those were some insane reflexes, though.”

You grin around your ice cream. “Actually, I have no idea how I did that. I’m pretty impressed with myself, too.”

Hyunwoo raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? No way!” He shakes his head, disbelief written across his face, before he suddenly releases his gentle hold of your arm. For a moment, he studies his work, and you study it, as well.

While you’re not sure it’ll do anything, at least it is soothing, you figure. The chill from the aloe in the product does wonders on the heat rising from the blotch on your arm.

You pull your arm back, holding his ice cream up for him. “Thank you.”

Hyunwoo smiles. “It’s the least I can do for a pretty girl I’ve injured,” he answers, taking his ice cream from you. Briefly, his fingers graze yours as he takes hold of the wooden stick. You find yourself letting out a small shiver, again.

You let out a small scoff, amazed at how easily he’s been able to throw around subtle compliments this entire time. Surely the alcohol you’ve had these last few nights mixed with the sun have addled your brain to bits and pieces. This complete stranger, also on a school vacation — flirting with you?

“You said it was the least…” You point out quietly, focused on your fudgsicle.

“I did say that,” he agreed, humming around his own ice cream as he licks it. “Does dinner later tonight sound like a small step up from least? I don’t want to go too high just yet… we still each have a few days here…”

You grin, despite yourself. Summer flings were dangerous, but something about Hyunwoo made your heart skip a beat and those butterflies in your stomach return.

This was one way to relieve the semester’s stress.

[spideychelle-romanogers]

Trying To Mend It

Making of Michelle Jones - Prologue, Chapter 6

Start from the beginning || Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

After catching Michelle stealing jewels, the new mystery she brings into Peter's life defines his next adventure. There are new dangers coming to NYC and Michelle is playing a bigger part in Spider-Man's mission than Peter ever imagined.

Chapter 6: After a traumatic experience, Peter finds himself healing through his friendship with Michelle.

T/W: none  Beta: Splendid_Splendont  Tags: spideychelle, pan!Peter, demi!Michelle, slow burn

It was Thursday morning and Peter had never felt that his life would be so…dull after everything. The woes of the weeks past were still on his mind, leaving this permanent heat at the back of his neck like something bad was going to happen. Ned would often find ways to calm him down during lunch and Michelle would call him out when he got too lost in his thoughts. Between the two of them, Peter managed to get through the days. For half the week, Michelle was absent but he didn't ask any questions for once when she came back.

Not that it wasn't a surprise to him. Peter was sitting in his biology class ignoring the notes he could have been taking and reading the headlines about Spider-Man instead. His alter ego had been receiving some interest after his back alley bar fight footage went viral, and he was trending online on social media. Hey, there were even a few fan clubs, too! Every now and then Peter would also spot a blog article about how the bank robbers were still at large. Huh, and the-

"-You still stalking that guy?" Michelle's sudden question made him jump, startling him out of his thoughts. How she managed to sneak up on him with his heightened hearing was a mystery. Peter immediately shut off his tablet and turned to her.

"Hey, you're back!" The enthusiasm was supposed to sound sarcastic but to his surprise it came out like he was far too excited.

"What are you hiding?" Michelle seemed amused but to Peter's confusion she pulled out her phone and intently stared at the screen. Peter watched her, waiting for her to finish whatever she was doing but her focus didn't relent.

"You've missed a lot of notes, you know," He said suddenly, realizing he wanted her attention back. This was an unfamiliar feeling. "I could give them to you later. There's a big exam coming up if you want to study togeth-"

Michelle took the tablet out of his hands and unlocked it.

"How di-" Peter found himself asking too late. Michelle scanned the opened tabs before Peter interrupted her thoughts. "How do you know my passcode?"

"It's your birthday."

Peter stared.

"Wait, wha-I... how did you know my birthda-" Michelle showed him her phone. His birthdate was splayed out on his Facebook profile.

"You're not very interesting, Parker," She said, before smiling a little at his expense. Peter opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong when her smile became…reassuring? Once upon a time, this was such an unfamiliar look. It was as though going through something horrible was enough to make Michelle see a different side to him. Someone she could relate to, perhaps.

Peter had to stop thinking like this.

"He's going to catch them, these things take time," She continued. Peter looked down at his tablet. The last tab left open was speculating how Spider-Man was going to take the robbers down.

"How do you know he's a 'he'?" Peter asked, to change the subject, "could be a girl."

She shot him a dry look. "He asks to be called Spider-Man and I'm willing to take his word for it." Michelle stopped paying attention to Peter like she always did and went back to her book. That bothered him, he just wanted her to keep the conversation going, keep talking.

At the end of class, Michelle called his name and Peter stopped and turned so fast even she seemed taken aback. "I hope you don't mind but I told my dad."

Peter realized she normally avoided talking about her dad unless she was talking to Spider-Man. "About….?" Michelle nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

"My dad's visiting May later today. I just wanted you to hear it from me first in case I overstepped."

"Oh." Peter knew he couldn't say much without giving himself away. "That'll be good for her." Peter was about to walk away, but even as he turned he thought to himself about how he slammed her locker door and just how wrong it felt. Michelle shouldn't be checking with him if telling her father was okay. Now was time for Peter to own up to his behavior, despite having a very good excuse for it.

So he turned around to say as much... and she was gone. Peter stared at the space she was as if she'd reappear.

He did everything he could in that moment to convince himself not to run home to see her father for himself.

The guilt wasn't minimized at all by the chance to suit up in the daytime on a weekday. He just had to see Michelle's father. Crawling up the wall of his apartment, he sat on the fire escape by his window and watched them. Aunt May was taking the kettle off the stove to make them tea, and there was a short man sitting at the counter there. His back looked straight, but he held it with a light hand on the back of his hips. He didn't have to wince for you to know something was off with his posture.

Peter never realized he wanted to know where Michelle got her forceful authoritative tone that was so pronounced it could last in a whisper, but the answer was certainly what he needed. Her father had the same sound. He had the grumpiness to his tone of a much older man. Peter smiled to himself. Like father, like daughter.

"But this... this lab, are you sure?" May continued.

"Yes. I can't live this way much longer," Michelle's father broke his stiff posture and leant heavily on the counter. "I need to work. Can't sit at home or live between doctor's appointments; Michelle's been cutting school to help-"

His aunt looked up from pouring. "What if….nevermind." May just sighed.

He gave her a knowing look, "What if something goes wrong? Yeah, I know. Hope it never comes to that, but with Vincent away I have to try something; We're struggling enough as it is."

"How is Vin?" She handed him his cup, "Have you visited him yet?"

Peter watched as the two of them slowly relaxed around one another as the conversation continued. They were much more at ease now.

"Yeah, he's more worried about me than himself. The lawyer's awful. Too young. Probably Peter's age."

May let out a chuckle that didn't feel like she was acting at all. It was something rare to hear, especially after everything that happened. "I doubt that, David."

Michelle's father, David sighed. "But he looks like it, May. Don't change the subject, though. How are you doing? You've hardly..." the words faded as Peter began crawling back down the fire escape. Aunt May deserved at least some privacy. And now he worried that maybe he really owed Michelle the same respect.

Speaking of which, she was late. Peter waited for her in the tunnel, writing in his journal to pass the time. It was uncomfortable to do while suited up but he couldn't run the risk. He wrote about the way fear made its way into his life in a way he didn't think he'd ever have to worry about. He thought about mortality in a way that was almost surreal.

Thinking about your own death was difficult enough at his age but having superpowers made the whole thing so much more unbelievable. Yet, he'd imagine situations where he could die, and what that would cost the people who he cared about.

That made him stop writing for a moment, just thinking about how the last few weeks had fluctuated up and down. The trauma was so sudden and there was no warning.

It reminded him of the time his parents watched The Titanic with him, not knowing the plot twist in the movie. He'd grow up making fun of them for this but he remembered at the time the story was so pleasant and then BAM! The boat was sinking. That's how these weeks felt that now that he'd pulled out of the dark.

He still couldn't believe his parents hadn't known the plot.

And that shock in his system was really universal - even in how he behaved with Michelle. First, he was laughing with her, then he was angry, now… now he was hoping to have more of her attention than he already did. The makings of a friendship? Hopefully, but Peter didn't really know what to think.

Michelle came in and startled him out of his thoughts.

"Everyone jumps when I enter a room," She complained, baffled.

"I was just distracted." And definitely not thinking about her, of course. "You ever seen the Titanic?" The words were out of his mouth before he could help them.

Michelle shot him a puzzled look. "Yeah..."

"My parents made me watch that when I was young. They didn't know the plot of the film. Everything was so great and happy and then it wasn't." This story felt so much more relevant in his head. "Can you believe that? They didn't know the boat would sink." Peter chuckled to himself but to his surprise Michelle wasn't joining him. She simply stared at him.

"Are you okay?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck."Yeah, sorry," he muttered sheepishly, "That was random. I'm fine." Michelle seemed blown away by his words. "What?"

"You never share," She told him, then elaborated further "Like, you never talk about your personal life - it's been months now and I still don't even know that much about you."

What was he supposed to say to that? "Oh... well that's the whole point to a secret identity?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's okay. It's just surprising," she explained. "Did you see it in theatres?"

"What?"

Michelle sat down beside him, mimicking his position. "The Titanic, how old were you?" Peter blinked; The Titanic came out before either of them were born.

"I-I didn't see it in theaters. It was a DVD." Michelle seemed embarrassed. "How old do you think I am?" He asked curiously.

"I just….I guess I was expecting- I don't know, Tony Stark. Sort of. Shouldn't have assumed." Now Peter was the one feeling awkward.

"What do you want to call me?" he asked after a long silence.

"What?"

"I can't tell you my name, but I'll go with whatever you choose."

"So…..Karen?"

"Michelle, shut up." They laughed, but there was a moment where she seemed thrown off by his exact choice of words.

"'Spider-Man' it is."

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[goddessjuliawicker]

Marina always comes home to bitch about her day to cupcake which 99% of time include complaining about Julia. The complaining eventually turns into rambling like Marina just won't shut up about julia. Then one day Cupcake just knowingly meows at her and Marina goes, "C'mon, don't give me that. I don't talk about her THAT much."

               Okay,this is far from my best but I was really excited to write a short Cupcake fic!(And if you’ve requested something I swear I’m working on it)

Marina took care in putting herwards up, she always did. The extra few minutes it took to be well protectedwere worth it. You never knew what, exactly, was lurking in the shadows.Besides that, when you had more enemies than Caesar you could never be surewhat would try to break in and stab you in your sleep. With her wards upMariana stepped through her Manhattan apartment, letting her hair out of thehigh ponytail. The brown and red tresses tumbled over her shoulders and she letout a sigh of relief.

Everything was going according to plan.Some little Brakebills Brat was trapped in his head and to save him Brakebillswould have to let their wards down. It was too perfect and almost too easy. Theonly thing she had to worry about was Julia bitching out on her. That was areal concern. Julia had all the power in the world, she just needed to nut upand use it. All Marina could do was wait. Everyone else was back at the SafeHouse, preparing for the strike on Brakebills. Marina would have just enoughtime to go home, take care of her affairs, and get back without anyonewondering where she was.

“I swear to god, she’ll either begreat, get us all killed, or join in with pot smoking Wiccan wannabes,” Marinasaid to her almost empty apartment as she lit up her candles. Flipping on hercoffee maker, Mariana turned to lean against the counter and sigh. “I mean, whodoes she think she is, really? She knows…nothing, in the grand scheme ofthings. Sure, she’s powerful, but she wasn’t even enough for Bitchbills. Atleast I went.”

Her attentive audience consisted ofa hungry black cat with a single tuft of white fur under his red collar. Helooked up at Marina with mild interest, though he was probably more interestedin the canned food he knew she was hiding in the cabinets behind her. The catlooked like he should’ve been named Lucifer, or Midnight, or Panther. Instead,his name was Cupcake. He had been living in a dumpster outside of a bakery almosta year prior, shivering from the cold and so thin Marina could feel his ribsthough his skin. Now, he was plump, happy, and waiting for his dinner. Cupcakehad seemed like an appropriate name for a cat found at the bakery. Besides, hewas sweet, just like a cupcake.

Rather than immediately feeding Cupcake,Marina began pacing the kitchen, much to Cupcakes displeasure. The cat followedat Marina’s heels as though silently reminding her that dinner existed and hedidn’t have any. “She’s getting cold feet. I can already tell. She’s going todo…something, I just know it. I don’t know what yet, but I know it’ll besomething. Maybe I should take Pete with me when I go to get my memories back.He’s got power,” Marina mused before shaking her head.  “Actually, I can’t stand Pete for more thantwo minutes at a time. Someone would notice if I was with Kady. God, my topthree Hedgewitches and I can’t depend on any of them. Granted, depending onpeople is stupid. That’s why I have you.”

Kneeling down, Marina ran her handalong Cupcake’s back, eliciting a purr from the tom cat. He rubbed against heras though to reassure her that he loved her as much as she loved him. They didn’thave anyone else. Marina couldn’t trust people and Cupcake had been abandonedon the street to fend for himself. They were together in this mess, for betteror for worse.

“I swear, Cupcake, the moment I getmy memories back we’re really going to move up in the world,” she said as shepicked her cat up, rubbing her chin against his head. “No more play magic. Nomore cutesy little spells to impress Hedges. No more dealing with bullshit. We’llhave everything we ever wanted and more. As long as Julia doesn’t fuck it up. And I feel like she will. She carestoo much about people who don’t matter. People who have already thrown her away.”

Cupcake booped his head againstMarina’s cheek and meowed. He was probably saying something like ‘Bitch, feed me’but Marina took it as him agreeing with her.

“I know. She’s just the worst. Imean, sure, she’s strong as hell. But she has absolutely no idea how to use whatshe’s got. She needs to get rid of her ties and focus on what she’s doing orshe’ll be stuck making glitter illusions her whole life. It’s all ‘Oh, myfriend got into Brakebills and I didn’t, woe is me’,” Marina said, raising thepitch in her voice to do a bad impression of Julia. She sat Cupcake down andstarted digging through the cabinets.

Agitated, Cupcake let out a loud ‘meow’and sat down.

Marina rolled her eyes. “I do not talk about Julia that much,” shesaid as though Cupcake could actually communicate. “It’s just…she’s new, yaknow? I’m getting a feel for her, figuring her out. All I’ve figured out isthat she’s annoying and can’t focus and is probably going to get us all killedtomorrow. I mean, if she thinks that saving her friend is more important thangetting those memories then she’ll learn exactly what I can do. Brakebills educationor not,” she snapped, slamming the cat food can down on the counter.

Kneeling down she gave Cupcake hisdinner, which seemed to satisfy him and Marina ignored her coffee in favour ofsitting on the floor and petting him while he ate. “I wish people were morelike cats. If I feed you and pet you then you’ll love me and I know you won’tbetray me for someone else. We’ll make it, Cupcake. We always have. Me and you,against the world.” She pulled her hair back and took a deep breath, filling upher travel mug with coffee. “You be a good boy. By this time tomorrow we’llhave everything we ever wanted. Everything we deserve.”

[thegloober]

How to Actually Be Helpful When Your Partner Hates Their Job

“Karen from sales is such a bitch!” your wife laments when you’re washing the dishes. You already know this. You’ve heard all about Karen. You’ve also heard about the office’s shitty hours, the company’s lack of employee care, and your wife’s overall frustration with her current situation. She hates her job.

It’s frustrating to hear your partner complain about her job, because you feel for her and want to help her but also because listening to anyone gripe about work for extended periods of time is worse than watching Kevin Can’t Wait for 12 hours straight. You want to help, but all you feel useful for nodding like a Bobblehead and repeating, “That sucks” and “I’m sorry” until your sound chip fritzes out.

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This is to say that it’s easy to feel unable to help someone who’s frustrated with their position — or that you’re adding to their frustration by not knowing what to say. That’s why we spoke to several experts — relationship gurus, career coaches, and even a quitting specialist — who gave us a handful of real, actionable tips you can implement when things start nearing a boiling point. We know you just want to be there for your partner. Here’s how you can.

Withhold Problem Solving

When you have a partner who hates her situation, your first instinct is to try and fix it, right away and for good. Ignore that urge. “Problem solving is socialized in boys from a young age,” says Elizabeth Earnshaw, Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist. “When people have problems, they don’t want problem solving at first. They want understanding.” To show that understanding, Earnshaw suggests telling your partner her feelings resonate with you. “Simply saying something like, ‘It makes sense to me that you don’t like it there. I wouldn’t like it either if my boss acted like that.’ shows that you’re trying to communicate without solving the problem. It’s validating, and validation makes people feel understood. That’s what your partner wants.”

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Always Ask If Your Partner Wants Advice

“Let your partner finish venting before you offer suggestions,” advises Earnshaw. “At that point, phrase your willingness to help by saying, ‘I have some ideas…are you open to hearing them?’” According to Earnshaw, any solution you’ve considered, your partner probably has too. You can still hear what she’s considered, and try to understand why she hasn’t acted on those ideas. “If your partner doesn’t want to hear your ideas,” says Earnshaw, “and she’s driving you nuts because she’s not taking any action, let her know that in a kind and tactful way.” Try something like: ‘It’s been so hard to watch this, and know how unhappy you are. Would it be okay if I emailed you the ideas I have?”

Limit and Schedule the Griping

You don’t want to silence your partner, of course, but dwelling on such a negative situation will inevitably do more harm than good for both of you. “Make it clear to your partner that you can only listen to so much complaining,” says Corlata Zee, Career Success Strategist. “Arrange a daily ‘griping session’ with her. She’s got 15 minutes to say whatever she wants, no questions asked. Then, to quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, ‘Finish the day and be done with it.’” Earnshaw agrees. “It’s important to set a boundary,” she says. “Doing so creates space from the issue, which allows you to let her know you want to listen to her attentively, but you also need time to decompress and have fun with her.”

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Have an “Us Against Them” Attitude

“You have to let your partner know you’re on her side,” says Earnshaw. “Whatever happens, you have to let her know that you’ll be there. It’s really a matter of taking a stance that aligns with hers, and you can do this a number of ways.” Some of the more juvenile ideas  — mocking her boss or annoying co-workers, or constructing a dartboard with the company logo on it — can help lighten the mood, albeit temporarily. “Even though it may be immature, sometimes mocking the boss along with her can deescalate the situation while helping you bond,” says Earnshaw.

Ask Clarifying Questions

Earnshaw suggests using questions from the Gottman Method of couples therapy to help illuminate the specific whats, whys and whos of your partner’s job woes. “Reduce your partner’s stress around the situation with these questions,” she says. “What’s most upsetting about work these days? What specifically don’t you like about it? How is it making you feel? What do you think you need to be in a better place? What’s the worst thing that can happen in this situation? Is there anything I can do to support you?” Asking these specific questions, which will lead to more in-depth conversations, helps people discuss their feelings fully, and feel more understood.

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Start A Journal

According to Lynn Marie Morski, MD, Esq., author of Quitting by Design, and host of the Quit Happens podcast, a journal is the perfect way to pinpoint the source of your partner’s strife. “You need to figure out exactly what part of her day brings her from equanimity and a place of peace to a place of stress or anxiety,” she says. “Is it just the boss? The coworkers? The commute? Or, is it her entire career? Scan back over the day and help your partner write down any time she felt anxious, upset, angry, nervous, etc.”

A smaller issue — like a gnarly commute — could possibly be remedied by asking to work from home here and there. “For me, prior to quitting a startup I had co-founded, I noticed that, every time my email notification would go off, my stomach would drop,” says Dr. Morski. “The goal is to tune into those types of occasions, and decide whether the entire career needs to go. Or just the job. Or just your department. And so on.”

Set a Quit Date (To Plan Your Finances)

Hopefully quitting will fall somewhere near a last resort for your partner. Even still, it’s good to have a plan for the worst. So plan a quit date.  Until that time, Dr. Morksi advises , you and your partner can see what it’s like living on a lower salary than you’re living on now. This strategy is helpful for two reasons. First, it will help you pare down what you actually need so that you can look for a certain salary range in a new job, and second, it will help build up a financial reserve in case finding a new job takes time. Dr. Morski also suggests analyzing month-to-month, taking into account how much you both spend in the winter versus the summer, for example, and how much reserve would suffice during your job hunt.

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Don’t Just Suck It Up

“Rarely is there anything that you should have to ‘suck up’,” says Dr. Morski. “If your partner’s venting is driving you to dread, distress, anger, or annoyance, then it’s quite likely that her situation is starting to affect your mental health. Maybe even your physical health.” Dr. Morski advocates confronting the issue, in a calm, tactful way. “If your partner cares about you, she shouldn’t want to be negatively affecting your health. Have a calm discussion, but focus on the effects, rather than your partner’s actions. Try something like, ‘I understand you’re under a lot of stress from this job, and I’m always here for you to talk to, but the fact that I can’t do anything to help makes me feel useless. Would you be open to working together to make a plan to get you out of that job so you won’t be under so much stress anymore?’”

Source: https://bloghyped.com/how-to-actually-be-helpful-when-your-partner-hates-their-job/