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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

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Ghosts & Icing

A/N: this request is adorable and I hope I did it justice!! I went with the seasons 12-15 gang because then there would be a ton of kiddos and also I love Luke Alvez and he deserves the world :)

TW: None fluff city

wc: 2.0k

Masterlist

“Spence, where does the green skeleton go? Between the pumpkins or next to the gargoyle?” You called up to Spencer, waddling over to the many boxes of Halloween decorations that your husband had accumulated over the years.

It was barely September 30th, and you were already decorating for his most beloved holiday. You didn’t mind; you loved him and he loved Halloween. So, naturally, you loved Halloween too. Before you met Spencer, you hadn’t even so much as carved a pumpkin each year, and the last time you wore a costume was at a college frat party. Well, if wearing a set of cat ears and drawn on eyeliner whiskers can even be considered a costume. According to Spencer Reid, it is not. But here you were, wearing a shirt covered in jack-o-lanterns and ghosts that barely fit over your protruding belly. Oh how life can change.

Spencer appeared seemingly out of thin air, looking frazzled, his hair more disheveled than usual, some fake cobwebs tangled in it, and orange lights draped around him like he was a Christmas tree.

“Don’t touch anything!”

You put your hands up in defeat, “Alright, I’ll let the Halloween king decorate his castle.”

You pottered over the front stoop, sitting on the hard concrete and watching him put fake cobwebs and oversized spiders in the bushes. You leaned back, rubbing your belly softly. It wasn’t that big, only twenty-four weeks, but you felt like you had stolen one of Spencer’s beloved pumpkins and shoved it under your shirt.

When you saw him again he was breathless. Only he could be overexerted from decorating.

“Should I put the tombstone next to the Frankenstein head? Or should I make a mini graveyard in the lawn?”

You grinned, admiring his child-like enthusiasm. He rarely had that anymore. Honestly, after all the real life horror he saw, you were surprised he still liked a jump scare. The second hand fear you felt for him everyday was more than enough; you didn’t need Freddy Krueger to supplement.

“I think you should do whatever you want, Babe.”

He groaned, “You’re no help!” “You’re the one that told me to not touch anything, Reid.”

He smiled, “You’re right, but now I need you to touch something.”

You wiggled your eyebrows and stood up, making your way to him. You smoothed out his sweaty t-shirt and moved his hair from his eyes, “I’ll touch whatever you want.”

He stifled a laugh, “I-I didn’t mean like that; that job has been done. I meant like you could put the ghosts along the walkway while I set up the orange and purple lights.” As soon as he finished saying it, the box of ghosts were in your hand and he was untangling lights.

“Hey! You forgot something!”

He stumbled over to you, looking side to side with wide eyes “What? What’d I forget?”

You puckered your lips and he smiled, planting a kiss on them.

“Thank you, and you better shower before everyone gets here. You stink Reid!”

“So do you, Reid! Love you!” He called after you before making his way back inside to find more decorations.

“Purple is the color of the seventh chakra, which represents the third eye and clairvoyance, so purple has become closely associated with the holiday as it is very spiritual in nature. Actually, purple has a rather complicated color symbolism because it is the mixture of calm blue and passionate red. The emotions attached to it vary, depending on whether or not it is a blue based purple or a red based purple. Which is actually an interesting conundrum when you look at the color spectrum-” Spencer rambled to the table of children and their parents who were just there to decorate sugar cookies and admire the ghost stickers on the walls.

Matt laughed, “Thanks for that, Reid. But I think Kristy was just complimenting the lights on the mantle.”

Everyone laughed and Spencer flushed a light shade of pink. You came up to him and admired the mess of a kitchen table in front of you.

On one side were the Jareau-LaMontagnes. Henry was old enough to try to make a ghost, but Michael was still too little to sit in his own seat. He was on Will’s lap, patting his hands on orange sprinkles and watching them stick to his little palms. Then he would clap and watch them fall to the ground around him, giggling every time.

“I’m real sorry about the mess, Y/N,” Will said in his sweet southern drawl.

You smiled, “Hey, I said we’d host Halloween cookie day. I’m more than happy to clean it up. Plus, it’s practice for this guy.” You patted your belly and he smiled.

On the opposing side of the table was the ever growing Simmons clan. David and Jake were squeezing green icing out of bags trying to make Frankensteins, and their younger sisters were hogging all the purple and drawing flowers on the cookies shaped like bats.

The kids weren’t the only ones having fun though. You set up a separate table for the adults. It was kind of like those wine and art nights, but in this case the art was edible.

Penelope got the short end of the stick (in her book at least) and was sitting next to Luke, aka Newbie, “You cannot just hog all the red icing! I swear to GOD Luke Alvez!”

Luke puckered up his face and mocked Penelope, “I swear to GOD Luke Alvez!”

“Oh SHUT UP SHUT UP! Just because you’re all macho and handsome doesn’t mean you get to hog all the icing!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t need the red icing if you hadn’t insisted on making the skull rainbow.”

Penelope groaned and looked across the room at you and Spencer, begging you to help her. The two of you just laughed and you leaned into Spencer’s side.

“When do you think she’ll finally admit she’s in love with him?”

Spencer laughed, putting his hand on the small of your back, “Never. Garcia is many things, and stubborn is one of them.”

Rossi was next to them, sitting back and not participating in the icing war that was going on in front of him. He just warned them that they better not get any on his brand new Italian silk shirt.

“It’s handmade, you know, only fifteen were even made. I had to call a guy who knows a guy who knows the maker’s sister to get one.”

JJ rolled her eyes, “Sure Rossi, and this shirt was actually worn by the Queen of England.”

She gestured to the black shirt she was wearing which clearly said, “Happy Halloween Witches!”

Dave scoffed, “Listen, Jennifer, I know Liz well. She would never wear something that tried to replace the word ‘bitches’ with ‘witches’. She’s classy.”

JJ laughed, taking another gulp of wine, “Liz? So what… you guys are on a first name basis?”

He shrugged, “Let’s just say, if Philip wasn’t in the picture…”

They were interrupted by Henry coming up to his mom and showing her the ghost cookie he had tried to make, “Do you like it, mom?”

“Wow dude! That is one scary ghost,” she said, taking it from him and licking some stray icing off her fingers.

He grinned proudly, and insisted on showing his favorite Uncle Spencer.

“Uncle Spence! Come look at my ghost!”

Spencer looked over at you, silently asking for permission to leave your side. You smiled and waved your hand, “Go! But please don’t get black icing on the ceiling again. This year, you’ll be the one cleaning it.”

He smiled and sat at the ridiculously small kids chair, looking like a giant, and picked up a few piping bags to make his own creation.

Suddenly Emily and Tara appeared next to you, holding an empty bottle of wine, “We need a refill, Mrs. Reid.”

You still blushed at the use of your married name, no matter how many times you heard it, “Follow me to the wine cellar, ladies!”

The two of them followed behind you as you walked carefully down the steps, “Spencer usually doesn’t let me down here. He says the steps are unsafe.”

“Uh, yeah, if I had known how narrow and steep they were I would’ve just asked you to direct me,” Tara said, looking for the light switch on the wall. She found it and soon the three of you were staring at the dark walls of the basement.

“Okay, maybe I lied. It isn’t so much a wine cellar as it is just a regular, creepy old basement.”

“Full of spiders,” Emily added, swatting at a cobweb on the extremely low ceiling. Spencer had to crouch when he came down here.

“That’s what you get for buying a house built in 1920, Y/N,” Tara added, as they both began sifting through the stray bottles of wine in a box on the floor.

“I know, but Spencer insisted because it ‘adds character.’”

“Being married to that man, I don’t know how much more character you need,” Emily said, pulling out a bottle of cheap Barefoot red wine, “I bet you miss this.”

You rubbed your belly, “I said I’m bringing a bottle of wine in my hospital bag.”

Tara laughed, “And what did Dr. Reid say to that? ‘Actually, Y/N, you can’t have alcohol in the hospital.’”

“No, no, I bet it was more like, ‘did you know that alcohol is a depressant? It slows down your cognitive functions, thus making it much harder to care for a newborn baby.’”

“Hey! Stop making fun of my husband!” you said, the two women looking as if they’d just seen a ghost, which was rather fitting for the occasion, “Only I get to do that!”

The three of you laughed and they helped you hobble up the stairs, where you were met by a sight you wished you hadn’t seen.

The first person you saw was Matt, white icing all over his red shirt and arms, and Kristy laughing next to him, using a finger to swipe some up and put it in her mouth. Next were the four Simmons children, each with varying amounts and colors of icing and sprinkles all over them. Then you saw Will, who for some reason had a chunk of cookie in his hair, and Michael on his shoulders. JJ was behind them, grabbing Michael’s hands and trying to wipe all the stickiness he had accumulated off of them.

Next was Rossi, who had an unmistakable drop of red icing on the arm of his Italian silk shirt. If he was a cartoon character, he would’ve had steam coming out of his ears. Garcia and Luke were next to him, each looking mortified and blaming the other. Garcia was smacking his arm lightly and Luke was shielding his face.

Then your eyes found the person you always looked for when you entered a room, and Spencer looked the worst of them all. His fluffy hair was matted down in places with green icing, cookie crumbs all over his cheeks and stuck in his scruff. His sweater was once cream colored, but now it was a mixture of green, purple, black, and gray. His hands were covered in icing and sprinkles and he was spinning Henry around in a circle.

You stood there and admired the scene in front of you for a moment, before Tara cleared her throat.

“What is going on here?”

Everyone stopped, and immediately Henry spoke, “He did it!”

He pointed straight at Spencer, who put his hands up, “Me? What’d I do?”

“Uncle Spencer started a food fight!”

“No, I think it was Garcia,” Rossi said and the room fell into a roar of laughter; Tara and Emily eager to get in on the fun and dip their own hands into some icing.

You admired them all one more time, rubbing your belly softly, before also diving head first into a mess of sprinkles and ghost shaped cookies.

This was your family, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer x you #spencer #dr spencer reid #cm #criminal minds #cm fic #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler

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red-doll-face · 4 years

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keeper. [michael myers x gn reader]

Part 2 is finally here! A few people were asking if I would do a sequel and obviously the answer is yes, but this is the last part. I hope u enjoy reading it ! 😳💖

here is the link to the first part: locked in.

Summary: ‘Missing Persons Case? Infamous Murderer Prime Suspect.’ ‘On October 31st, at 12:02 a.m., a phone call was made to the Haddonfield police department. When reporting to the scene several officers and the deputy reported signs of a struggle. Stray pieces of glass and an open back door lead to a possible B&E as well as a suspected kidnapping. Though usually that would be an apt assumption, because of Michael Myers’ suspected involvement, some speculate it may not even be a missing persons case. According to the leading officer on the case, the case may be an outlier but “Myers is definitely a suspect. If not him, at least a copycat”. The search for the Haddonfield resident continues but the chances of this particular victim being found alive have never been so low.’

WC: 3,835

Warnings: kidnapping, nsfw content (smut scene) , implied minor character death (he tries some funny business so he deserved it). A spider, Stockholm syndrome, Michael being a bastard. I will say that the smut is somewhere between dub con and consensual. This is Mikey so be careful.

You don’t know how long you’ve been inside of this dark room. The smell of dust and mildew makes you not want to breathe but you’re used to not having choices anymore. Everything you’ve tried to get out always ends in failure or worse: Letting your kidnapper know that you tried to get out. He’s caught you in the act and ripped you away from the windows many times. Crying and wailing don’t seem to appeal to his conscience at all so you’ve stopped wasting the water. You sit in the room and can only be glad that he hasn’t restrained you or tried to tie you up. But you understand it’s because he knows that he can always stop you from leaving. Can always drag you back.

The door opens and you snap your head up to see your masked kidnapper enter the room you’re holed up in. He’s holding a bag of what you know is whatever he stole. The paper bag he carried was crisp and new but you could see just a faintest spray of blood. The assortment of common grocery items he placed at your feet painted a mental image of a suburban mom just coming home from the market. Stopped by some impossible force. Just to feed you. You wished you could spring forth tears but you had already shed so many. They’ve done nothing for you. You almost didn’t want to eat but you couldn’t deny the loaf of bread. Counting on his will to feed you was dangerous. If he lost track or forgot, you could potentially starve or die of dehydration. You took what you could where you could get it. Where he would let you.

He watched you, lingering in the dark corner. You thought that maybe he felt more comfortable there. You sat among a pile of various fabrics tossed upon a mattress. You hated to think that he prepared to take you away. But it was so hastily thrown together, it was obvious that while you were passed out, he had collected what he could. You doubted that he would have really cared about the ache in your sitting bones, but the fabrics underneath you were better than nothing. He could be crueler. Being grateful put a bad taste in your mouth but you sensed that he favored killing his victims rather than stashing them away. You listened for hours, quieting your breath when you were sure he was gone to see if you could hear anything else. There was no one else here.

Dirty fingers slipped along the plastic wrapped around the bread. You hadn’t been given a bath since you got here and you had been doing your best to keep track of the days since you arrived. 2 days passed from what you could tell, not accounting the amount of space that he took bringing you here. You couldn’t be sure what he planned for you or how long you would end up staying here but you tried to keep your mind sharp.

A bucket of cold water and a rag would have to do for bathing. It was better than nothing but again, being grateful to your kidnapper made you feel like you were betraying yourself. The rag swept across your skin and he had left the room to you, giving you privacy. At least you hoped that he wasn’t watching. He liked to watch. You had a feeling he had been watching you for hours before you had even taken notice that something was wrong. Acutely aware of your presence in the house.

You sighed and replaced your clothes, moving the tin bucket to the corner. You wondered what your parents thought. Now that you were missing, was anyone looking? Did people at school do a vigil for you? Did people put up posters? The thoughts made you uncomfortable but you couldn’t resist. The world moved on with or without you. You regretted not listening to your friends. They had warned you and you had dismissed it as some legend. He should have killed you. Your boredom and thoughts would probably end up killing you first. You noticed that the man in the mask stayed here more often. You thought it might have been to avoid the search parties. But you knew he wouldn’t let them close enough to find you.

He stared at you from his familiar dark corner. And you stared back at him. You tried to show as little fear as possible and in a way you weren’t afraid. He hadn’t done anything that the kidnappers did in the movies. Didn’t cut your finger off to send to your parents for a ransom, did not tie you up and starve you, hadn’t used you for baser desires. You couldn’t understand why he kept you. All of his victims in the past either died, or escaped and moved away. His footsteps, although near silent, tracked away and out the door, wedging the heavy wooden slab against the door frame.

A few weeks later, or as far as you could tell a few weeks later and you had tried just about everything. He had no veritable patterns, so you could never tell when exactly he would be back or not. The sun filtered through the window that was nailed shut and you had tried to throw things at it. It left hairline fractures in the glass instead of crashing through. The screen on the other side would probably keep you in anyway.

Recently, you tried to talk to him. It hasn’t worked. He wouldn’t or couldn’t talk which made you feel awkward but you weren’t able to stand the silence anymore. You had to hear something; even if it was yourself. You talked about your life, as boring as that seemed. You had realized that explaining it made it seem more boring than ever. In your mind, you joked that the future you worried so much about was out of the picture. A sick part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to think about that age old question. It brought a wry smile to your face as you brought your knees up to your chin and watched the moon float in the sky, as if tethered to the Earth by a string.

Michael had just learned your name. It rolled around in his head and if he wanted to say it he would, but he wouldn’t. He had kept you here in an abandoned house left to the elements. He observed you closely and picked up on your tells, the way you twitched and shivered in the cold, the blank expression on your face that was close to his own; he lacked the thoughts that flitted behind your eyes. He had caught you trying to leave but he took a rare joy in stopping you. Dragging you back into his hold, kicking and yelling obscenities. You started talking to him but he didn’t respond. He didn’t keep you here to talk.

Michael was more motivated by the thought of owning you. Of you belonging to him. You would see no one else, you would talk to no one else, you would receive food from no one else. You needed him. And he liked that he did not necessarily need you. Upon meeting you, something had drawn him to you. You were difficult to keep track of and you knew what tricks he would try to get you. He had watched you, heard you, touched you, smelled you, and even tasted you. The thought of you had imprinted on him. In a strange way, he hated that he was so taken with you. Perhaps he should have just killed you. You were of no use.

Then who would he toy with? Trap and torment without that much of a penalty? You were no fun if you were dead.

One night, the autumn cold and rain scented winds drove a stranger to your little hiding space. You were fast asleep but the creaks you had attuned yourself to listening out for sounded off. In fact, he seemed to be making more noise than usual. You thought that he might have been injured or something, loud footsteps echoing up the stairs. Only when you heard a voice did you suspect that it might not even be the man in the mask. The words were unintelligible but they made you shake all the same. Someone was here! Maybe they could help you out.

The wooden door swung open slowly and a bedraggled man stepped inside, not noticing you until you stood from your pile of musty fabrics. You presumed he was some sort of squatter, simply seeking respite from a harsh world.

“Hey, what are you playing at?! Who’s there?” He pointed a small switchblade in your direction and you raised your hands.

“Please! You have to help me! He’ll- He’ll be here any minute!” You scrambled away from the blade, your explanation dropping his guard.

“What the hell are you talking about? Who? Just what are you doing here anyway?” He dropped the pack he was wearing on his back to the floor and you gulped. “Are you some sort of runaway? Little moneybags left their family for a bad-boy-boyfriend? Think he’ll share with me? I’ve got some-”

“What? NO! I’ve been kidnapped by some murderer and-” The man chuckled and inhaled deeply.

“I can smell a lie a mile away, sweetheart.” He began closing in on you and you couldn’t believe your bad luck. In the darkness behind the man, the pale face came closer and closer and you tried to look away to hold his element of surprise. You had never been so glad to see that unfeeling mask in the doorway. The man startled at the hand pulling him back. His element of surprise worked as the man shouted and swiped at the man with his switchblade. Your keepers knife however was much larger. He slashed at the hand holding the little knife and he dropped it. He dragged the man out of your room, clawing at the walls.

“Get him off’a me! Tell him to sto-” As if you told your own kidnapper what he could and could not do. The man kicked the door closed, muffling the pleas. Your chest moved with your panting and you tried to calm your racing heart. Your fingers shook with the settling thought of how wrong that could have gone. It was as though the floor moved beneath you and you registered your body colliding with the for once comforting pile of cloth. The little knife caught the light from the window glinting at you temptingly. You didn’t dare touch it.

After that, you had approached the man with less fear in your heart; not that there was much to begin with. Yes, you were aware of what he did to people on his nights out. You supposed he stalked them a lot like he did you and eventually, when he tired of staying hidden in the shadows, he would wait for just the right moment to strike. Like he did with the squatter. You never did find out exactly what he had done to the man but when he returned he was covered in blood, wet and shining on his jumpsuit. You didn’t really care because he was gone and he had taken him away for you. He checked your body over your clothes for injuries, satisfied with verifying when he found none on your skin. You allowed him to turn your limbs this way and that, his hands big enough to cuff your wrist entirely and overlap.

“He didn’t touch me.” His breath was heavier sounding behind his mask, his head tipping up to acknowledge your comment but equally as unresponsive as usual. His hand swiped down and picked up the knife that the homeless man dropped on the floor, boots tracking over the blood he caused to spill. He left you to your devices after he took the switchblade away but something white fell on the floor, just before he closed the door behind him. It was a thin plastic strip and as you turned it over you could make out words. A hospital identification wristband. Strange marks tattered the material and you could imagine where he tried to tear the thing off with his teeth. On it was his name and birthday as well as some meaningless numbers and letters. The words ‘Smiths Grove Sanitorium’ were starting to wear off but you lamented all the same. Your friends were right. His name was Michael Audrey Myers. You smiled at the middle name. You’re sure if he caught you saying it he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. The thought made you laugh.

Michael let you wander the house now. From room to room you drifted and explored the dusty house, searching drawers for interesting objects and when you asked nicely he lowered the attic stairs and let you look through the boxes of books and baby toys, long forgotten by the previous owners. Opening the kitchen cabinet revealed a brown recluse crawling among the contents and you screamed, shutting the cabinet way more quickly than you had opened it. When you turned the imposing figure of your captor stood behind you. You pointed at the wooden door of the storage cabinet. He yanked it open, the spider going still again at the presence of another disruption.

“You know that those are poisonous, right?” He looked from you to the spider, unphased by the possibility of it killing him. He picked the arachnid up and your eyes widened at the action. He didn’t think this little brown insect stood a chance of killing him. In a moment, the spider was crushed in his bare hand, curled up and stiffening. Did he just… squish a brown recluse with his own hand? It was dead now, what did you have to worry about? You shrugged and went back to exploring, thanking him passively. You could sense he was still behind you, silent as always. You perused the random kitchen tools and items, rusting keys and finished rolls of tape in designated junk drawers, empty containers and bottles strewn about the counters. Broken light bulbs and useless wires. You grew tired and sat on the plastic covered furniture, your captor content on listening to you read aloud.

“Do you know how to read?” You asked and he looked at you but only tilted his head. You scooted closer to him with a book in your hand. “When I was a kid, they taught me to read. I think it’s fun if you pick what you want to read about.” You pointed at words and he regarded your finger gliding over the page, your enthusiasm lost on him but the smile he could see was more genuine than the others he had seen. “One day, I’ll help you write something.” He had no use for writing but he stayed quiet, granting you this moment of peace.

His hand weaved in your hair, feeling the softness. You had raided the cabinets and found some strange liquid to slather in your hair, untangling as best as you could with fingers. You leaned into the contact, realizing your mistake too late. You had indulged him and he wouldn’t let you go back. His hand followed you, pulling you back by the silky strands. A soft yelp left your lips but he didn’t mind it. You had not been touched in so long that it almost felt good to have his thick fingers running through your hair. Shivers racked your spine at the feeling of his fingers at your scalp. He pulled at your coverings, hands petting at your bare skin, entranced by the softness. At the blood rushing just under the surface. You thought about stopping him but you had seen what happens to people who cross him. Even by accident. He seemed fascinated by the texture of your skin, you hated to think of the grimy fingers on your face but your fleshy cheeks attracted his attention. He had less than stellar hygiene but they seemed cleaner this time, acquiescing to his hand on your chin. You looked up at the bleached mask; it was unfair that you didn’t get to see his face or his emotions.

He always seemed to have some sort of advantage. Some sort of upper hand. Taller. Stronger. Bigger than you.

Soon, he bored of the skin along your arms and petted at your torso, squeezing you when he suspected you to be squirming. You were just ticklish, not like he understood that. He groped and clutched at your flesh, getting used to the sensation. You noticed that although you expected his hands to be rough and calloused, they were actually soft and warm, sweeping over your sensitive underbelly. His long digits inched closer and closer to your groin and your nervousness won over the simple truth you knew. Stopping him was impossible but maybe he would take your discomfort into consideration. Michael, however, was a creature who thrived off of spite. If he was told not to do something, he would do it.

In punishment, your wrist was gripped in a vice-like hold, held away from his prying actions. Your arm went limp in his grasp, listening to the steady low breathes escaping the small orifices in his mask. Placed in his lap like a toy, he continued, ripping the button from your pants, tearing the zipper down. Michael tugged your pants down, eagerly inspecting your legs and thighs. A brief intake of your breath directed him to your inner thighs, staying as quiet as possible to keep him from suspecting anything else. Eliciting that response might have been his goal because as soon as he heard it, he tried to get you to make that noise.

Whimpering gasps left your lips, very aware of the bulge grinding underneath you. His bruising strength did not falter even when you tried to twist out of it. Slow movements ran over your crotch, you could only watch as Michael pushed your underwear out of the way. He was keenly attentive to every little noise slipping past your parted lips, repeating whatever made you make it. He let your hips buck against his leg, your despricity an amusing display. Your muscles are weak, your breath just as feeble. Your skin is warm and your heart beats fast in your ribcage, you can hear it in your ear. He pushed you forward enough for his hand to unzip his coveralls, the layer removed helps you feel the scorching heat of his body behind yours, unnaturally warm against your spine. Michaels hands loosened from around you long enough to pull himself free of the deep blue fabric of his coveralls. Something hot and damp nudged at your inner thigh and you pushed up and away from it.

“I- I’m not-” You choked out, as a last ditch effort to see if he would stop but he didn’t, spreading your legs and reveling in the whine you let out. You weren’t even sure if you wanted him to stop. You figured he would punish you for objecting as a strong palm found your throat, threatening to crush the delicate bones underneath. He shoved himself inside of you anyway, a groan of something between pleasure and pain caught in your mouth. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, listening to the tiny noises he made at the reprieve your body offered him. He had never spoken but the overwhelming sensation it seemed could force him to make a peep. They were not loud but the small grunts and slight moan made you tremble. If your head wasn’t resting on his shoulder, you doubt you would have heard them at all.

Thighs spread over his thighs, hands laid over his hands, gripping at your hips to help the slow motions of his own. Blood under his pale skin ran hot and you perceived that same heat all around you, his frame large enough to make you feel so small. Not just physically. The warm organ penetrating you was bigger than anything like it that you had seen before. Pressure welled up inside of you at the force he built up to take you so roughly. His pace changed just slightly and you lost connection to the outside world for a minute. The hold on your hips tightened, his concentration changed to the space between your legs, stimulating the sensitive skin. The smell of iron, latex, motor oil, and Michael enveloped you as you turned your head, nuzzling into the neck of his mask and the collar of his jumpsuit. The head of his cock nudged just the right spot inside of you and your mouth fell open in a loud moan. Around your head, a haze formed, the pleasure taking your ability to breathe. You craned your head back to see his eyes through his mask, electricity running through your limbs and into your core. The color of his iris wasn’t clear through the shadows of his mask but one was a milky white, blinking lethargically in tune with his other eye. Cold latex, the nose of his mask just touching your heated cheeks made you sigh, the pressure in your lower belly finally snapping like a twig underfoot. You went slack in his embrace, warmth settling deep inside of you. He wouldn’t let go of you.

‘Search for Haddonfield Resident Finally Called Off.’

This weekend, a press conference was held in front of the Haddonfield police station where Sheriff Brackett announced that search efforts for the missing person who disappeared from Garrison Ave. last Halloween would be revoked. After months of no clues or progress and no signs of them or their suspected kidnapper, search parties have stopped gathering to comb the woods and corn fields surrounding the town. The family of the missing person stated that they would not be ceasing the search. Their parents agreed that “the police have been helpful but they’ve given up.” Nonetheless, “[They]’ll never stop searching for [their] baby. Never”.

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #halloween #slashers #slasher x reader #dbd x reader #dbd the shape #dbd michael myers #dbd #red writes #✋😳#🤭

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marvelgiggles · 4 years

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Tread Lightly

Tony Stark x Peter Parker x Morgan x Reader

May I present to you @ilovefanfics2019‘s prompt.

Up Next: I have 4 original prompts coming out in the next two weeks and then I will be posting more prompts.

You had to put a hand on your sister Morgan’s mouth to prevent her from revealing that both of you were in the lab watching your dad and your boyfriend, Peter tinkering in the lab. You were watching both of them from one of the many entrances into the lab. Morgan and you decided that Peter and your dad were working too hard on projects in the lab and they needed to lighten up a little bit.

You had set up an air horn under a table in the lab. You set a small weight under one of the table legs, which was hooked up to a remote control car and you had the remote. All you needed to do was move the toy car so the table would rest on the airhorn so it would blare into the lab.

“Y/N/N can we do it now?” Morgan whispered to you and you nodded. You let her push the button to move the car forward under the table. The blare of the airhorn let loose. You watched both Peter and Tony jump and cover their ears and run around trying to find the airhorn. Peter finally saw it under the table and shot a web at it and pulled it from under the table.

Tony turned to see both you and Morgan sitting the doorway trying not to let the giggles pour out of your mouth. Once you saw the look on Tony’s face, “Morgan run!” you yelled and the both of you bolted into the living room with the other Avengers. "You are both going to pay for that.” Tony yelled as he and Peter chased after the both of you.

You saw Morgan run and hide behind the chair Natasha was sitting in, and you knew where both Peter and Tony would come into the living room so you hid near the exit.

“Avengers have you seen either of my offspring?” Tony announced when both he and Peter ran into the living room with the others. All of them shook their heads except Thor.

“Baby Stark is hiding behind lady widow’s chair and the Stark that is dating the spider boy is behind the both of you sneaking out of the living room.” You saw Peter turn in your direction with a wicked grin on his face. You took off running out of the living room in search of a safe place to hide. You heard Peter’s footsteps behind you.

“Y/N you’re just going to make this worse for yourself.” Peter yelled as he continued to chase after you. You knew this compound like the back of your hand I mean you helped your dad design it. “Get back here Y/N.” All of a sudden you felt a sticky substance on the back of your shirt and you were getting pulled backward towards Peter. He quickly threw you over his shoulder and made his way back towards the living room.

“Peter this isn’t fair.” You were lightly hitting his back and trying to squirm out of his arms but you were unsuccessful. You heard Morgan’s hysterical giggles as you got closer to the living room. Once Peter finally made it back to the living room you saw Morgan being held in your dad’s arms and was being tickled silly. “Dahahahahaddy. Stahahahahahap.” Morgan giggled as your dad started to blow raspberries in her neck.

Peter gently set you on the ground and quickly sat on your waist and looked at you with an evil smirk on his face. “Peter don’t do this.” You grunted as Peter was trying to wrestle your wrists into one of his hands. Although, he lost his patience and webbed your wrists together above your head.

“But Y/N you are so cute when you’re getting...TICKLED!” Peter said rapidly started squeezing all over your stomach and rapidly switching positions. Peter had you giggling instantly and the fact that your arms were stuck above your head made the sensation worse because you knew that you couldn’t defend yourself.

“Nohohohoho.” You giggled as you tried to squirm out from under Peter.

“Wow! Y/N you’re really ticklish.” Peter said playing dumb, the two of you had tickle fights all the time so he knew exactly where to tickle you and how to tickle you in every one of your spots. “I should see where else that you’re ticklish.” Peter then moved to up to your armpits.

He wrapped his hands behind you so he could tickle your shoulder blades but he also had his thumbs in each armpit. He rapidly started to vibrate his thumbs and you shrieked before you let out hysterical giggles. “Wait your ticklish here too! I’m going to have to remember that!” Peter was still playing dumb. What was with all this extra teasing today?

All of a sudden Peter stopped tickling you and looked down at you endearingly. You were too drawn in by his eyes so you didn’t see where his hands ended up going. He was squeezing right above your knees. You cackled with laughter as you tried your hardest to kick your legs out of his grasp. Although all his weight on your waist was preventing you from kicking very much. “What’s so funny Y/N. Why are you laughing so hard?” Peter continued to tease you as he moved his hands to your inner thighs making you squeal with laughter.

Once again Peter let you have a breather and continued to look down at you with mischief on his face. He slowly spread a smirk across his face, “Y/N I just have one question for you. Does this tickle?” He rapidly started squeezing your sides all the way up to your armpits. Sometimes he went at the same pace or he’d switch it up that neither of his hands were in the same spot as the other. You were going crazy with hysterical laughter, you desperately tried to scream out ‘YES’ but you were too far gone with laughter. This didn’t cause Peter to stop though.

Through tear filled eyes you saw him lean down toward your face, you knew exactly what was coming. It was Peter’s favorite way to get you giggle. You started to crane your head so Peter couldn’t get anywhere near your ears or neck.

“Seriously Y/N does this tickle? Just please tell me!” Peter said quietly to you to further send you into hysterics with him rapidly tickling all over your body and then further teasing you. You can’t process anything in your mind, you were seriously regretting pranking your dad and Peter. Eventually you couldn’t keep up trying to divert Peter and he finally was able to put his head in-between you arm and right ear.

To make the situation worse he was whispering in your ear in the most ticklish way possible. Saying things like, “Y/N I need answers. Does this tickle or not?,” “Why aren’t you answering me?” I need to know. Please please tell me?”

“Alright Peter, I don’t want my daughter passing out.” Your dad finally spoke up. Peter gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and stopped tormenting you. You looked up to see that your dad stopped torturing Morgan and must have for a while because she was contently sitting on Natasha’s lap, breathing normally and her face was normal coloring. Unlike you.

“I’m sorry.” You giggled out as Peter got off of you and you tried to get up but forgot that Peter webbed your hands down.

“I’ll go get the web dissolving fluid.” You dad mentioned as he made his way to the lab where they keep an unlimited supply.

You turned your attention back to Peter and he was lying next to you with his head propped in his hand. “You know Y/N, you never answered my question. Does this tickle or not?” He poked your side.

“Yehehes! Nohohow stahahahap!” You giggled still frustrated you couldn’t fight back yet. Thankfully, Peter stopped and waited until your dad came back to dissolve the web around your arms. Once you were free, Peter gathered you in his arms.

“Tread lightly Y/N. You know that I will gladly do this again prank or no prank.” He told you as he picked you up and made his way to the couch to cuddle you further.

#tickle ticklish #peter parker #fluff #mcu tickle #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #ticklish reader #ticklish!reader #mcu tickle fic #tickle marvel #tickle fluff #marvel tickle #avengers tickle #tickle avengers

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rubberducky-jrr · 4 years

Text

Be My Saviour - Part Two

Summary: After the argument with Peter, the guilt was eating away at you. You hoped a night at a charity ball would help fix things... If only you had known how wrong you had been.

Pairings: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader, Happy Hogan x May Parker, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts

Warnings: Swearing, blood, mentions of anxiety, underage drinking (Peter and reader are 18, but that is under the legal drinking age in the USA)

A/N: Thank you for the response to this series, likes/reblogs are much appreciated. Let me know what you think of part two.

Series Masterlist General Masterlist

***

“Hey kid,” Tony greeted as he walked into your room later that night after Bruce had sent you to bed to get some sleep. “You alright?” He then asked, looking at you laying across your sofa.

You just groaned, pulling yourself up slowly to allow your dad to sit down next to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, a small smirk on his lips.

“I heard about your little... argument earlier,” he began.

“God, nothing stays private in this tower,” you grumbled to yourself.

“It’s a tower full of spies and supersoldiers, what did you expect?” He asked, causing you to groan yet again.

“Why are you here? I was happier when I was alone,” you said and Tony pretended to look offended. He then dropped a small, rectangle card onto your lap. It was an invitation to the charity event this weekend for Peter and May.

“Are we in the Middle Ages or something? People send invites through email now, old man,” you said with a smirk, picking up the invite and looking down at Peter’s name written in Pepper’s handwriting.

“Pepper says this is more personal. Anyway, I need you to give this to Peter at school tomorrow,” he said and you let out a sigh, nerves rising up within you at the thought of seeing Peter again.

“Can’t you just give it to May?” You asked, dropping the invitation onto the coffee table.

“I have a multi-billion dollar company to run, I don’t have enough time. Whereas you just have to go to school, be brave and give him the damn invite.”

“Yet you have enough time to be pain in my ass,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I feel the same way about you,” he replied before he gave you a gently nudge. “Chin up kid, just go talk to Peter and everything will be fine,” he said and you just hummed, not believing your dad’s words one bit.

***

Peter wasn’t at school the next day and you couldn’t help but think that it was all your fault and that he was trying to avoid you. You had texted him to see if he was alright, even if you had an argument you still cared for him.

Peter: I’m fine, just sick. You stared down at your phone before sighing, placing it back in your pocket and getting on with the day while trying not to think of Peter too much.

Having failed to do that, you decided to go see Peter after school, wanting to make sure he was alright and to drop the invite off. You popped into Delmar’s Deli to pick up Peter’s favourite sandwich before heading to Peter’s apartment.

You knew the code into the apartment building, Peter having told you ages ago. As you made your way up the stairs, you felt your chest tighten. You took in a deep breath to calm your nerves, knocking on their front door a moment later.

“Hey, Y/n,” May said once she had opened the door.

“Oh, hi May,” you said, glancing into the apartment to see if you could spot Peter.

“He’s hiding away in his room,” she told you.

“How is he?” You asked, wondering if May knew the true reason he had skipped school today.

“He’s... To be honest, he’s not really in the talking mood so I don’t know,” she said, sadness fluttering across her features.

“I uh... I brought him his favourite sandwich from Delmar’s and an invite for the charity event on Saturday,” you said, holding out both of them for May to take.

“I’ll pass them onto him,” she said before going to the shut the door as you turned to leave.

“Oh, May,” you called and she paused. You bit your lip, your heart sinking as all you wanted to do was run into Peter’s room and give him a hug. “Will you tell him I’m really sorry and that... I uh, I feel the same way as he does.”

May frowned slightly at your words before nodding. You gave her a quick smile before turning and making your way home.

May looked down at the invite before walking to Peter’s room. She knocked gently on the door, hearing a faint “come in” a second later.

Peter was sat on his bed with the curtains slightly drawn, fiddling with his web shooters.

“I’m assuming you heard all that?” May asked and Peter nodded, not glancing up at her and simply focusing on his wrist.

“Here.” May placed the wrapped sandwich and invite on the bed next to him, causing him to glance down at them. He grabbed the sandwich, not realising how hungry he was until he could smell the bread and meat.

“She... She remembered,” Peter mumbled, having unwrapped the sandwich and seeing that you had asked for it to be pressed down flat for him.

“What?”

“N-Nothing,” he quickly added before May sat down on the bed, a hand going to rest on his knee.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She asked and Peter glanced up at her with slightly puffy eyes, indicating that he had been crying recently.

“We had an argument,” Peter admitted, letting out a deep sigh.

“What about?”

“I-I stood up to Flash for her but she got annoyed and well... Things escalated,” he explained. “I was jealous and then she was jealous of Liz... And basically she found out I’ve been madly in love with her since the second I met her,” he rambled on, May nodding slightly as she listened. He sighed, looking down to the bed with a heavy heart.

“You did just hear what she said though right?” May asked and Peter ran a hand through his hair, tugging roughly at the knots. “Because it seems to me like she’s head over heels for you too.”

“It’s not that easy though, May.”

“You kids and your drama,” she teased and Peter just gave her a look of annoyance to which she chuckled at. “All I’m saying is that you just need to go for it. Be brave, use that confidence you have as Spider-Man to ask her out on a date.”

“I...” He let out a groan, knowing May was right. He just had to get over his awkwardness and the lack of self-confidence he had around you and just ask you out.... Not as hard as it sounds, right?

***

The day of the charity ball came and May was sat on Peter’s bed, wearing a beautiful black and red dress while smirking at him fumbling over how he looked.

“The suit is designer, complements of Tony Stark, who has been named the best dressed man in the world for eight years running now... I think he picked the right suit for you Peter, so just relax,” May said and Peter took a deep breath, trying to let go of all the nerves he had for tonight.

“Okay, yeah. It’s going to be fine,” he said to himself in the mirror.

“Not that I condone underage drinking but you might want to have like one glass of something to calm your nerves,” May teased and Peter just rolled his eyes.

They made their way to the charity event, cameras flashing and people shouting for photos. They made their way in and May was dragged away by Happy a second later. Peter found a seat at the Avengers table, glancing around trying to find you.

His eyes finally caught you, causing his heart to skip a beat. You were in a strapless light blue dress, your lipstick complementing it perfectly. You sat at the bar with Sam, a glass of red wine in your hand.

You laughed at whatever Sam had just said, the smile on your face warming Peter’s heart as he watched you. He forgot all about your argument in that moment, just focusing on how beautiful you were and those words you had said to Aunt May.

I feel the same way as he does. Peter saw you turn, glancing around the room to spot May. He saw your face change slightly to a sort of hopefully expression as you glanced further around the room. Your eyes finally settled on the person you had been searching for.

Him.

He gave you a tight smile to which you returned with a full beam of a smile. Peter watched you mumble something to Sam, causing him turning to glance at Peter before smirking and nodding to you. You slowly slid from the bar stool and walked over to him. He straightened up slightly, his heart rate increasing significantly.

“Hi,” you said, the glass of red wine still in your hand and a small smile on your face.

“Hi,” he replied before you glanced back at the area where people were dancing to the music being played by the band.

“Care for a dance?” You then asked, placing the red wine down before holding out a hand for him.

“A d-dance?” He stumbled, not realising there would be dancing and not having prepared himself. “I uh... I can’t really dance.”

“It’s alright, I’ll lead” you said with a wink before taking Peter’s hand and pulling him up to stand. He followed after you, his chest tight with nerves.

“You do know the dancing position though right?” You asked and he nodded, slipping his hand easily around your waist.

“I’m not that stupid,” he mumbled in response and you chuckled, your hand going to rest on his shoulder as the band played some soft, classical music.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you began to lead Peter slowly around the dance floor.

“I’m alright now,” he said and you smiled at him softly. “Thank you for the sandwich by the way.”

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to apologise and I know you love them... Thought it might cheer you up,” you said with a small blush.

“It did. Apology excepted, although it should be me apologising to you,” he said and you shook your head slightly.

“Let’s just leave it now,” you said with a smile and he nodded. He glanced down at his feet, making sure he wasn’t near to stepping on your toes. You moved your hand from his shoulder to his chin, gently lifting his face back up to look at you.

“Relax,” you began, a thumb stroking his chin before your hand returned to his shoulder. “Nice suit.”

“T-Thanks, Tony sent it me,” he began and you smirked at him. “What?” He asked, sensing you were hiding something.

“Notice the blue tie,” you said causing him to glance down. “It matches my dress,” you then added and he blushed slightly. “Honestly, my dad is trying so hard to match us up.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” you replied with a soft smile, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. He blushed slightly, his heart pounding hard against his chest. He noticed how your heart rate had picked up slightly too, your own blush rising up on your cheeks.

After a while the song finished and you both made your way back to the table. Natasha dragged you away to the bar, smirking at you and then Peter as she did. You returned ten minutes later with her, Clint and Sam following with more drinks.

Peter watched you from across the table as you laughed loudly with Natasha, wine glass in hand. You spilt some onto your dress, Natasha quickly grabbing a napkin to help but you just shrugged, not bothered by the stain.

He watched you finish your fourth glass of wine, thankful that you shook your head when Sam asked if you wanted another.

“I’m good, anymore and I’ll be rolling home,” you joked.

“Good point, you’re on the water from now on,” he said before patting you on the shoulder and heading to the bar with Clint while Wanda walked over to talk to Natasha. You leant back in your chair, head spinning slightly as the alcohol took its affect on you.

You glanced up, feeling Peter’s eyes on you. He sat up straight when you locked eyes, clearing his throat as he glanced away. He looked back a few moments later, thinking you had looked away but you hadn’t.

You gestured for him to come over and sit next to you, which he did.

“Hi,” he greeted. You gave him a soft smile, turning slightly to face him.

“Hey Peter,” you said, your hand going to mess with his tie. “You look really cute,” you mumbled before realising what you had said. You glanced up at Peter to see he was blushing deeply.

“T-Thanks,” he said, glancing down at his tie and then your hand, before slowly tracing up your arm to meet your eyes. “Y-You look really beautiful in that dress, even with the stain.” You chuckled, your hand dropping from his tie and down at your dress. You sighed, the red stain standing out bright on the light blue.

“Can I be honest with you?” You suddenly asked, catching Peter off guard.

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

“I’m not feeling too good, Pete,” you told him. “Wine always does this. My dad’s going to kill me,” you grumbled before closing your eyes and slowly beginning to lead onto Peter.

“Alright, I think it’s time to get you home, save you from all the paparazzi photos... And your dad,” Peter said, standing up before wrapping an arm around your waist. He helped you stand, holding you up when you swayed slightly.

Suddenly, Peter’s senses kicked in, the hairs on the back on his neck rising. He frowned slightly, quickly glancing around the room.

“You alright?” You asked a second later, sensing Peter tense around you.

“Somethings not right,” he said before quickly dragging you over to where your dad was flirting with Pepper at the bar. She let out laugh before noticing you both walking up to them.

“Peter, are you alright?” She asked, causing Tony to turn around, eyes scanning you before locking onto Peter.

“Somethings not right, my senses are-“ His head suddenly shot to the side, eyes fixed on the entrance. “Get down!” He shouted, quickly pushing you down to the ground and protecting you.

The building shook, a loud explosion sounding from the entrance of the building and blowing out the front doors to the ball room. Your heart was in your throat, chest tight as you let out a soft scream as the building started to collapse. People around you started to scream in fear, causing the Avengers to spring into action.

Tony’s three-piece suit disappeared behind his iron man suit, a metal shield forming out from his hand. He held the shield upwards while grabbing Pepper, bits of ceiling landing harshly on top of the metal shield.

“Get her out of here!” Your dad shouted at Peter, tucking Pepper under his arm as Peter pulled you up from the floor.

“Let’s go,” he mumbled, his web shooters forming around his wrist from his watch.

People around you were screaming, running towards the exits as quick as they could, pushing and shuffling to save themselves.

Peter held your hand tight, ducking and swerving around the crowd. His grip on you was the only thing that matter, the only thing keeping you calm.

Suddenly there was another explosion, shaking the ground and making you lose your footing. Peter’s hand slipped from yours as you fell onto you hands and knees.

“Y/n!” He shouted, turning to go to pick you up but being dragged by the crowd away from you.

“Peter!” You called, beginning to pull yourself up before you were knocked down by someone rushing by.

The next thing you heard were loud screams from around you, the column next to you falling before everything went black.

***

Tony, along with the rest of the Avengers had managed to get as many people out as possible in the chaos. It was a fraction of a second after making sure Pepper was alright when Tony realised.

“She’s not here. Neither is Pete,” he said and Pepper looked up, worry lanced in her expression before she turned to look at the burning and crumbling building.

Suddenly Peter came stumbling out, a crowd of people pushing him along until they were all clear from the entrance. He took a moment, eyes scanning the area for you, for your light blue dress. He had lost you in the crowd and had hoped you had managed to get out.

“Pete, where’s Y/n?” Tony called, coming up to him. Peter’s heart pounded hard in his chest as he sensed you weren’t here.

“She... S-She must be still inside,” he mumbled, fear gripping him as Tony quickly pushed past him, running into the building. Peter was close behind, Steve going to grab him to pull him back to safety. However, Peter ducked under his arm, running away Tony.

There was smoke everywhere, the last few other people scrambling their way out of the building with Bucky’s and Sam’s help.

“Y/n!” He heard Tony scream your name, his red armour reflecting in the fire that was quickly consuming the building. Peter closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath in as he focused.

It took him a few seconds but he finally heard it, picking up on your faint heartbeat from the left.

“Mr Stark! Over here!” He shouted, scrambling over some rumble before crouching to grab part of a large column. He grunted slightly, muscles straining as he shifted it.

“P-Peter...” you mumbled, looking up from where you were curled up underneath a bit of ceiling that had gotten trapped and had thankfully not squashed you. His heart broke when he saw you, dust and blood covering your pure dress, eyes red and full of tears, you body shaking with fear.

“I got you,” he said, scooping you up into his arms as Tony finally caught up with him. He scanned you quickly for injuries before blasting the nearest wall to get out into the street.

***

The ambulance crews surrounded you and other guests, making your heart beat hard as anxiety rose, everything around you being too much. You glanced up from where you sat on the side of the road with May’s arm around you, a paramedic checking you over while your dad angrily talked to Peter.

“I told you to get her out,” he said, his face serious. Peter stepped back slightly, nerves rising from under Tony’s harsh gaze.

“I’m sorry Mr Stark, everything-everyone was suddenly surrounding me and pushing me, I-I’m really sorry-“

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” he snapped, Pepper taking a step forward and placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He slumped slightly as Happy walked over, looking a little shaken but well.

“Dad, I’m fine now, it’s not Peter’s fault,” you began, waving the paramedic off as you pulled yourself to stand, May following. Peter stepped forward to help you up. “Besides, without Peter and his senses you may have found me too late,” you said and Tony clenched his jaw as Pepper rubbed soothing circles on his arm. “Can we just go home?” You then asked and you dad’s expression softened.

“Of course kiddo, let’s go,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing your head. He then turned to Happy who pulled out his phone to arrange cars for everyone. The drivers brought the cars around a few minutes later, Peter by your side with his arm around your waist.

“Will you... Will you come back with me for a bit?” You asked Peter, who stared blankly at you for a second in shock. He pulled himself together, glancing at May who just gave him a smile. He looked back at you, giving you a small nod and causing you to smile softly.

You got into the car, eyes heavy and tired as the adrenaline calmed and reality began to set in. You had nearly died. You rubbed you face before sighing, resting your head against the window and just wanting to day to be over.

Peter glanced across at you in the back seat a few moments later, seeing you asleep against the window and causing him to let out a small smile.

Once at the tower, Peter lifted you up to carry you to your bedroom. He pulled the sheets back from your bed before gently sliding you into it, removing you shoes for you before tucking you up in the covers. He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face.

He smiled down at you, his heart fluttering and chest swelling with the feeling of warmth he had towards you. You let out a content sigh, cuddling into the pillow before falling silent again.

Peter’s smile, if it was possible, grew even wider as he watched you sleep. He leant forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling up to stand. He turned to walk to the door but stopped when he heard you mumble his name. He glanced back at you, your eyes still closed but lips slightly parted.

“Peter,” you breathed, turning your head slightly as you blinked your tired eyes open. “Will you stay?” You whispered, holding out a hand to take his. He cupped your hand in his, stroking a thumb across the back of it. “Please.”

“Okay darling, I’ll stay with you,” He said softly. You let his hand drop so that he could walk around to the other side of the bed. He removed his shoes and tie, followed by his suit jacket.

You felt the bed dip slightly as he climbed under the covers. You rolled over to face him with all the effort you had left in you. Peter smiled as you cuddled up to his chest, letting out a small sigh.

“I love you, Peter Parker,” you breathed before falling easily back asleep.

Peter’s eyes widen at your words, his heart rate quickening within a second. He took in a shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

Oh my god, she actually feels the same way? She actually loves me? Wait no, she’s just drunk. It was clearly the alcohol talking.

Peter looked down at you, realising then that you faking being asleep. He could hear your heart beating fast and hard against your rib cage, your breathing shaking slightly.

“There’s uh... There’s no point in me trying to fake being asleep right now, is there?” You asked, knowing his spidey senses could hear your heart beating fast.

“Not really, no,” he said, his hand stroking up and down your arm. “But by all means, take your time.”

You laid against him, eyes wide as you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to say. You slowly lifted up from him to rest on your elbow, his arm dropping to the pillow you were just laying on. You caught his eyes, trying to read his expression and failing.

He looked... hopefully? Or maybe nervous?

“Uh,” you began, swallowing down the nerves before continuing. “So you-you heard that right?” You knew the answer but asked anyway. He gave you a small, awkward smile.

“Yeah, I uh... I can hear your heart beat so yeah, I definitely heard that,” he said and you nodded, glancing down at the bed.

“So... It’s true, I do like, love you,” you said, deciding to just dive head first into this conversation. “And I’m really sorry for the whole thing with Flash. I didn’t know you felt the same way and I should have told you sooner because like tonight, you know, it’s always life or death being an Avenger... Or the daughter of one I guess. So yeah, I uh...” you were stumbling for words now. Peter took your hand in his, stroking a thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“I said those things in class because I was jealous,” he admitted and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You were jealous of me and Flash, a thing that was never a thing? What about you and Liz, I had to deal with a whole year and half of that stupid dumb look on your face whenever she was around,” you said, not realising how harsh your words sounded.

“I... I thought you could never like me because well... Look at me and then look at you,” he said, glancing down at the bed. “Liz was just... I don’t know, a distraction from you.”

You frowned at him, trying to take in all his words and process each and every one of them.

“I don’t know how many flirty hints I dropped you over the past year. You know, considering that your like a child genius, you do lack common sense,” you said and Peter let out a laugh, looking at you and pretending to be offended.

“Wow, says the other child genius. I’m sorry you’re so perfect.”

“You think I’m perfect?” You asked and Peter locked eyes with you, his face serious now. He lifted his hand from yours to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone as he let a small smile appear on his lips.

You were getting lost in his chocolate brown eyes, so full of emotions and love. His smile melted your heart and you couldn’t help the sickly sweet feeling rising up in your chest.

“You are everything to me,” he whispered.

“Peter...” you breathed before he slowly leant forward. He kept his eyes on you as you began to lean forward into him too, your lips inches away from his. Your shaky breath brushed against his skin.

He glanced down at your lips, pausing before glancing back up at you. He could sense your nerves, sense your heart skip a beat as he finally closed the gap between you both.

His lips were soft, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck. He breathed you in, your lips tasting a mixture of strawberry and red wine. Your rose perfume washed over him as his senses went into overdrive.

Nothing else in the world mattered except you right in front of him, your lips, your smell, everything about you.

You finally pulled away from the kiss, slightly breathless and cheeks a hint of pink. He leant forward, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice soft and brushing against your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

He pulled back to look at you, placing a soft kiss on your lips before leaning back down into the bed. He opened his arm up for you to cuddle up into his chest. You laid there for a while, just listening to his soft breathing before sighing.

“You alright?” He asked and you groaned, rolling away from him and off the bed. “What’s wrong?” He then added in concern.

“It so much effort being a girl, you guys can just climb into bed while I have to remove my makeup and sort my hair out,” you grumbled, walking over to the bathroom as Peter let out a soft chuckle.

You emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, having slipped out of your dress and into your PJ’s. You cuddled back up to him after giving him an oversized t-shirt to wear instead of his white suit shirt.

He looked down at your sleeping form a few minutes later, you having fallen asleep very easily due to the wine. His heart swelled with love and a big smile appeared on his lips. He let out a happy sigh before cuddling into you, pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on top of your head.

He fell asleep in mere minutes and he had to admit in the morning, even while he was dealing with the hungover mess that you were in, he was the happiest he had ever been.

Part Three

***

Taglist - Sorry if tumblr won’t let me tag you, message me and we can try and sort it out

(message or comment if you want to be added to the taglist):

@missmulti @rocknrollqueenie @astoldbydanid @roserrys @bbkaikes @avengersazemble @thesmolgreek @spider-starry @thatfangirl77 @elena-amethesyt-rose @bobblewonka @musicalmarvels @britishbutnotbritish @tom–hollands @fandomfreak1000000 @daddyswitchygirl0621 @spideydobrik @icantevenanymore1 @spxcedxdddy @relatable-trxsh @fallingstar95 @blushinglite @loking99 @youvebeenlizzed @fangirling12566 @makowoh @ilovelilies @http-peter-parker @jwolfesblog @thebestkindofchocolate @tiktok-spideyy @babzsworld2001 @aimeera-a @mcuavengex @android-313-248-317-51 @dark-magic-phoenix @nadazkr @nagasamii @fantastic-fans @tryingmybest-lol @theclarissewhocriedwolf @summerbbygirl @justcallmehitgirl @panda-duuu @sporadicvoidzippereclipse @hipstermalik3 @dreaumville @anecdoteaddict @kathleenbriar @kye06 @nicole-michelle8 @lovelyspiderman04 @omeliaslexie @stargazingholland @honeymarvel @kissingtruth @bisexual-child03 @toro-bell @imagine-avengers-harry-potter @spideygirl2003 @taylorswiftloverforever13 @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @admirablegranger @herondalism @jarvis-play-despacito @gabby913 @the-greatt-perhaps @farfromjustordinary @watson-emma @eridanuswave @myladylight @percabeth-and-the-blue-muffins @that-crackwhore @calkestisisbestis @0crazy-ppl0 @fandomfreak1000000 @peters-oreo @audreylovespidey706 @peterparkersgfsblog @fifteenshadesofno @paradise508

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark #pepper potts #may parker #aunt may #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker series #spiderman x reader #happy hogan #tony stark x pepper potts #peter parker fanfic #fanfiction #my work #be my saviour #marvel

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calamity-callie · 4 years

Text

The Wrath of Thunder Descends: Part 2 (Wiztober - Trusted Ally)

If you haven’t read the first part yet its not strictly necessary, but it’s right here! Also this entry is a monster hunter crossover bc I adore both games and have wanted to do something like this for ages~

Edited by @spiralcompendium

CW: Strong language, violence. These two wizards have insane potty mouths.

Lamentia sullenly sat on her bed, alone in her dorm room. “I lost?! How is that possible? How could I lose?” She ran the results of her duel with Calamity over and over in her head, replaying every turn and rethinking every possible move. The channeled insane bolt, the medusa, the basilisk: “Maybe if I’d blocked that goddamn stun… Nah, I just needed to hit harder, that’s all.” She got up and went over to her desk, her mind set on one thing - rewriting her off-the-cuff spell to be even stronger. She wrote it down then began examining it line by line.

O wrath of thunder, I implore, descend

‘This line’s perfect, nothing to fix here,’ she thought as she moved on. Scanning the rest of the lines though, she found multiple places where words could be switched around, rearranged, and made to evoke a wilder, more powerful, almost monstrous energy. “This. Now this is perfect. This’ll blow their fuckin minds.” With her modified spell written down on a scrap, she set out to the forests beyond Unicorn Way to test it out.

Once beyond the boundaries of the Unicorn Park, she began preparing her spell. She found a small clearing where, while still shaded by the thick canopy, there were at least no large trunks to cause a disruption. She pulled out her paper and began to read in a commanding voice.

O wrath of thunder, I implore, descend From portal formed of cold, unearthly spark With speed of wolf and strength of glowbug squall Release thy wild self unto this world

Lamentia held her breath as a breeze began to pick up. Static filled the air as, sure enough, a portal to another forest began to open up. This forest was far more alien though, looking almost as if it were a massive above-ground coral reef. “Alright, come on big lightning bolt! Any second now… come on, come onnn…” Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the loudest roar she had ever heard. Just as her poem had suggested, a beast unlike anything she had ever seen lunged out of the portal and directly at her, knocking her onto her back.

It was an incredibly large four-legged creature with silver and gold scales on its body and white fur on its back. Two large yellow horns sat atop its electric blue, dragon-like head, with two yellow ridges running down the entire length of its back and tail. The entire beast seemed to glow with a strange, otherworldly energy. Standing over her, it began to howl. As the sound escaped its large maw, she could see glowbugs from all corners of the forest being drawn to its fur, integrating themselves into it. Once they had stopped coming, the beast howled a second time, while its whole body was momentarily enveloped in a blinding flash of electrical energy.

Lamentia scrambled to get up before the beast tried anything and ran off into the underbrush to hide and gather her thoughts. “Well, fuck, that wasn’t supposed to happen. What the fuck do I do now…” She reached for her bowgun - gone. She must have left it in the tower or in her room. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she cursed her forgetfulness silently. She hesitantly peered out through the leaves to see the creature pouncing around the area, sniffing the air as it moved. It was only a matter of time before it sniffed her out. She needed a plan, fast. Remembering her old spells, she began to recite a couplet in hopes of getting a surprise attack in.

O king of deep, o lord of ocean’s maw Arise and with thy trident smite this foe

Upon finishing the second stanza, a small portion of the clearing flooded entirely, allowing a triton to emerge. With a fishious roar, it raised its spear to the sky to call the lightning, directed it to rain down on the beast, then departed, taking the water with it. The impact was so bright and loud that for a few moments Lamentia couldn’t even see what sort of damage her spell had caused. “Fuck yeah, there’s no way anything survived that. I’m totally still the strongest wiza-” Her victory speech was stopped in its tracks as the lightning faded and the beast came barrelling out of the residual smoke. It had absorbed the full strength of the strike and seemed absolutely no worse for wear. Even worse, thanks to Lamentia’s ineffective spell and subsequent boast it now knew exactly where she was.

She quickly rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the lunge, but the beast wasted no time re-orienting itself. Spinning on a single paw, it attempted to slam its long, wide tail on the ground. While she was able to dodge these attempts, each tail slam dislodged a few now-agitated glowbugs that proceeded to release immense amounts of energy. Though she managed to avoid the initial impacts, one of the insects discharged a bit too close for comfort, sending her flying. Lamentia hit the ground a few meters away and lied there, motionless for a moment. She opened her eyes just in time to see the creature circling her with a menacing glare on its face. She again scrambled to get up, but this time, upon seeing the movement, the beast pounced.

Using the last of her strength, Lamentia pushed against the ground with all her might and just barely escaped being crushed by the full weight of the monster’s back. It laid there for a second before righting itself, and she took the chance to try out the quickest spell she knew.

O fire of the cloud, of fortune’s hand One hundred, ten, or thousand; your command

At this, a single thick bolt of lightning appeared from the sky and struck the beast square in the head. It didn’t even flinch, and Lamentia watched in horror as it simply absorbed all of the energy from the bolt into its already supercharged fur. She could see the beast readying itself for another lunge, and she uttered what she thought would be her last word,

“FUUUUCK!!!”

Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. Both Lamentia and the beast looked around the clearing to find the source of the shaking. There, across the small field, was a blonde punk girl who looked all too familiar. Her large gauntlets rebounded off the ground, which split apart at the impact point, and swallowed up anything that was small enough to fit. And the fissure was headed directly for the beast. It tried to get out of the way but didn’t have enough time--its back leg got caught in the crack. As it began to flail and whimper, the girl got up and walked over to Lamentia.

“Ugh, Calamity. Why’d it have to be you of all people.”

“I could have just let that thing kill you, but why would I do that? If you die here, I won’t be able to beat your ass in a duel again, will I!?” Calamity reached into her bag. “Here, I think you forgot this,” she said as she pulled out Lamentia’s bowgun and tossed it to her. “I can’t believe you’d just storm out like that and forget your things. By Spider, what an irresponsible rival.”

Lamentia scowled. “Fuck you, I don’t need this shit. Just… Help me get rid of this goddamn thing, okay?”

“Oooooooh, the high and mighty ‘best wizard here’ with the powers of a god needs MY help? Well, I’d be honored.”

Lamentia scowled even more intensely. “Just shut the fuck up,” she retorted.

“Well, the first thing you should know is that the fissure won’t hold much longer. We’ve already wasted quite a bit of time…” No sooner did her thought end than the beast finally tore itself free. “Looks like it’s go time! Hell yeah, this’ll be good!” Calamity jumped up and down, shaking her arms out as the creature turned its gaze to her. “I’ll keep it busy. Go, like, load your gun or something--whatever it is you do!”

Without saying a word, Lamentia ran back into the underbrush to prepare.

As the monster lunged, Calamity held her hands up and shouted a single phrase.

“BASILISK! LEND ME YOUR STRENGTH!”

Green and yellow energy began to swirl around her gauntlets. She lowered her hands, then squared up and braced herself. She timed her first punch just right to counter the lunge and hit the beast square in the nose. The two danced around each other: the beast lunged and flipped, slamming its tail and swiping its massive claws, while Calamity dodged, rolled, and weaved seamlessly around its every attempt to catch her, throwing punches whenever she had the chance. A hit to the leg, a hit to the face, a hit to the stomach - the location didn’t matter. Every hit not only slowed the beast down, but also infused more and more of the basilisk’s essence into the monster, until finally it fell over on the ground whimpering and writhing, having lost control of its muscles.

She looked over her shoulder and yelled, “You got that thing ready yet?”

“You know it,” came the reply. “Better move out of the way.”

Calamity stepped aside as Lamentia walked back into the clearing. She knelt down, rested the stock on her shoulder, and sent a low, steady pulse of storm magic to the firing chamber. The sound of machine gun fire filled the air as rocks, nuts, berries, seeds, pieces of bark, and whatever other vaguely round materials she could find shot out of the steel barrel at high speed, pelting the beast in multiple locations all over its body. Though the unconventional projectiles seemed ineffective at first, the incessant firing wore away spots of fur, eroded scales, and even broke off one of the majestic golden horns.

Soon, the creature began to regain control of its movements and stumbled to its feet. Calamity shouted, “It’s back, watch out!” as, sure enough, it lunged at Lamentia. Calamity ran after it and landed hit after hit on its legs and tail. Lamentia leapt out of the way and continued firing, reloading with various woodland objects as needed. The beast unleashed its full arsenal on the two, but between the small, repeated blows to its legs and the rain of projectiles on its head and back, it realized it no longer had the upper hand. It fled towards Ravenwood.

“Shit shit shit fuck shit no! We can’t let this thing get to the school!” Calamity yelled. “Lamentia, whatever dumb thing you did to summon this monstrosity, can you send it back?”

“Fucking of course I can, who the fuck do you think I am?” she replied. She indeed did know the way to dispel a summon gone wrong, but the technique was quite difficult - she would have to recite a very complex Counter-Verse, which involved correctly pronouncing many words that didn’t exist in any language. Failing could make the situation even worse, but she knew she had no choice.

She pulled her written spell out as Calamity shouted, “Hurry the fuck up then! We don’t have any time!”

“Goddamn! Be patient--I’m doing it!”

She slowly began to read.

Dlorw siht otnu fles dliw yht esaeler Llauqs gubwolg fo htgnerts dna flow fo deeps htiw Kraps ylhtraenu, dloc fo demrof latrop morf Dnecsed, erolpmi I, rednuht fo htarw O!

Upon completion of the Counter-Verse, another portal opened up, but this time she was unable to see through it to the other side. The beast stopped in its tracks and turned towards the new opening, drawn to it by the power of the spell. It jumped through, and a voice echoed from the other side as the portal closed. “Wha- a Zinogre? Here?? Where did it even come from? Alright, people, let’s drive this thing out!”

Calamity and Lamentia collapsed in the clearing, exhausted. “We fuckin did it,” Calamity gasped, out of breath.

“Damn right we did,” came Lamentia’s reply. She paused. “Hey, Calamity.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re alright. I guess.”

“You’re alright, too.”

“Now, now, don’t go thinking I like you or anything like that. I still wanna smash your fuckin ugly face in!”

“Hah, I’d like to see you try!”

The two laid in the field for a few moments before Calamity broke the silence. “Wanna go by Triton on the way home? There’s this cool bar there…”

“Calamity we’re underage, are you fuckin stupid?”

“Nah, I know the owner, It’ll be great!”

“You know what? You’re crazy. Let’s fuckin do it.”

‘Hell yeah.”

They fist bumped each other, then slowly got up and limped their aching bodies to the bar.

#w101 #wizard101 #wizzy fanfic #wiztober2020 #monster hunter fanfic #mhw #w101 mhw crossover #I think these are my 2 favorite OCs their dialogue is just so fun

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main-to-card-games-and-pain · 5 years

Text

irondad fluff

I couldn’t get this headcanon out of my mind, so I quickly wrote a little ficlet for it. It’s not checked over, and not great quality, but it would not leave my head until it was written. The headcanon was that Tony is secretly an excellent artist, and has an entire sketchbook of just portraits of Peter. I hope you enjoy it!

“Kid, hand me my workbook please,” Tony called from his bench, just barely looking up to shout the request.

Peter, who was just chilling on one of the couches doing homework, was quick to participate in any sort of procrastination. Teenage limbs jumped up in all their awkward glory, his finely tuned senses scouring the room for the requested item.

He spotted it on a worktable at the other end of the lab. Peter sighed dramatically, beginning his trek.

He felt like Valjean from the beginning of Les Mis. He decided to make Mr.Stark aware of this fact.

Tony rolled his eyes when he heard the first few notes of “Look Down” being hummed quite loudly from somewhere behind him, and he could tell that Peter was doing a stupid dilapidated walk with it. “It’s five feet away from you, 24601, stop being a teenager.”

“I am a teenager,” Peter whined, “and it’s not five feet away, it’s all the way across the stupid lab.”

At this, Tony did glance up, because he knew for a fact that he’d just seen his workbook on the coffee table behind the couch, so he didn’t know what Peter was going on about. The inventor almost had an aneurysm when he realized Peter’s mistake. The book was already in the teenager’s hands before the inventor could interject.

“Oh, uh, no, no, uh, no Underoos,” Tony shouted awkwardly as he hurriedly stood from his bench, the trinket left abandoned, “that’s not my workbook.”

“What do you mean it’s not your workbook? Yes it is,” Peter replied exasperatedly.

“I think I know what my own workbook looks like, thank you very much. You know what, it’s fine, I’ll grab it myself.” Tony feigned nonchalance crossing towards his actual workbook, picking up the admittedly similar looking book. He waved it sarcastically at Peter, trying not to give away that he was having a minor stroke at the kid just holding it.

“Well, then what’s this one? Cause you use it all the time.” Peter looked like he was going to open the book, Tony did the only thing he could think of. “Ow! What the Hell, did you just yeet a walnut at me?”

It was, admittedly, not the best quick response Tony had ever thought of.

“I’m Iron Man. I can do what I want.” Peter rolled his eyes and went back to trying to examine the mystery book. “Seriously kid, put it down and go do your homework.”

The thing that Tony should have realized about teenagers, is that if they think you don’t want them to do something they will do their goddamn best to do that thing. So when Peter sensed that Tony was trying to keep something from him a mischievous glint came into his eye, his smirk moving from the book to the inventor back to the book.

“Ah, shit" Tony thought, realizing his mistake.

“Is it like your diary or something?” Peter taunted, a coy smile breaking out on his face. “Dear Diary, Peter Parker is the best thing to ever happen in my life, he is perfect in every way imaginable.”

You’re not wrong kid.

“That’s none of your business, Spider-Baby, give it to me.” Tony advanced towards the kid, but he was a teenager, an enhanced teenager at that. And evidently, he had his web-shooters on.

As soon as Peter saw Mr.Stark get just close enough to maybe grab the book from him he was propelling himself up to stick on the ceiling.

“Pete, what did I say about going onto the ceiling?” DadVoice Activated. “And I told you, I don’t like webs in the lab, they take forever to dissolve and they leave stains.”

The teenager paid him no mind, straightening out so he was just stuck with his feet. “Mr.Stark you’re on the ceiling now too, you’re breaking your own rule.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes. “Seriously, get down.”

“Let’s see whats in here first.”

Tony was resigned to his fate at this point, there was no stopping a determined Peter. His cheeks flushed prematurely, his heart felt like it was beating ten times faster than normal. The book was opened painstakingly slowly, Peter’s breath catching a bit as he examined the first page.

“Oh,” the kid whispered, just barely audible, even with the total silence that had fallen in the lab. Peter flipped back upside down and hung from his fingertips, gently letting himself fall to the floor. “That’s me,” he continued, equally as quiet.

Because the mystery workbook was no workbook, it wasn’t even a notebook. It was a sketchbook, and it was full of drawings of Peter.

Tony didn’t try to take the book from him as he examined it, turning each page with a reverence and taking in every detail of every drawing. He watched as Peter sat in a chair, bent over the sketchbook, barely realizing that he was basically looking at Tony’s heart. The inventor never should have left the book out, he was usually so good of tucking it into his locked drawer.

Peter inspected each drawing, tracing each line with his finger.

They were pencil drawings of him, doing dozens of different things; working at his bench, smiling, sleeping, looking out a car window, eating, laughing, portrait after portrait showed Peter’s life through Mr.Stark’s eyes. The detail was so well thought after that each sketch looked like a picture. They must have taken hours to complete.

“Do you… do you do these from memory?” Peter asked, entranced.

“Some of them,” the mechanic replied with a whisper, “not all of them.”

“They’re good.” This was a moment, one that both mentor and protege feared would break if they spoke any louder than a whisper. “I always thought you were working on a Mark or something…”

“Yeah, well,” Tony breathed, struggling to find words, “Iron Man isn’t the most important thing in my life.”

Peter got to the end of the book, closing it with all the care of a treasure. Gently the teenager stood, offering his treasure back to Tony. The inventor wasn’t able to say whatever it was he was going to say before the kid had scampered away, out the window and into the world.

Now look what you’ve done, you freaked the kid out.

And it was completely understandable that Peter was freaked, it was probably super fucking creepy for the teen that he had a book of drawings he’d never known about. It was stalkerish, and he had no right, Hell, Peter would be fully justified in cutting contact.

Tony still didn’t know why he couldn’t draw anything else anymore. He’d drawn Peter for the first time when he’d been bored in the lab, and the kid had been sitting across from him, gnawing on his lip as he worked on his web-shooters.

Later, Tony looked at the sketch and felt such a swell of love inside of him because that was his kid. But now…

“FRIDAY, don’t let anyone into the lab, and turn up my work playlist,” Tony commanded with a heavy sigh. Peter probably wouldn’t be come around as much anymore, but he’d still promised the kid he wouldn’t drink if he got upset.

So Tony fully intended to work until he forgot how much the lab didn’t feel right without Peter.

Peter crawled through the window in one fluid motion an hour later, bag swung over his shoulder. He winced as the AC/DC grated on his sensitive hearing, looking around the lab for Mr.Stark.

“Mr.Stark?” He called, taking a few tentative steps forward. Was Mr.Stark mad at him for looking at the book when he told him to stop? “Mr.Stark, I’m sorry I left, I wanted to show you something.”

The music turned off.

“FRIDAY what the Hell, I didn’t say-” Tony emerges from his nook, where he’d been bent over working on a suit. He loses all the wind in his sails when he sees Peter standing there, completely unassuming. “Oh, hi.”

Peter furrows his brow, still grinning, cause Mr.Stark is being weird for some reason. “Hi, Mr.Stark, I just went home to pick something up. I wanna show you something”

Tony’s too dumbfounded, he honestly couldn’t understand why Peter would still want to be around him. “Sure, kid.”

Peter shrugs off his pack, his movements slowing as he removes a similar looking book from the pack, he almost looks timid.

“I have one too,” the teenager offers with a grin, self-consciously holding out the book for Tony to take.

The inventor wipes his hands of grease before accepting, opening the book as if it were a precious relic. Tears come unbidden to his eyes as he quickly realizes what Peter’s just shown him.

“I uh- I don’t draw as much and stuff, so I never really finished that sketchbook. Aunt May glued all those other drawings in from when I was like, seven.”

Peter had his own sketchbook to show, this one burst with colour. Crayon drawings stuck out on the edges, the inexperienced drawings of a child evolving into pencil crayon sketches of a pre-teen to present day portraits. And they were all of him, of Tony, Iron Man. Well, Iron Man in the beginning, and now Tony.

“Mr.Stark…?” Peter looked up at him with unhidden worry, Tony realized he was crying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“No, no kid, you didn’t upset me.” Tony wished he could find the words to tell Peter how much his life has gotten so much better since he came into it. How much Tony loves him. “These are great, they’re so, so brilliant kid.”

Peter’s cheeks were flushed, just like Tony he had been waiting for a rejection. He smiled at his mentor, nodding. “I-I was thinking… maybe, we can draw each other? In each other’s books though.”

It takes Tony off guard, but he realized almost immediately that he had never been more willing to do anything in his life. Anything to make this kid happy.

“I would love to Peter,” Tony says. “You are my world kid,” he thinks.

taglist:

@just-the-daydreamer @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @thetranslucentwallaby @friendly-neighborhood-ash @delphinium2 @ladyreyreigns

#irondad #precious peter parker #tony is a good dad #Peter Parker and Tony Stark #iron dad #fanfiction #writing #iron dad fanfiction #flufff #headcanon #what is quality? not this lol #reblogs are appreciated

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homespork-review · 4 years

Text

HOMESPORK ACT 5 ACT 1: Mobius Double Plusungood, Part 2

BRIGHT: Nepeta wants to know what’s going on. Aradia finally stops dodging the question and tells Nepeta she’s dead, but doesn’t elaborate on how it happened. She asks Nepeta to keep it a secret, which Nepeta agrees to. Aradia’s also picked up some froglike traits from being merged with the sprite -- namely a tendency to ribbit.

In retrospect, it’s kind of funny that an active player can merge with a sprite. The role of a sprite seems to involve having detailed knowledge of how the Game works and what the player should do next, but only dispensing vague advice to the player. Prototyping a player would give them full access to that knowledge with no sprite vagueness to get in the way. The Game doesn’t seem too concerned about that, though.

CHEL: Now it’s time to get to know AG better. A doodle of her declaring her to be a HUGE BITCH fades into her standing in her room. Rather gothic, and also filthy-looking; it’s dark, with a red sky outside, and cobwebs and broken Magic 8 Balls lie around everywhere. There’s a FLARP poster and numerous pages of notes on the wall.

Your name is VRISKA SERKET.

You are a master of EXTREME ROLE PLAYING. You can't get enough of it, or really any game of high stakes and chance. You have persisted with the habit even in spite of your ACCIDENT. But then again, you don't have much choice.

Your lusus is VERY HUNGRY, ALL THE TIME. She can only be appeased by the FLESH OF YOUNG TROLLS. You cloud campaigns for teams of Flarpers, utilizing your abilities for ORCHESTRATING THE DEMISE OF THE IMPRESSSSSSSSIONA8LE. Your victories supply you with treasure, experience points, and SPIDER FOOD.

You are something of an APOCALYPSE BUFF, which is something you can be on Alternia. You are fascinated by end of the world scenarios, and enjoy constructing DOOMSDAY DEVICES for the hell of it. You are drawn to means of DARK PROGNOSTICATION and the advantages they offer, particularly in gaming scenarios. Your abilities in this department were hobbled with the loss of your VISION EIGHTFOLD, and you have since sought alternatives through various BLACK ORACLES. You consult with these ominous globes, but routinely destroy them in frustration over the PUZZLING GUARANTEED INACCURACY of their predictions. Breaking them has developed into a habit BORDERING ON FETISHISTIC, and with each you destroy, you add to an insurmountable stockpile of TERRIBLE LUCK. You have to stop. But addiction is a powerful thing.

FAILURE ARTIST: FINALLY we get a name for her and we don’t have to keep saying AG. I imagine the non-Homestucks are feeling like I did when I played Danganronpa 2 finally and saw the “fingers-in-his-ass” guy.

CHEL: She examines a drawing on the wall, of her FLARP character MARQUISE SPINNERET MINDFANG, who is just Vriska in a different coat and seaboots, with a hook instead of her robot hand. She is the scourge of land dwellers and sea dwellers alike, and worst nightmare to silly BOY-SKYLARKS everywhere. She has accumulated more treasure and gained more levels than any member of the PETTICOAT SEAGRIFT class ever. She gained all the levels. All of them.

En route to her computer, Vriska steps on a D4, and complains about how she’s had terrible luck since her mysterious accident. I’d just like it noted that this is a small but noticeable occurrence of Vriska’s tendency to blame others for her problems; if she cleaned her room some time, that wouldn’t happen. Still, she doesn’t worry about it too long, as she’s busy.

So many irons in the fire. Such a tangled web. It is a web full of flaming irons and mixed metaphors.

BRIGHT: Vriska equips her weapon of choice, a set of enchanted D8 dice called the FLUORITE OCTET.

...okay, I’m getting used to characters having semi-absurd weapons, but seriously, what? Let’s review everyone else’s chosen weapons: Hammer, knitting needles, sword, gun, sickles, lance, clawed gloves, walking cane. Sollux had some throwing stars but didn’t assign them to his specibus owing to his telekinesis being enough; we haven’t seen Aradia’s strifekind yet, but she also has telekinetic abilities, and hers are apparently enhanced by her being dead. So that’s a lot of genuine weapons, and some things which aren’t weapons but can readily be used that way in a pinch...and then Vriska has a set of enchanted dice.

It’s a good fit both for Homestuck’s absurdity and for Vriska’s obsession with luck. But it does stand out rather.

Anyway, rolling the dice will execute a wide range of highly unpredictable attacks. Very high rolls can be devastating to even the most powerful opponents. Apparently these work everywhere, not just in FLARP games. Also, while we see ghosts, psychic powers, and superpowered coding, I think this is the only reference to plain magic we have on Alternia.

Vriska steps away from the computer to avoid talking to GA, who she refers to as an unwelcome solicitor, but returns to it when someone else starts messaging her. Vriska calls him this guy; he has no icon -- and, oddly, no username -- and types in white, which means the reader (and Vriska) ends up highlighting the conversation a lot.

Hello.

AG: Oh my god, why are you talking to me????????

This is the last time we'll ever talk.

AG: Still sticking with the white text I see. So smooth and stylish!

AG: I forgot how much I loved highlighting it to read all the 8oring things you have to say.

AG: It's like a fun game for super extra handicapped retarded people. Like opening a present! Find out what o8noxious thing the mystery tool typed.

AG: What is it!

A parting courtesy, I suppose.

All the ways I've exploited you were meant to bring about the events that will take place this evening.

Knowing this will provide context for the events in your near future, and will affect how you behave in response.

These events will be just as important as those preceding it.

I've gone to great lengths, you see.

Well, this guy sounds ominous.

Also, using ‘handicapped’ and ‘retarded’ as insults is entirely in character for Vriska, who has no time for people who can’t operate on her level. Currently Vriska’s also being shown as an unlikeable character. We’ll see how that develops.

CHEL: Still, a lot of people really don’t like those words being used casually, and the fact that we need to show you how things develop should imply that they won’t develop in a way you’ll like. So…

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 39

White Text Guy, as the characters refer to him for a while to come yet, continues gloating about how successfully he’s exploited Vriska, who tells him she’ll log off and orders him not to use that nasty trick where you log me 8ack on out of petty douchey spite! WTG says he’ll be brief, though he’s not particularly brief in fact, tells her he no longer hold[s] her accountable for any wrongdoing, and says that if she accepts this, she may get her luck back. Vriska doesn’t believe him and continues to rant, and he points out that her unpleasant, simplistic temperament is what made her so easy to mess with.

If you turn a swarm of wasps on a crowd, the outcome is certain.

He leaves with these even more ominous words:

Though the magnitude of the ensuing destruction resulting directly from your actions will be neither possible or necessary for you to fathom, there nevertheless ought to be a silver lining.

The only question is whether you will live long enough to see it.

Vriska, enraged, lifts a Magic 8 Ball with the intention to smash it, but decides she can’t be bothered, and answers GA, hoping some camaraderie will cheer her up, even if it’s from a meddler. However, GA’s first question is “Is Your Lusus Dead Yet”. Not particularly cheering, is it?

Vriska, for the first time, expresses concern and sympathy for another person when GA says her own lusus is dead, though it may be undermined slightly by her own personal disappointment in never having got to meet said lusus. GA doesn’t seem very concerned, and says “Maybe You Still Can”. According to her, though, all their lusii are dying, as a “Preemptive Consequence” (if that’s a meaningful concept) of the upcoming Game. Karkat blames himself for activating the cursed code, but GA thinks it was inevitable. However, Karkat’s idea of a curse Is Inseparable From His Perception Of Events As Intrinsically Negative And As Tailored To His Personal Dissatisfaction, and so is Vriska’s poor luck. GA points out that if Vriska cleaned her floor she wouldn’t step on so many things. THANK YOU, GA, you made my point for me! Vriska is angry at GA “meddling” so, and demands to know why she does.

GA: Because Youre Dangerous

[...]

GA: Its Ok To Be Dangerous

GA: Lots Of People Are

GA: And Dangerous People Can Be Really Important

GA: Maybe Even The Most Important Sometimes

GA: But It Just Means Theres Got To Be Someone Around To Keep An Eye On Them

As Vriska gets angrier, it’s noted that she puts 8s in her typing in places where they don’t work as Bs or as “eight” sounds, and they become more numerous.

AG: Or you know, if you're so h8gh 8nd might8 an8 th8nk you're so gr8at, m8y88 you c8uld oh I d8n't kn8w........

AG: TRY AND ST8P ME FROM DO8NG B8D THINGS????????

GA: That Wouldnt Work

GA: If I Tried To Stop You You Would Regard Me As An Enemy

GA: Instead Of Merely As A Nuisance

BRIGHT: GA’s strategy appears to be trying to talk Vriska into being a better person, either by persuading her that it’s the right thing to do or by being so annoying that Vriska does the right thing to avoid being meddled with. She’s making an effort, I’ll give her that. And given that she doesn’t live anywhere near Vriska, there isn’t all that much she can do to rein her in.

CHEL: Vriska signs off, ranting about her “Lousy st8pid godd8mn supportive friend!” and heads down the enormous staircase to check on her lusus.

You wonder if any other kid on the planet has such a high maintenance lusus? You DOUBT it.

As a matter of fact, one does and Vriska knows that, but we’ll see them later. Not a continuity error, it’s just Vriska self-pitying.

From a window, we see a doomsday device hanging over a chasm by chains attached to the surrounding cliffs. Vriska built it for an especially powerful and influential member of the nautical aristocracy, with help from an as-yet-unnamed nearby friend. Vriska reaches the bottom of the stairwell, and we meet her lusus, which is…

… a spider about the size of a cathedral. For the sake of our arachnophobic readers, we’ll refrain from posting a picture. Suffice it to say she’s as terrifying as she sounds. Pan out to show the entire valley is filled with cobwebs, and Vriska’s hive is matched by a similar one on the other side of the valley.

Before we move on, I’d just like to chat a little about the astrological symbolisms used here. Vriska’s the Scorpio troll, and it puzzles a lot of people that she’s spider-themed instead of scorpion-themed. Both arachnids, but not the same thing. However, Scorpio does have multiple symbols, depending on the source of the interpretation of the constellation, including the spider and the phoenix. Observe! (I enjoy astrology. Sue me.) Also, a scorpion would be a lot harder to get the story symbolism out of; Vriska is at least attempting to be a master manipulator pulling on strings, i.e. webs. The astrological symbolism and alleged personality traits aren’t used for all of the trolls in general, either. The troll with the sign of Aquarius the Water-Bearer is seadwelling nobility and probably wouldn’t be happy to be represented astrologically by a servant, and Gamzee is basically the opposite of the ambitious and hardworking traits of the allegedly typical Capricorn. Basically the signs are mostly aesthetic and if Huss can work in some connected symbolism that’s a bonus. I don’t consider this a negative thing in particular, though it might annoy some astrology buffs.

Actually, I don’t know how intentional this was, but one fan actually analysed how the social expectations on Alternia are in fact the exact opposite of what would actually suit their astrological sign. It didn’t get finished but there’s some interesting information - read the posts in question here, beware spoilers!

BRIGHT: One amusing consequence of this can be turned into a game: Go to Tumblr, find an astrology post, and see how long it takes to figure out if it’s a Homestuck riff. Some of them even just say ‘Vriska’ for Scorpio.

It’s probably just because I mostly follow fandom-related blogs, but I’ve yet to see a Tumblr astrology post that wasn’t a more-or-less-subtle Homestuck joke.

CHEL: And the ones which aren’t make for great fanfic prompts!

BRIGHT: Vriska’s lusus is fine, as it happens. Vriska pretends to be happy about this, but she’s rather less convincing than Dave is about his own guardianship issues.

FAILURE ARTIST: And we turn from Vriska to look in her neighbor and it’s….that creepy guy! Hurray!

Your name is EQUIUS ZAHHAK.

You love being STRONG.

You are so strong, you would surely be the class of the elite legion of RUFFIANNIHILATORS. And while such a calling would be quite honorable, you would prefer to join the ranks of the ARCHERADICATORS, perhaps the most noble echelon the imperial forces have to offer. Unfortunately, you SUCK AT ARCHERY. You have not successfully fired a SINGLE ARROW. Every time you try, you BREAK THE BOW. You are simply too strong. You have broken so many bows, it has developed into a habit BORDERING ON FETISHISTIC. You have to stop. But addiction is a powerful thing.

You have a great appreciation for THE FINE ARTS. You use your aristocratic connections to acquire PRICELESS MASTERPIECES, painted in the oldest and most respected Alternian tradition of NUDE MUSCLEBEAST PORTRAITS. These striking depictions of the EXQUISITE FAUNA native to Alternia remind you of the PUREST PHYSICAL IDEAL that must be sought by anyone who professes a LOVE OF STRENGTH. When those of lesser bloodlines turn up their uncultured noses at such stunning material, it MAKES YOU FURIOUS.

Practically everything MAKES YOU FURIOUS. You have so much rage, it can only be expressed through STAGGERING QUANTITIES OF PHYSICAL VIOLENCE. You build strong and sturdy robots, set them to kill mode, and BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF THEM in caged brawls. Sometimes you LOSE TEETH. But they usually grow back.

FAILURE ARTIST: Equius Zahhak’s first name is obviously a take on the Latin word for horses, but his last name is from a Persian demon who is also known as “he who has 10,000 horses”.

So yes, that furry porn on his walls is high art to trolls. Though the prequel Hiveswap Friendsim, which has artist characters, doesn’t have MUSCLEBEAST PORTRAITS. Maybe Equius is actually weird.

CHEL: Actually, the Friendsim does have musclebeast art; if you squint at the beginning of Nikhee’s route, you can see depictions of white muscular chests flanking the arena, which don’t look like troll chests. Hiveswap proper is rated PG, so we’ll be spared it there, too.

FAILURE ARTIST: Equius is more even-tempered than his introduction suggests. He’s not completely violence-free (as we will see) but he’s not in a constant ‘roid-rage. Heck, from what we’ve seen before of him he just gets peeved and snotty.

Equius calls for his lusus Aurthour, who I guess could be called another self-insert. Aurthour is a centaur-type creature with cow udders and a mustache and looks like something out of Hussie’s early comics. Aurthour carries a glass of lusus milk on a platter, presumably from its own udders. Ummm.

You cannot hope to beat Aurthour in a butler-off. He is simply the best there is.

Sweet, I guess.

CHEL: I wonder how Aurthour contorts around to reach his udder. Centaurs aren’t really known for flexibility.

FAILURE ARTIST: We find out why Aurthour has a shiner. It’s not because of domestic abuse but because when Equius “gently” pats Aurthour, Aurthour bruises. Yet this creature is the only lusus STRONG enough to raise Equius.

Equius tries to drink the glass, but it shatters in his hand. Which begs the question of why Aurthour doesn’t use an alternative to glass. Well, I guess Equius going straight to the source would be too disturbing even for Hussie. A bigger problem is how Equius can do the fine detail work of building robots when he can’t hold a glass.

Equius goes into a rage, which just means he stands around in Hero Mode while the lusus milk quickly evaporates. Wait, quickly evaporates? What is it made of?

CHEL: I assumed the heat of his rage boiled it.

FAILURE ARTIST: Equius tries to equiup equip a bow but fails due to his strength. Like the glass smashing, this is a normal occurrence. You’d think he’d give up but apparently breaking bows is like popping bubble wrap to him. Expensive bubble wrap. So he has the useless 1/2bowkind, a bowkind for when he’s ever that lucky, and the fistkind which he actually utilizes. Yes, in Homestuck, you can register your fists as lethal weapons.

Equius talks with Nepeta and the narration summarizes like thus:

CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no CT: D --> Yes AC: :33 < no

Equius is still worried about his good friend Nepeta, so he decides to relieve his stress by talking with another friend. And here comes a line fans take as meaning trolls don’t have friendship.

It should be noted that in troll language, the word for friend is exactly the same as the word for enemy.

Though that line contradicts Equius considering Nepeta his friend only a few lines back. This worldbuilding sucks.

CHEL: Well, he doesn’t treat her the way a human should treat a friend at this point.

FAILURE ARTIST: So Equius trolls this frienemy who turns out to be Gamzee.

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

CT: D --> Have I ever told you what a reprehensible disgrace you are

TC: hAhA, fUcK yEaH, oNlY eVeRy MoThErFuCkIn DaY bRo!

Yeah, Equius, pretty much everyone tells Gamzee that every day.

Equius says he wants get some things off his chest, which giving what we later learn about troll relationships might be adulterous. Gamzee tells him not to let his feelings be bottled up lIkE a FuCkIn AlL sHaKeD uP bOtTlE oF fAyGo and this metaphor makes Gamzee thristy. Equius berates Gamzee for drinking soda, which seems harsh but we later find out soda is booze for trolls. He’s also angry at Gamzee for doing sopor slime. Now, fans think Karkat didn’t like Gamzee doing sopor slime but we never actually see it. It’s just Equius who cares. This leads to an exchange I find interesting.

CT: D --> You will stop

TC: WhOaAaA, i WiLl?

TC: hOw Do YoU kNoW tHaT?

CT: D --> No, you don't understand

CT: D --> It's not a predi%ion, it's an order

CT: D --> I command you to stop

Gamzee is so passive he finds it hard to imagine making decisions that will change his future. Sad. And when Gamzee does get what Equius means:

TC: Oh, AlRiGhT bRoThEr.

TC: yOu MoThErFuCkIn GoT iT.

CT: D --> What

CT: D --> Are you serious

TC: yEaH.

TC: I mEaN, yOu GoT tO sHoW sOmE fAiTh In YoUr FrIeNdS, cAuSe ThEy'Re AlL tHe OnEs WhO'rE bEiNg To LoOk OuT fOr YoU.

TC: sO fUcK iF yOu SaY i'M nOt DoInG tHe ShIt RiGhT, tHeN wHaT tHe MoThErFuCk Do I kNoW!

CT: D --> No

CT: D --> This is una%eptable

CT: D --> Ok, let's start over

CT: D --> I apologize

CT: D --> I was completely out of of line, and I'm sorry

CT: D --> I have no right to talk to you like that, or tell you what you can't do

TC: aWw, No WoRrIeS!

Gamzee was ready to kick sopor slime except Equius backed down. Wondering about the timeline where Equius didn’t back down.

Still, Equius begs Gamzee to behave like a superior. Gamzee asks what that means and Equius gives a very creepy answer.

CT: D --> 100k, it isn't that difficult

CT: D --> Try to be cognizant of your desires and needs

CT: D --> And attempt to regard those around you as simple vehicles meant to bring about your gratification

At least Equius is a hypocrite...most of the time.

Equius asks what Gamzee is doing and Gamzee relates his adventures in Sgrub. He bonked an imp on the head and scared another with a horn and eventually ended up sharing pie with them. Equius likes the tales of valor but is disappointed with the peaceful end.

Equius asks Gamzee to roleplay and Gamzee says yes; there’s an uncomfortable sequence where Equius tries to get Gamzee to virtually dom him. Gamzee is terrible at being assertive, but Equius is still whipped into a state of contrition. Basically, Equius is getting off on this.

CHEL: It should be noted that tricking a child into sexual behaviour is a form of abuse even when it’s done by a child of the same age. Not cool, Eq, and not funny, Hussie.

CALL CPA PLEASE: 11

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 40

SEND THEM TO THE SLAMMER: 4

Though, while that is clearly the reading we’re meant to get from that, I have to say Equius never reads to me like he’s actually enjoying being ordered around. With Gamzee he’s just frustrated that he’s not behaving in a correct manner, and in later exchanges he seems knocked off-balance by the normal social order being upended. I know I’m just projecting, but it reads more like he has some issues with anxiety or OCD and is desperate for someone else to take control and tell him what they want him to do so he doesn’t have to worry. He sweats constantly during these exchanges, which is supposed to imply he’s aroused, but people sweat when they’re worried or afraid too.

FAILURE ARTIST: On a lighter front, Equius says he doesn’t live near the ocean, which considering his neighbor regularly goes on a pirate ship is an odd thing to say.

CHEL: How near is “near”? He might just mean not within walking distance so he can’t casually wander out to the sea like Gamzee does.

FAILURE ARTIST: Equius ends by wondering about the social order that puts someone like Gamzee above him but someone as graceful and poised as a certain mysterious she is of the lowest caste. Gamzee (and the readers) ask who she is and Equius brusquely says D -->I shouldn’t be talking about this D → You’re the enemy before signing off.

CHEL: If one’s been paying attention, one can guess.

Next, Equius and Vriska are in cahoots. Cahoooooooots. Vriska declares her intention to meddle, and they have a brief exchange about sarcasm. It’s horribly inconsistent whether trolls have sarcasm or not, as I’ve pointed out before. Already gave a point for it, though.

Anyway, Vriska asks if Aradia’s present is finished. It is.

CT: D --> But I don't understand why you're intent on gratifying that worthless peasant

AG: 8ecause I promised I would and it's none of your damn 8usiness! Man.

Their plan is to let Aradia usurp Sollux as leader with her cute little ploy (recall her sending him to sleep and letting him swallow mind honey earlier), then both snatch power from her and become joint leaders. Each asks the other if they’re planning something sneaky and each insists they’re not. Equius can sense that Vriska is trying to read his mind, and when she won’t stop, he takes control of her cybernetic arm, which he built, and makes her slap herself in the face.

FAILURE ARTIST: So given that Vriska tried to read Equius’ mind, despite the dangers (both physically and mentally), it is unbelievable she refrained from reading Karkat’s due to delicacy.

I think Hussie has said in his commentary that Vriska had a crush on Equius. The fandom prefers lesbian Vriska at this point and so has ignored that. YMMV on if there is evidence of a crush in the text but I find the idea amusing.

CHEL: Equius goes to fetch the present for Aradia which he was supposed to give to Vriska.

You naturally will doublecross your accomplice, just as you assume she has plans to doublecross you. You assume she is assuming the same of you. Business as usual for blue bloods.

How the hell does this society get anything done?

You will deliver it to Aradia yourself to gain her favor, and then doublecross her and take your rightful position as team leader. How ironic that someone of your blood purity must work to win the favor of the lowest sort of peasant. Humiliating. Strangely titillating, even. But in the end, class order will be restored.

He takes the tarp off the present, and it is…

Why, Aradia. It appears the red glass of your eye has caught the pink and green glint of the moons in their perigees. The sweet poetry almost makes a man forget how the grime that once filled your veins made his stomach turn. It is a good omen for illicit lovers. Could you imagine the scandal if anyone found out?? No one must ever know.

But worry not. Your heart will pump no more of that despicable red sludge. You have been given a new heart. You can be taught the ways of the class you were always meant for. No one is beyond redemption.

Be grateful, dear Aradia. For the first time in your meaningless life you have met a man with true compassion.

Jesus fucking Christ. See what I meant when I said his interactions with girls were worse than his posters? No points because it’s supposed to be creepy, and with the teachings of his society it’s not entirely his fault, but wow.

FAILURE ARTIST: Well, his interaction with a girl is creepy. His relationship with Nepeta is more problematic than fans remember but that’s two-sided and not infatuation. As for Vriska, he’s cold and business-like with her. He collaborates with GA but that’s off-screen and was probably also business-like. Meanwhile, he has lustful interactions with most every male character. We’ve seen how he acts with Gamzee and we’ll see more later. Equius’ interactions with guys are another example of Hussie using male attraction to other males as a punchline.

CHEL: But yes, he’s built her a robot body. Unfortunately for everyone involved, while making out with it, he feels judged by one of his battlebots, gets angry, and punches it. It goes flying out the window and robosplodes above the valley, and its remains hit Vriska’s doomsday device, setting it off. It breaks before it can actually destroy the planet, but the chains holding it up snap, sending it swinging into the cliffside, causing another explosion. The cliff collapses, taking part of Equius’ hive with it, sending Aurthour plummeting into the chasm and crushing Vriska’s spider lusus under tons of rubble.

Cutting back to before that, we see Terezi battling imps on her treehouse’s rooftop, when Vriska messages her, declaring that playing the game together means breaking their truce. Terezi says that’s not what the truce was about; it was about STOPP1NG TH3 3NDL3SS CYCL3 OF R3V3NG3 and Vriska not using her powers maliciously anymore. Terezi’s next couple of comments are just calling Vriska a liar so I’ll just take Vriska’s, to further illustrate her behaviour.

AG: Man, you like to give me such a hard time a8out all that. I can't catch a 8reak! AG: Can't you see I'm trying to put all that 8ehind me and make amends with every8ody? AG: No, of course you can't see that. What am I saying! [...] AG: I'll prove it to you. I'm giving Aradia a present that will make her feel all 8etter finally. AG: Then I'll 8e in the clear. Phew! Totally redeemed. You'll see. I mean smell.

Vriska appears under the impression that large flashy gestures are the important part of an apology, not actual sincerity. Terezi points out Aradia doesn’t care about anything anymore and probably won’t care about this.

AG: Man, why can't you cut me some slack for once???????? AG: It's not like I even did anything that 8ad to you. AG: I lost seven eyes 8ut you only lost two! I would say you came out ahead in the 8argain. GC: 1 KNOW GC: 4ND 4CTU4LLY GC: 1 N3V3R R34LLY GOT TH3 CH4NC3 TO TH4NK YOU >:D

Vriska’s disbelief aside, Terezi really is serious here. Not surprising to the reader, her blindness is basically a superpower.

AG: Remem8er Team Scourge? How convenient all that must 8e to have forgotten! You were so nasty. AG: Oh man, if you crossed Terezi Pyrope you were fucked!!!!!!!! GC: Y34H 1F YOU W3R3 4 B4D GUY GC: W3 W3R3 SUPPOS3D TO B3 L1K3 4 V1G1L4NT3 DUO D1SP3NS1NG JUST1C3 GC: 4ND YOU COULD T4K3 TH3 B4D GUYS HOM3 4ND F33D TH3M TO YOUR STUP1D SP1D3R GC: BUT 1NST34D YOU JUST F3D H3R 3V3RYBODY! GC: 4ND L13D 4ND L13D 4ND L13D

Okay, this little exchange needs some more dissection. Terezi is supposed to be the “good cop” of Team Scourge, the by-the-book one on the side of the law. But we saw what Alternian law is like, and later on we’ll see demonstrations that things such as having a birth defect or, according to Hiveswap, owning fiction which so much as mentions the possibility of rebellion, are punishable by death. Not only is this not making Terezi look any better, if she’s as obsessed with the law as we saw, who would she deem not a “bad guy”, and why would Vriska have such a shortage of “bad guys” that she’d need to take anyone else? Hussie appears to have forgotten that the Alternian concept of justice is different from the Earth one.

FAILURE ARTIST: And what we would consider a “bad guy” wouldn’t be the same on Alternia. There’s tons of trolls murdering other trolls on Hiveswap Friendsim without any hint that’s illegal. It’s probably completely lawful for a highblood to kill a lowblood just because the lowblood annoyed them.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 29

BRIGHT: Maybe. I’d say what this shows us, and is intended to show us, is that Terezi’s sense of justice isn’t just based on Alternian law, but on her own moral code. The law made it perfectly acceptable for Vriska to feed lowbloods to her lusus regardless of whether they’d done anything, but Terezi didn’t think it was right, and for her that superseded the law. She’s the ‘good cop’ not because she always follows the book, but because she’s willing to ignore it.

We also know she thought Vriska was on the same page as her. Note that Terezi makes two accusations here — the first is that Vriska killed people who don’t deserve it, and the second is that Vriska lied to Terezi about doing so.

CHEL: That may be what it’s intended to show us, but what we’ve already seen is that she worships the law; she draws and gleefully licks pictures of the head of the troll court, His Honorable Tyranny, and she shows no concern in her roleplay with hypothetically executing people for relatively trivial crimes. That makes this a bit… shaky, IMO.

BRIGHT: True. Terezi may have stopped killing since her FLARP days (or, at least, we get no indication that she’s still doing so), but it doesn’t seem to have shaken her belief in the Alternian legal system. Just her belief in Vriska, who even brings up a similar point.

AG: Well if you want to know what I think, you should start changing your tune. AG: Cause even though you got all these highfalutin morals and fancy reserv8tions, you know as well as me that a killer is a killer is a killer! AG: There 8n't no ch8nging your ways for good, and one d8y you're going to flail that silly l8ttle cane of yours and not find n8thin to 8ump into, and fall f8ce first into the shit ag8in. AG: And you're going to do something t8rri8le to some8ody and wish you could t8ke it 8ack 8ut you c8n't!!!!!!!! AG: And then you'll work hard to win 8ack their trust, and you'll try and try and tr8, and you'll see how hard it is! AG: You'll seeeeeeee!

Vriska’s making this all about her own feelings about Terezi abandoning her, but she’s not wrong.

Vriska hears the doomsday device exploding and the subsequent rockslide, and goes to find out what it is. Terezi tells her not to get crushed.

The next page jumps back in time again -- this time, quite far back. Terezi’s eyes are normal, and she’s talking to Aradia about Tavros’s recovery. Aradia says he’s probably paralysed for life. Terezi brings up the possibility of getting him robo-prosthetics, but after the Vriska debacle Aradia is firmly against having anything to do with bluebloods.

CHEL: Terezi warns Aradia that revenge attempts will end badly and she wants to handle it. Aradia says Vriska isn’t able to control her, but Terezi says Vriska will find a way to harm her anyway. They lament how they were both distracted by the same person.

AA: wh0 was he anyway GC: PR3TTY SUR3 1T WAS VR1SKAS FR13ND AA: what was he d0ing there AA: watching us GC: WHO KNOWS GC: H3S NOT R34LLY H3R FR13ND THOUGH GC: YOU SHOULD S33 HOW H3 T4LKS 4BOUT H3R B3H1ND H3R B4CK GC: SH3 H4S NO 1D34 HOW B4D H3S PL4Y1NG H3R GC: BUT TH3N 1 DONT TH1NK H3 KNOWS HOW B4D SH3S PL4Y1NG H1M 31TH3R

This sounds like they mean Equius, but we’ll see. Aradia feels she’s letting Vriska win by doing nothing, but Terezi has a plan. She confirms that her friendship with Vriska is over.

Cut to Aradia’s house, and here I need to go into a bit more detail. This is her house:

Aradia’s a maroonblood, the lowest of the low on the hemospectrum, peasantry and cannon fodder and supposedly extremely numerous. Yet her house looks to be about the size of the entire block of flats I live in, and she lives in it alone, with no other buildings at all in sight. In the next page, we see inside her house, which looks exactly the same as all the others; she has piles of roleplaying books and posters and a computer, and nothing looks to be in disrepair.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 30

BRIGHT: Her house also looks a lot like Tavros’s, what with the windmill feature on top and the brown hangings rather than maroon, which threw me off at first.

CHEL: We’ll talk about this more later. For now, let’s stick with the most noticeable thing; Aradia is alive! Her skirt is untattered and her eyes have colour and pupils. Her lusus is alive too, napping beside her. It’s not quite clear what it is exactly; it has a sheep-like head, but its body is long and slim with much bigger hind legs than forelegs. Could be supposed to be dragon-like? I’ve also seen it interpreted as kangaroo-like. I don’t think we ever get a better view of it.

Anyway, Aradia knows Terezi’s advice is sound, but she can’t bear not to do something to Make her pay. She puts her hands up to her temples, and the image fades back and forth with one of wrapped troll corpses in Spidermom’s web…

It's a shame it had to come to this. You don't like summoning the spirits of the dead to settle scores.

But if she had to face her victims again, maybe she'd finally learn to feel remorse.

OOOOOOOOOO

This begs the question, how the fuck can the highbloods oppress people who not only hugely outnumber them but can shoot lasers from their eyes, control animals, and summon the dead at will? Well, there’s actually some explanation for that. The player trolls all appear to have unusual levels of power, for whatever their given powers are; most maroonbloods can’t do this. In Hiveswap a main character is a more typical maroonblood, who can just about bend spoons with his telekinesis and not much else (though we haven’t seen him speak with dead yet, and it’s possible he’s better at that). Not all trolls even have their caste’s powers, as far as I can tell, as we do see a yellow in Hiveswap Friendsim who’s not a psionic and some ceruleans who don’t seem to have mind-control powers as well. Head or eye injuries, which aren’t exactly rare in Alternia, can cause the loss of said powers. Also, the highest blood castes have powers of their own and other things to hold over the lowbloods’ heads. It’ll be a while till we get to that, but I’ll say now it is convincing, we do not have an Oppressed Mages scenario.

Anyway, Aradia does her thing…

As Vriska cowers on her floor, White Text Guy messages her again. Vriska replies angrily, ghosts looming over her shoulders.

Aren't you going to kill her?

AG: Who????????

Your friend.

The one who summoned the spirits.

AG: Will that make them go away?

Does it matter?

She brought them here to torment you. This obviously warrants revenge.

Vriska asks why WTG doesn’t kill Aradia instead, since he helped kill Tavros; he replies “All I did was stand somewhere for a few minutes. I just gave you an opportunity to do something you wanted to do anyway.” So, seems it wasn’t Equius they meant earlier. Vriska protests she never intended to kill her gaming companions, and blames him.

Again, I didn't talk you into anything, nor am I doing so now.

You were, and are, going to do this regardless.

I only ever place myself into positions of tangential involvement with events that will bring about my employer's entry into this universe.

I oversee the events as they take place, and ever so slightly nudge them into motion when necessary.

BRIGHT: Looks like Aradia and Terezi haven’t told her Tavros survived, which is eminently sensible. This conversation also highlights another Vriska trait: That she’s a very active person, but will try to shift responsibility as soon as she doesn’t like the consequences. That could be a result of her upbringing -- Vriska had to actively go and kill people for Spidermom, but she wasn’t responsible for the overall situation. (Although -- how much did she do to ameliorate it? By the time SGRUB starts, Spidermom’s far too big to fit into Vriska’s home. Vriska might have been able to get away with not feeding her at that point; there’s not much Spidermom can do if she can’t get to her.)

CHEL: The later addition to the canon, Pesterquest, claims that the lusii can psychically nag their charges and she could bother Vriska that way, but that directly contradicts Act 5, in which the trolls want to prototype their lusii so that they’ll be able to communicate properly with them for the first time, and also couldn’t Vriska just move further away?

BRIGHT: Inertia is very much a thing, and people do often just settle into a rut of ‘this is the way things are’ even when something could be changed, so it’s not improbable that it wouldn’t occur to Vriska to move — come to that, I don’t believe it occurs to anyone else either — but the fact that it doesn’t occur to her does say something about her character.

CHEL: Also, why didn’t Vriska feed the spider on animals? The possibility is never so much as considered by her or anyone else, though it seems the most obvious thing to do. Sure, the spider might be picky, but as we said, it can’t leave the valley due to its size, or it’d be hunting for itself. If it’s left with the choice to eat cows or die, it’d presumably pick the former, especially since the lusii aren’t supposed to be sapient and thus wouldn’t have the capacity for spite. For assuming that Vriska did what she had to when such a screamingly obvious better option is never addressed, here we go with a new count, which will rise whenever Vriska’s horrible actions are excused.

ALL THE LUCK: 1

Back to the scene, Scratch claims omniscience, which Vriska mocks.

AG: Sure you know a lot, 8ut I know for a FACT there's stuff you don't know.

That's true.

But the gaps in my knowledge exist by design.

They are the pillars of shadow on which my comprehensive vision is built.

Necessary pockets of void meant to effectuate outcomes I've foreseen and which will require my influence.

Each dark pocket, in time, will be filled.

[...]

I don't lie.

Deception is only necessary for those like you to achieve their objectives.

I play with my cards face up.

Isn't it funny how during our various matches, I can tell you what my moves will be in advance, and still win?

Vriska, angered by this, does in fact plan to kill Aradia; Not much point in living with all these moaning spooks just to spite some guy you don't give a shit about. She can’t control Aradia because Aradia’s own powers get in the way, but there are other people she can use.

How about this guy? Unfortunately, you can only control him about half the time.

Then again, that should be all the time you need.

Cut back to Aradia’s place, and she receives a message from Vriska, telling her her boyfriend is outside.

BRIGHT: Vriska also lightheartedly tells Aradia she’s sorry, and that she’ll make it up to ‘him’ someday. Presumably ‘he’ is meant to be Tavros, except that Vriska seemed to think Tavros was dead in literally the last conversation she had. This is probably just a slip-up on Hussie’s part, but it’s possible to read this as Vriska referring to a different ‘he’ entirely, considering what’s about to happen.

CHEL: Aradia looks, and sees a figure hovering telekinetically over the fields....

Note what’s in his hand. You do not under any circumstances eat the mind honey… His eyes start flashing and Aradia looks afraid, but we suddenly cut to a view of Alternia, and then to a closeup of its green moon. The prompt instructs us to Be the white text guy, and we meet him in a very familiar-looking green mansion.

You try to be the white text guy, but fail to be the white text guy. No one can be the white text guy except for the white text guy.

The white text guy is known as Doc Scratch.

He is an officer of an indestructible demon known as Lord English. His job is to pave the way for the arrival of his master, who will be summoned upon the termination of the universe. He has worked at this task for many centuries, and will continue to do so until THE GREAT UNDOING.

Scratch is Alternia's FIRST GUARDIAN. Every planet destined for intelligent life has such an entity meant to protect it, and facilitate the planet's ultimate purpose. A first guardian is typically almost as old as the planet itself, and each has a unique, circuitous origin through the knots of paradox space. They can be born into a great diversity of forms, though they all share a common, especially potent genetic sequence.

Remember Rose’s MEOW book, and how DD used it to create Becquerel? Yep.

The code grants them near omnipotence, and when merged with a host of great intelligence, near omniscience as well.

BRIGHT: Only near-omniscence, however. Scratch is surprised to find Terezi contacting him, but he’s able to work out that she got Sollux to help pretty fast:

Occasionally I discover there are things I have not always known.

It gives me the opportunity to make deductions, which are practically always flawless.

It's gratifying.

He also suggests she call him ‘Mr. Vanilla Milkshake’, and then hints that Aradia might not be straightforwardly dead by stating that Sollux and Terezi believe she is dead, and will soon believe she is not, both of which are true statements about their beliefs rather than reality.

Props to Hussie on this: I’m pretty sure every Homestuck fan wants to punch Scratch in the face. He’s just so obnoxious.

Terezi, however, refuses to let Scratch keep derailing her for long. She wants Scratch to get involved in their feud again, and she has a good reason for him: She knows how Vriska’s been able to come so close to beating Scratch in their games lately. Before she can tell him, though, she needs to talk to Vriska again.

She starts by asking how Vriska feels about killing Aradia, after she promised not to. Vriska responds with dramatic insincerity about how she feels awful, and then says Terezi should be happy that Team Charge is out of the picture.

AG: Uuuuuuuugh, what do you want from me????????

GC: 1M NOT SUR3

GC: 1 GU3SS 1M LOOK1NG FOR SOM3 R34SON TO CH4NG3 MY M1ND

GC: 1 DONT KNOW WH4T YOU C4N S4Y TH4TLL DO 1T

GC: 1 SORT4 HOP3 TH3R3S SOM3TH1NG THOUGH

In the end, there isn’t. Terezi tells Vriska she’ll be dead in a couple of minutes, and to ‘CONSULT W1TH YOUR L1TTL3 4DV4NT4G3’ if she doesn’t believe it, then leaves the conversation.

Vriska’s little advantage turns out to be a MAGIC CUE BALL, which is similar to a magic 8 ball except that it’s predictions are specific and accurate, and it lacks a portal through which the user can read said predictions. Fortunately that’s not an obstacle for Vriska: Her VISION EIGHTFOLD allows her to see through the opaque casing.

CHEL: Vision Eightfold is the vision from the one of Vriska’s eyes which has seven pupils, which she covered with an eyepatch with seven rubies on it when she was FLARPing. Also remember that Jade had a Magic Cue Ball but couldn’t read it? Yeah, it’s another one.

BRIGHT: One other thing: According to rumour, it used to belong to the man on the moon.

As Vriska asks the cueball whether she should be worried about Terezi’s threat (answer: YES), Terezi lets Scratch know where his missing property has gone. Vriska asks the cueball how it’s going to happen…

I WILL EXPLODE IN YOUR FACE.

Boom.

This section is one of my favourite Terezi moments. It really shows off Terezi’s ability to outthink and manoeuvre people. She’s never spoken to Scratch before, but she still plays him against Vriska easily.

CHEL: This is why Vriska has a plain eyepatch and a robot arm in her future appearances, but she’s otherwise fine. Bluebloods are tough, apparently.

BRIGHT: Back in the future, Spidermom has survived the rubble falling on her, but just barely. Vriska puts her out of her misery with her magic dice, which summon up a massive guillotine and decapitate the lusus, drenching Vriska in spider blood.

GORE GALORE: 11

The decapitation sets off another landslide, sending Equius’s house straight down on Vriska’s head, but before it can land, a portal opens underneath it and transports it into the Medium.

Vriska promptly jumps on Trollian to freak out about this, because her plan depended on her getting Aradia’s surprise present from Equius to pass along and then Aradia and Vriska entering the Medium together, and never mind that a house was about to fall on her -- in fact, when Aradia points out that Vriska was about to die, Vriska accuses her of planning this. Aradia placidly agrees.

CHEL: This is part of my evidence for thinking Vriska might not be neurotypical. Not the priorities most people would have. Also, meanwhile, note that the lusii have the same blood colour as their charges, while the non-lusus animals Nepeta killed were black and had red blood. I’m not sure whether that’s a species trait, or a side effect of the weird bond between them (doesn’t make a lot of biological sense, but then this is basically fantasy with a sci-fi coat of paint).

Vriska is enraged by things not going the way she planned; her grand gesture of apology, the robot body, will now be handed over by Equius and not her, ruining her chance to be friends again with Aradia. Again, she doesn’t seem to understand how apologies work.

AA: were we ever really friends

AG: Yeah!!!!!!!!

AG: I don't know. I felt like we were even if you didn't think so.

AG: I guess I'm not very good at acting like a friend. Or saying stuff like, hey friend! You're my friend! It doesn't really occur to me.

For some strange reason related to her prototyping with the frog statue, Aradia types out “ribbit” into the chatbox, and informs Vriska she’s not on the Blue team as she expected, enraging Vriska further. Vriska accuses her of taking revenge, which Aradia denies, saying Vriska was always going to be on the Red team, and that she doesn’t care about her death.

AG: You're so infuri8ing! Why c8n't you just h8 me? It would 8e a lot easier th8t way.

AG: Or at least feel 8othered or annoyed or S8METHING! God!!!!!!!!

AG: May8e I sh8uld just rip my he8rt out of my chest and pound it to a 8loody pulp here on my desk with my sup8r strong ro8ot arm.

AG: Pound pound pound pound pound pound pound pound!

AG: Look at that, more nasty 8lue 8lood all over me. Why not! Might as well op8n the floodg8s and p8nt my whole hive with this oh so envia8le cerulean SWILL.

AG: 8ecause clearly it's up to me to feel em8tions for the 8oth of us, you misera8le soulless witch!

AA: 0_0

AG: I h88888888 you!

AG: H8 h8 h8 h8 h8 h8 h8 haaaaaaaate!

AG: I only regret killing you cause it m8de you so 8ORING!!!!!!!!

AA: s0rry

Aradia assures her that the teams are meaningless, but being on the Red team will put Vriska in the position they need her in. Vriska’s confused and angry, and leaves the chat.

In Equius’ LAND OF CAVES AND SILENCE, he trolls Aradia again, telling her he will be the sole leader, which she doesn’t care about. He’s surprised she isn’t objecting, and says he needs a towel.

CT: D --> Never mind

CT: D --> I'm trying to stay professional about this

AA: ab0ut what

AA: what are y0u talking ab0ut

CT: D --> Forget it

CT: D --> It's just pleasant to consort with one of lesser breeding who clearly understands her place

He’s been established to suffer from hyperhydrosis, but he’s clearly also supposed to be getting off on this, which, since he’s thirteen, is icky to read.

CALL CPA PLEASE: 12

It only gets worse.

CT: D --> I 100k forward to seeing how well you serve me, server player

AA: uh

AA: thats n0t quite the meaning 0f the w0rd server

CT: D --> What do you mean

AA: as y0ur server i manipulate y0ur envir0nment t0 help y0u advance

CT: D --> I don't understand

CT: D --> Are you

CT: D --> Are you saying

CT: D --> That

CT: D --> You are in a position of control over me

AA: i supp0se s0

CT: D --> Oh

AA: what

CT: D --> Oh my God

He babbles about how he needs fresh air or another towel, getting so agitated he actually drops an F-bomb, which he immediately covers up with “Fiddlesticks”. He says he wants to break something, and Aradia offers to break something for him, as she’s developed an interest in breaking things recently. Next page, she flings an “abluti0n trap” through his wall.

FAILURE ARTIST: The running gag of girls fucking up boy’s homes with bathroom appliances continues!

CHEL: He’s very happy, except about her commoner slang.

CT: D --> In fact, this is an order from your leader

CT: D --> Call things by their proper names

AA: what

AA: y0u want me t0 call it a bath tub

AA: that s0unds ridicul0us

As FA noted, this bit of worldbuilding ends up retconned out with all trolls calling things by strange rewordings later on.

Whatever it’s called, Equius asks her to throw it through the wall again. She asks if that’s an order, and he can’t decide.

CT: D --> You could cause quite a bother for me, with the power you wield

CT: D --> I can do nothing to stop you, peasant girl

CT: D --> It's so magnificently depraved

CALL CPA PLEASE: 13

Aradia ribbits again and he takes it for roleplaying, but commands her to continue to do as she pleases. He tells her he’s bringing the robot body, and muses on whether she should actually be co-leader again; in fact, he decides, she should be the actual leader, in secret, through him. She points out that’s what they’re doing anyway.

CT: D --> You take to authority well for one of your b100d

AA: i d0nt have bl00d

CT: D --> Not yet

CT: D --> But soon your heart will beat anew, and through it, fresh b100d and fresh passion

AA: 0_0

CALL CPA PLEASE: 14

Equius proceeds to STRONGJUMP right up to his first Gate, punching off an ogre’s head as he goes, and to STRONGFALL out into LOQAM, where Aradia waits. Equius hands over the robot and Aradia enters it; she seems happy, but Equius cautiously asks if she feels anything else.

EQUIUS: D --> Can you detect anything within you might describe as

EQUIUS: D --> Smoldering passion

[...]

ARADIABOT: 0h g0d

ARADIABOT: 0H MY G0D WHAT DID Y0U D0!

ARADIABOT: did y0u pr0gram this r0b0t t0 have feelings f0r y0u?

ARADIABOT: R0MANTIC FEELINGS???

EQUIUS: D --> Hrrrk

ARADIABOT: ANSWER ME BLUE BL00D SCUM

EQUIUS: D --> I

EQUIUS: D --> Yes

EQUIUS: D --> Uh

EQUIUS: D --> It's a chip in your heart

EQUIUS: D --> Is that not ok

Understandably, it is emphatically not.

GORE GALORE: 12

Now, this is undeniably a really, really, really creepy thing to do. I’m not sure how much blame can be applied to Equius here, though; he’s been raised in a society which would presumably tell him she would have to accept his advances no matter what, considering their caste difference. In a horrifying way, the chip might have been, in his mind, the nicer option. Still, as I said, creepy.

CALL CPA PLEASE: 15

BRIGHT: I think it’s telling that he asks if it’s not okay after Aradia freaks out, as though he honestly hadn’t considered that Aradia might have a problem with it. Specifically, up until that point, Equius seems to be interacting with Aradia more like she’s a prop than a person — it doesn’t seem to occur to him that she might not want what he wants, unless their wants conflict in a way that he finds titillating. Then she freaks out and he’s surprised. And that in turn speaks volumes about how lowbloods are viewed by highbloods in wider society.

Contrast Vriska, who absolutely realises that people down spectrum can have their own agendas and emotional reactions; she just does her own thing anyway. Vriska is actively malicious; Equius is, at least in this case, accidentally malicious. Note that he doesn’t make any effort to prevent her from removing the chip once he realises she’s distressed. (Not that he really gets a chance.)

Equius in particular also seems to have a problem about slotting people into roles in general -- he does it with Gamzee, too, although since Gamzee is higher-blooded than him, he has to at least face the fact that Gamzee doesn’t fit into his role. He comes across as very sheltered.

FAILURE ARTIST: Equius considers it such a good thing to be a highblood that he thinks he’s doing her the greatest favor by turning her into one.

CHEL: This also brings up the question of where he got all that blue blood. I hope it’s synthetic. If not, he’s already said he doesn’t kill animals, so I’m not sure whether it’s creepier if he killed another troll for it or if he slowly drained it off from his own.

Aradia’s not contemplating that, too busy crushing the artificial heart and slapping the shit out of Equius for multiple pages, before, er…

Yes, she’s apparently making out with him as a reward for violating her mind, even after the chip was removed.

BRIGHT: The first time I read Homestuck, I thought that was meant to imply that not all of the programming was gone.

FAILURE ARTIST: Hussie did confirm the programming was gone. He compared it to a failed roofying.

CHEL: This is a bit of a shock, but it makes somewhat more sense when we see more of troll culture, not long in the future. Still, right now it’s probably upsetting for a number of readers because that part of troll culture hasn’t been established, so…

CALL CPA PLEASE: 16

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 41

#Homespork #homestuck #review #reread #Let's read #homestuck meta #vriskourse

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raybyanothername · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker Characters: Harley Keener, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds Additional Tags: Background Relationships, Big Brothers, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism Summary:

When in doubt, call for help.

Five times Peter calls Harley for help and one time Harley calls Peter.

If you like this fic and are feeling generous: https://ko-fi.com/raybyanothername

Harley was elbows deep in an engine when his phone started ringing. He grumbled, pulling his hands out and slid from beneath his mother's sedan with a few grunts and one curse word. He managed to avoid tripping over his own feet as he stood, catching himself on the workbench. He tapped the green button without looking at the screen.

"I screwed up Harley," the voice was soft, light and the teenage boy on the other end of his phone was sniffling. "I screwed up and now Tony's pissed at me, May's mad, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Pete," Harvey said his name slowly, "What happened?"

This was the moment Harley Keener, age 17, realized he had more than one younger sibling. And spiders were harder than sisters.

"So… Tony took your suit?" Harley's eyes scrunched together.

"Yeah. He said if I'm nothing without the suit than I shouldn't have it." Peter had stopped sniffling now, which Harley took to mean that the crying portion of the evening was done. His voice was still a wavering whisper.

Harley sighed, plopping down from his perch on the work table to open his minifridge. "You're making me agree with Tony. And I was really looking forward to arguing with him."

"What?!" Peter screeched, "But. I'm Spiderman, I can't just disappear!"

"You're also 15." Harley rolled his eyes, already prepared for sputters and rambling defense. "You've quit most of your hobbies, Pete. All the stuff you use to enjoy. Just to be Spiderman."

Peter squawked, "Just?!"

"Dude, you have your whole life to be a super hero." Harley wished he lived closer to New York so he could show up in Queens with ice cream and a foam bat. "You only get a few years as a kid."

"So, what? I just stop being Spiderman?"

Maybe Tony would pay for a plane ticket?

"Technically, you were Spiderman before Tony gave you a suit." Harley grabbed a soda from his fridge, he popped the top one handed. "But. You could also take a break. See what being Peter Parker is like again."

Peter was quiet for a minute. "Just Peter Parker?"

"Just?!" Harley mimicked Peter's earlier outrage. Peter chuckled. "Peter Parker is way more than Spiderman. Just like Tony is more than Iron Man."

Peter was quiet again. Harley drank his soda, slurping loudly so Peter could hear him. The teen started laughing again, "You're way better at explaining this than Tony was."

"Who do you think lectures him about it?" Harley grinned to himself. They answered simultaneously.

"Rhodey."

"So... why's May mad?" Harley asked as he started back towards his workbench.

Peter's laugh turned nervous, "I…kinda got detention. For ditching school."

Harley paused in his step, "Dude. You screw up our plans for MIT, I will kick your ass. Spider powers be damned." He took another drink, "Speaking of, does Ned own a foam bat?"

-.-.-

>>> Help!!!

Harley looked at the three exclamation marks as he walked out of class. He started walking towards Amherst St as he typed out a response to Ned.

>>> What's Peter doing now?

>>> Planning.

Oh. That could not be good. Harley checked his watch and then tapped on his phone app. Peter picked up quickly, which meant Karen had redirected him.

"Ned is concerned." Wind whistled. Definitely swinging.

"It's a perfectly good plan!" Peter's voice was huffed. The wind stopped. Peter cleared his throat, "It's way better than his European bachelors plan!"

Harley stopped mid-step, "What is Ned planning to do to the European bachelors?" Someone jostled him from behind and Harley kept walking.

"No," Peter scoffed, "We'd be bachelors in Europe. Pick up women in every city sort of deal."

"Given that you're both awkward and completely inept at flirting -" Peter screeched "- I agree, that's a horrible plan." Harley punched in his code at the entrance to his dorm.

Peter immediately launched a defense, "I'm not completely inept! I got the most popular girl in school to go with me to Homcoming onc-"

"Then you ditched her to take down a supervillain.

"- And! I'm smooth, like I'm a superhero, so obviously I have killer moves."

Harley snorted, "Are you or are you not currently standing atop a building in your suit talking to midair." Peter shut up. "And gesturing! I'd be missing a key part of the whole scene if I forgot the hand gestures."

"Okay…you may have a point." Peter grumbled. Harley smiled to himself as he climbed the stairs. He'd just reached his room when Peter finally broke under the pressure of silence. "But my plan to ask MJ out will totally work!"

Aha! MJ. He should have known.

"Please," Harley threw his bag on his bed and took a seat at his desk, "Enlighten me." He kicked his feet up onto the desk as he leaned the chair back onto two legs.

Peter immediately jumped into a thorough explanation of his courtship blueprint, "So it starts on the plane…"

-.-.-

There was a loud ringing in Harley's ear that wouldn't stop. He groaned and pushed at the large piece of a building on his chest. At least he was fairly positive the debris was from a building. That had been what the dude with the superpowers had thrown at him.

"How the hell did Tony handle a moon?" Harley whined as the repulsors in his hand blew the rubble away. He stood on shakey feet. At least the superpowered maniac had been subdued by his drones. "Nate, damage report?"

Harley shook his head as his A.I. began listing out his injuries. Nothing major, just a few bruised ribs and a possible concussion. The damage to the area was worse, several of the buildings were missing sections of walls, even foundations.

"Dude, couldn't you have given some consideration to structural integrity?!" Harley aimed his shout at the person he'd just taken into custody. Given the way they were snarling and struggling against their restraints, Harley considered the chance of a response minimal.

"Shall I reach out to the Xavier Institute?" Nate's electronic voice filtered through Harley's ear. He merely nodded and within minutes Nate had an E.T.A blinking in the upper corner of his display.

It was longer than Harley was hoping for. His dream of a nice long soak before bed was looking more like a quick shower at this point. He blamed Tony. It was his idea, and his requirement, that Harley sleep a minimum of six hours a night before work. It was in the Young Avengers' contract AND his Stark Industries contract.

"You have an incoming call from Peter Parker." Nate didn't wait for Harley to acknowledge him, he connected Peter immediately.

"If this has anything to with superhumans, metahumans, or a coming apocalypse I must inform you that I'm already at my maximum superhero hours for the week." Harley grinned as Peter's face appeared on his screen. The younger man's face immediately startled, eyes going wide.

In the video call Peter was standing in his dorm room, two ties in his hands, "I just need to know which color I should wear for my presentation…"

"Well, then…" Harley laughed, "Free as a bird. This is the Stark Foundation thing right? The proposals for funding?"

Peter nodded and his voice literally squeaked, "Yeah."

"Purple." Harley ignored both the red and blue ties in Peter's hand. "Everyone always wears red for that and Morgan will be there so she'll get a kick out you wearing Rescue's colors instead."

"Pepper won't think I'm trying to butter her up?" Peter threw the ties in his hand on his bed and started rifling in one of his drawers. He emerged with a triumphant cheer and a purple tie in hand. There were cartoon stars drawn on it in yellow.

Harley grinned at Morgan's attempts to 'brighten up' Peter's wardrobe, "Nah. Rhodey's judging this year." Peter visibly breathed out. "Relax, Pete, your project's good on its own. You deserve the funding, same as everyone else."

"I just don't want anyone to think I'm taking advantage…" Peter averted his eyes. Harley snorted. Peter glared.

"Dude, Tony offered you the money to fund the project outright and you applied for the grant instead," Harley looked pointedly at Peter before rolling his eyes. "Now, put on your tie and try not to stutter."

The sound of a jet landing nearby cut off Peter's attempts to defend himself. Harley smiled before he hung up. It was officially bath time!

-.-.-

There was no doubt in Harley's mind who was calling. The phone hadn't shut up in at least half an hour and there were only three people in his life that persistent. And his little sister was in Bali with Morgan, so that left Peter. Nate would have informed him of any family or Avengers related emergency, so Harley just let it ring. Eventually, it stopped.

God did his head hurt. He had no idea how Tony had ever managed to function back when he drank. Harley barely managed to grab his trash can when the phone started up again.

"Nate!" Harley called out as he crawled from his spot on the floor to the couch. He brought the waste basket with him.

"How may I be of service, *sir*?"

Harley cringed. Nate only sir-ed when he was annoyed. "Will you please tell Peter to call back later? I really can't deal with the noise much longer."

"Of course, sir."

The window in front of Harley darkened and then Peter appeared on his screen. "Harley! I've been calling for an hour!"

"Sh-" Harley groaned and then tried not to get any splatter on his hair as emptied his stomach. Peter gaped at him from the screen.

"Are you…*drunk*?" Peter whispered the word like it was a curse and his eyes even darted around like he expected someone to reprimand him. Which…okay, Harley understood that. "Mr. Stark will be furious! It's 10am!"

Harley glared at him, "I'm hungover, not drunk. And it's Saturday, Pete." Peter looked unconvinced, lips pursed and eyes wide. "What'd'ya need? I need to crawl to my bathtub sometime in the near future."

"What?" Peter's lips quirked and he hid a laugh by biting his tongue. "I…uh, just need some advice."

"If you're trying to get back with MJ again I will get on a plane right now to vomit on you." Harley said with a monotone. "You've both broken up with each other now. The circle is complete."

Peter blushed, "It's not MJ!" He started stammering and waving his hands around immediately. Harley blinked as he attempted to dissect Peter's description of study breaks and movie marathons and… Oh!

"You finally figured out you're in love with Ned, congratulations." Harley droned out, though he did manage to smile when Peter startled so bad at the word love that he got himself stuck on the ceiling. "I promise to be more excited when my body stops trying to invert itself."

"That's why we're not suppose to drink!" Peter crossed his arms as he jumped back to the floor. He frowned at Harley.

Harley shrugged, "Everyone has to try being drunk at least once right?" Peter's brow furrowed further. Harley sighed, "What advice do you need, Pete?"

"Well…" Peter dropped his hands to his side. His eyes shifted to the ground. "…I don't know how to ask Ned out."

"Repeat after me, Pete," Harley started. Peter scrunched up his brows, but nodded. Harley grinned, "Hi Ned."

"Hi, Ned."

"I like you..."

"…I like you…" Peter fidgeted.

Harley continued, "As more than friends."

"As more than friends."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Can I kiss you?" Peter repeated the words and then coughed, "What?! No! I can't say that, it's too forward!"

Harley rolled his eyes and then immediately flinched. "Nate?" Harley groaned. His A.I. chirped to attention. "Send the recording of this video to Ned."

"As you wish." Harley smiled at the lack of 'sir.'

On the screen Peter was yelling. Harley just leaned back against his sofa, "I've been watching you two pine after each other for years, Pete. You'll thank me later." He reached forward and hit a button on his remote.

Peter's face blinked away.

"The video has been received."

Harley nodded and then started the long crawl for his bathtub. Nate decided to report on the side effects of excessive alcohol consumption the whole way.

Three hours later he got a text from Peter.

>>> You're an asshole when you drink. >>>…but thanks.

-.-.-

With great power came great responsibility… and apparently a whole slew of teens who didn't realize superheroing didn't come with health insurance.

"How does someone even break this many bones sparring with a dummy?" Harley groused to himself as he read over the incident report from the last Young Avengers training session.

Tony'd taken one look at it, burst out laughing, and handed the report to Harley. He bet Captain America didn't have to deal with this sort of thing.

"Na-te…" Harley whined and pushed his tablet away to lay his head on the table. His A.I. chirped to life with a sound exceptionally similar to a snicker.

"How may I be of service?" Nate was far too cheerful.

Harley glowered at the ceiling, "How much would it cost to pad every surface in one of the training rooms?"

"Calculating…" Nate drawled, "I don't believe that will be conducive to a realistic training experience."

"Let me dream," Harley sighed and reached for his tablet just as it began to chirp with new notifications. None of them were from his team or a medical professional, for once.

His phone started ringing with Peter's ringtone and Harley had no time to greet his little brother before the younger man started rambling, "Open the attachment! Open it!"

"Okay…" Harley chuckled and clicked in to one of his notifications, it was indeed a message with a photo attachment from his favorite spider-themed superhero. He grinned as the message loaded up on to the projector screen, "This isn't some weird porn like last time is it?"

"That was perfectly tasteful fanart of me!" Peter was definitely blushing, and bouncing on the balls of his feet based on his excitement. Based on the thudding, he might even be bouncing from wall to wall.

Harley tapped slowly on his screen, "I don't know, that was an iffy pose for you and Deadpool to be in together... You know he's too old for you right?"

"Harley!" Peter whined just as Harley finally hit the button for the photo to pop up on the screen.

"Holy shit…" Harley breathed out at the ring suddenly sitting before his eyes. It had a spider web like design around the band and some small red and blue stones at key joints in the webbing. "Is that…"

"It's good right?" Peter launched into a frantic ramble immediately, "I know it's kind of Spiderman themed but Ned's been my Guy in the Chair for years now so I thought he'd like the nod, ya know? Sort of, I don't acknowledging his contributions as my teammate and my…my…uh…"

Harley pursed his lips as Peter stumbled over calling Ned his boyfriend.

"…it's just not enough of the right word!" Peter stomped his foot. "He's more than that, and I want to get this right…"

"Want me to send him a recording of you rambling about how to phrase your proposal?" Harley asked and Peter squawked. Harley laughed, "You got this Peter. He'll love it."

Peter let out an audible breath, "Okay, yeah, you're right."

"You've been inseperable for years, even before you starting making out on rooftops," Harley teased, illicting another squawk from Peter, "Chances are you won't even have to say anything, just get down on one knee and show him the ring."

Harley looked up at his screen at the intricate metalwork. It was absolutely the most Peter style ring he'd ever seen.

"And hey, if he says no, I have a whole legion of semi-competent teenagers you can have has consolation."

Peter snorted, "No way. The Young Avengers are your problem. I'm strictly a solo guy until we get invaded by aliens."

"I'll throw in a set of ginsu knives!" Harley half-begged as Peter started laughing at him. His tablet chirped with a notification from the Avengers medical unit. "Please?!"

"I'll take the knives as a wedding present instead," Peter chuckled. Harley pouted for a second until he heard a faint gasp from Peter's side of the phone.

Ned's voice was quiet from distance and slightly squeaky, "What wedding?" Peter's line went dead just as Harley started cackling.

"I have the estimates for a padded training room," Nate cut in as Harley slouched back in his chair.

"Email it to me," Harley sighed and kicked his feet up on the chair, "I'm gonna celebrate Peter's engagement first, before I get bombarded with wedding planning."

Nate chirped unhappily as Harley ordered one of his drones to grab him a bottle of champagne. It was 5 o'clock somewhere after all.

-.-.-

+ 1

Being Peter's big brother was a lot easier when Peter was the one coming to him for help. Girls, boys, spidey-related mishaps - Harley could handle it all. This… this was out of his area of expertise.

"Hey Harley!" Peter answered on the first ring in a chipper voice. The sounds of machinery in the background told Harley he was at his lab, probably manufacturing some cool new gadget.

"Hey…" Harley's voice sounded rough and strained even to him. "You, uh, got a sec?"

Peter's side of the phone suddenly went quiet and his voice lowered to a whisper, "Is everything okay Harley?"

"Tony might have been right about my overextending myself," Harley cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, "With the Young Avengers and taking over Stark Industries and coordinating with the Accords council and-"

"What do you need?" Peter asked, all ready to launch in to action. Harley heard him futzing around his lab and had to smile at the visual in his head. "What can I do?"

Harley took a breath, glanced around at the deserted beach he was sitting on. His Iron Lad armor, and Nate, were nowhere in sight. There was an empty bottle of tequila at his feet. Harley really hated when Tony was right.

"Well… I kinda need a ride, to start."

"You got it!" Peter starting typing, the familiar sounds of clacking keys practically music to Harley's ears. "Where are you?"

That… was a really good question.

"Haven't a clue," Harley chuckled dryly. The sound cracking in his throat, "Honestly, I'm not even sure this is the phone I had last night."

Peter coughed to hide his squeak, "Don't worry, I'll triangulate your signal, Harley. You'll be home in no time!"

Yup. Home. Where Tony would be waiting with worry and disappointment in equal measure.

"Damn. I really screwed up this time, huh Pete?" Harley knew he was in trouble when Peter didn't laugh. Welp. Even big brothers screw him sometimes, or so Rhodey had told him once.

"That's what brothers are for right?" Peter said with a half-laugh Harley knew was meant to be comforting.

It actually was too. Harley fell backwards into the sand, "Yeah, thanks Pete."

#ray writes #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel #mcu spiderman #iron family #harley keener #peter parker

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baektempo · 5 years

Text

Tiny Victories [2/6]

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: The Adventures of Baekhyun, his failing Divination classes, and his broomstick named Peanut.

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: Please tell me what you think of it so far, I would love to talk to you about it :)

Saturday morning. After two hours of Quidditch practice, Baekhyun is soaked in sweat. He has a fuzzy head and nausea is clenching his insides. Chanyeol did not joke about preparing for their next match with Ravenclaw.

He groans as he flops onto his bed, towel drying his hair. He remembers the roasted chicken. Your lips—your pretty, pretty lips. The kitchens. And—fuck, the donuts. The jam donuts he was supposed to be eating with you at midnight.

He’s ready to throw himself into the Black Lake and get eaten by the Giant Squid or something.

He sits there for a few minutes. Would you still talk to him after he ditched you to sleep? And his class—Professor Sinistra is gonna hang his ass from the Astronomy tower.

A while later, Jongdae comes into their room and gives Baekhyun a funny look. “Did you not see those?”

He points at a paper bag resting on his nightstand, with a note attached to it. Baekhyun sets the towel down and picks up the paper bag.

I figured you’d stood me up when you didn’t come to eat these sugary beautiful donuts. Don’t worry, I saved you two. And don’t forget, you’re gonna buy me all the Cherry Syrup I want from Madam Puddifoot’s. ☺

Your writing is neat and scribbly. He’s unsure of the huge smiley face that you’ve drawn, it seems like a warning. Next time you ditch me, I’ll hex you—something like that.

But still, there’s a grin on his face he re-reads it again. He looks up to see Jongdae with that funny look still on his face. “What?”

“She asked you to meet at the Hogsmeade Station,” Jongdae looks at his wristwatch, “at 10 am.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun says and chews his cheek. “It’s 9:45 am.”

Jongdae shrugs, plopping onto his bed. His cat, Blossom, climbs onto the bed, purring at Jongdae and gives Baekhyun a dirty look. That cat hates him.

He wastes no time as he huffs down the stairs, running through the corridors. He even considers flying to the station with his broomstick. But none of that can do.

He sees you talking to some third years by the time he makes it to the station. Although he’s bundled up in his warmest clothes, he feels almost as a cold sweat breaks out. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you—again.

“Glad to know you could make it on time, Baekhyun,” you tease, a smile gracing your lips.

Baekhyun is caught off guard as he puffs out laughs into the air, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m, I’m so sorry—I fell asleep after practice. I also missed class,”

You didn’t ask for an explanation nor do you look mad, but your lips still quirk up with appreciation as you nod. “Jongdae was complaining about how you and Chanyeol wouldn’t wake up. Let’s get going then, shall we?”

The carriage ride to High Street isn’t anything notable, just a few pubescent boys trying to impress you as Baekhyun tried his best to keep a scowl off of his face. He should be getting all the attention.

However, ten minutes later, his hands are freezing as he’s gathering all the snow he can possibly collect to form the largest snowball he can make.

He aims directly for your face and shoots, and as the best Chaser in the team—he scores.

The snowball catches you off guard, as you yelp and fall on your butt. Baekhyun is chortling, hand on his knee, one hand on his stomach because there’s a cramp from laughing too hard.

You laugh too.

“That was so unfair!” you say, aiming a poorly built snowball at him. It lands three feet away from him.

“Alright,” he chuckles, “Now that we’ve decided on who’s the best snowballer, lets go drink something warm.”

“Hey, I could’ve cast a charm to win but I didn’t,” You sass. “But now I’m freezing, and I forgot to bring my gloves.”

There’s a million spells Baekhyun knows that can warm you up, but at this moment he doesn't need the feel to pick out his wand and cast a charm. Instead, he takes out his favorite gloves. The color is fading and there are strings hanging loose, but they’re still his favorite. He hands you his gloves.

“But won’t you be cold?” Steam blows as you speak ruefully. Baekhyun starts to see flecks of snow gently falling atop your head.

“I don’t mind the cold.” Liar. He despised the cold.

Maybe you know that he’s lying out of his mouth. But you still put on his gloves, and they’re a little big for you but there’s a huge grin on your face and it makes Baekhyun feels a bit warm on the inside.

By the time the both of you make it to Madam Puddifoot’s, he knows more about you: the socks that scream once Jongdae has worn them too much was a gift you gave to him last year. You would like to become a Curator, but you don't tell anyone about it because they might think that you’re a bit boring. You also hate going to the Forbidden Forest because spiders scare you a lot.

He also traded some secrets: he wants to compete in the Quidditch World Cup one day. He once cast a memory charm to make sure Filch didn’t remember him sneaking out with his friends to drink Firewhisky. He also is terrified of owls.

Madam Puddifoot’s is a dainty little tea shop. He feels out of place as he sits somewhat cramped on the chair.

“I know, the place is super… tacky. But I promise the drinks are really good,” you say hopefully.

“It’s okay, I’ve just never been here before.” He takes a peek at the other customers in the tea shop. They were all cuddled up against each other and… are they—are they making out?

Baekhyun coughs and clears his throat, hoping his ears aren’t red with embarrassment as he focuses his attention on you again. You are fidgeting with the lacy napkins on the tabletop, acting like you didn’t see him witness the snogging couples.

“I guess this place is more popular with couples.” He comments.

“I guess so.” You admit, a shy smile on your face.

“Miss ___, you sneaky girl. I did not know that you had a boyfriend!” Madam Puddifoot greets the both of you.

“He—he’s not my boyfriend!” Your eyes widen, cheeks flooding with warmth. Baekhyun is having way too much fun to see you flail over the accusation.

“Yet,” the older witch winks, taking both of your orders. Baekhyun picks a black coffee and you go with a warm tea.

“God, I’m so sorry. I think we’re better off at The Three Broomsticks.” you snort. He gazes for a moment at the soft expression in your eyes, and nods.

“If you want to.”

“We could meet up tomorrow… if you’re free?” you suggest.

Baekhyun pauses. He picks up the freshly brewed coffee, thinking of how to reject you in the nicest way. “I’m, uh, not gonna be free tomorrow.”

“Oh. Well. There’s always a next time,” There’s no anger or disappointment in your voice. Which is why he has been looking forward to spending more time with you. “There’s an essay I have to complete by Monday, so I’ll just stay back at Hogwarts.”

Baekhyun feels bad. “I, uh, I feel like I’m bringing the team down. So I want to practice more.” He admits.

There's a flash of emotions on your face, but a warm smile wins. He nearly faints as your hand covers his on the table. “I can’t imagine how bad you must be feeling over losing, but I promise you that I always admired your skills.”

His lips part in surprise. “You’ve seen me play?”

“Well, I am in the same house, you… goober. Gotta be supportive and all that.” You say lightly, and draw your hand away from his. He nearly protests at the loss of contact.

“Will you come to cheer me on for the next match this week?” he asks coolly and pauses, “Only if you’re free.”

Your eyes are glinting with a warmth and he feels cozy by it. “I would love to.”

—

Baekhyun breathes out a massive sigh and blinks his eyes. He can hear the snowstorm outside, and shivers in the dark of his dorm room.

He yanks off his blankets as Jongdae’s cat meows at him. He gives the cat a good glare. What business is the dumb cat upto this late, anyway?

He sucks in a breath, swings his feet onto the hardwood floor and walks downstairs. He blinks at the fireplace, and finds his way onto his favorite armchair when he spots you—laying on the carpet, scribbling away furiously with your quill.

He whispers out your name, and you nearly leap into the fireplace. “Merlin’s beard!” you gasp, “You scared me,”

He snickers and slides down onto the warm, thick rug—right next to you. “Why are you up so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” your voice is only a hush in the dim lit common room. The wind scratches against the windows, and Baekhyun sees the snow swirling furiously in the air.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He admits.

You set down the quill, and curl up next to him. An embrace of seeping warmth from your body makes him sigh.

“You’re nervous,” you state. Your eyes are closed. Baekhyun hums, he doesn’t really want to agree with that. Especially to you. He doesn't want to seem… weak.

“Hey, its okay, you know,” your voice is a soothing balm. “I used to think that purebloods were better than me. But honestly, it never mattered. Because at the end of the day, I became a prefect only ‘cause I worked my ass off for it.”

You chuckle. Baekhyun’s throat feels tight.

“What I’m trying to say is that… you work really, really hard. And although you don't think so, I think that you’re the best Chaser in all of Hogwarts. I know that you’ll do your best tomorrow, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun is quiet for a moment—he is wondering if you’re heaven-sent. He then shifts his body towards you. His lips lift into a loopy smile.

“I really hope we win. I heard that there’s gonna be a scout for the National Quidditch Team tomorrow,” he sighs.

“They better pick you, I’ll make sure they do,” you say. “If not, I’ll protest outside the Ministry or something.”

Baekhyun laughs—it echoes in the open space of the common room. He yawns again, and closes his eyes.

“I know we just became friends but, thank you. For always believing in me.”

—

Baekhyun’s face is bright red when he enters the Gryffindor common room with his teammates. A cacophony of voices and laughter fill the overcrowded room. Students wearing blue, yellow and green pop out from the dozens of reds.

He feels a bit overwhelmed with everyone’s eyes on him. He tries to hide away in a corner, but Jongdae’s shrill voice thunder across the room.

“Coooongradulaaations!”

“Good lord,” Baekhyun mumbles, and his eyes catches a huge three tiered chocolate cake. It is smothered in chocolate frosting, and there’s a huge CONGRATULATIONS! written on with red frosting. He licks his lips in anticipation.

The chocolate cake is placed on a small table and Baekhyun wonders how it’s holding up as he shuffles closer to Chanyeol. His teammates blows the candles—and he’s worried for a second that Professor Dumbledore is gonna get annoyed for such a huge ruckus being caused at the common room.

Baekhyun can't help but snicker as he sees Sehun, a close friend from Slytherin getting tangled in a streamer.

Jongin shoves a plate with a massive slice of chocolate cake towards Baekhyun. He digs into it with a fork, and takes a bite. He swallows, and almost cries from how amazing it tastes.

“Isn’t it good? Me, Jongdae, Minseok and ____ went to the Kitchens last night to help the elves bake the cake,” Jongin says. He has been a friend of Baekhyun ever since they were in the same train compartment on his first year at Hogwarts.

Baekhyun speaks with his mouth full. “It’s really good.” Jongin cringes at him.

He finds Jongdae tucked away in a corner, laughing as he speaks with Minseok. He hears Minseok complaining about an owl biting his finger. He shudders at the thought.

“Hey, Baekhyun! I almost fell out of the tower from screaming out your name so loud,” Minseok jokes and slaps his back. “You were truly the star of the match.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

There’s a proud smile on Jongdae’s face. Minseok tells them he’s going to the Ravenclaw common room to grieve over their loss.

“When did you have the time to bake a cake?” Baekhyun blurts as soon as Minseok leaves. “You were dead asleep last night!”

“You were asleep next to ____ when I woke up to my alarm,” Jongdae says impishly as he grins back at Baekhyun and wiggles his eyebrows.

Baekhyun clears his throat.

“This is so good,” he says loudly to Jongdae over the scuffle, shoving another forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth. Jongdae does not tease him about it afterwards.

The cake is nearly gone by the time everyone gravitates to other places. Baekhyun waves to Sehun and Kyungsoo as they leave. Chanyeol is arm-wrestling with Yixing. Their voices hit the ceiling. Junmyeon couldn’t make it to the party, considering that he was the Head Boy—and had to soothe his Housemates over their loss.

That was okay, he can meet up with the boys next Saturday.

Baekhyun watches you play rock, paper, scissors with a 4th year, and grins as you snatch the plate of cake away after winning. You’re smiling as you catch his eyes, heading to sit on the same couch as him.

“You did so great,” you say lightly.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun replies, smiling a little. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He gestures at the floating balloons, pieces of paper scattered from the party poppers and what is left of the cake.

“Okay? But we did it anyway,” you shrug.

He scowls, and nudges you with his elbow. There’s a gleeful laugh, and you set the empty plate on a table top and collapse next to him.

Baekhyun shifts closer to you as you find the perfect spot to rest—using his chest to rest your head on.

His insides feel funny—and it's not from the cake.

“So, did you sneak into the kitchens without me?” Baekhyun says, pretending to be hurt.

“What makes you think I’d make you decorate a cake that’s meant for you?” you quip lazily.

“Fine. I liked it. And I like you a lot better now,” Baekhyun mumbles.

“Well, I like you enough to make a cake.” you clarify. “I’m so proud of you, Baek.”

“I haven’t felt this happy for the longest time. Maybe I was in a slump,” Baekhyun breathes in your familiar, warm scent.

“I’m glad you feel better now,” you squeeze his hand. Baekhyun feels his heart almost lurch out of his chest.

Baekhyun pulls you in closer with a fond smile.

“Wonder what’s for dinner tonight.”

#baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun fluff #exo imagine #hogwarts au #byun baekhyun x reader #byun baekhyun x you #series: stamtb

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vixthefantheorist · 5 years

Text

Is Anti the Shadow of the Egos pt. 2

Or an add on really. But an important one that I did touch on in my previous post - right here - that I didn’t go into detail yet. Or I was planning too but forgot the words at the time since I was writing that at like... midnight or something.

Anyway, the bit that I wanted to focus on now is this little tidbit.

Again its just theory I have. That Anti is/was a Shadow self of Jack but evolved into something more. Hell maybe Anti is the shadow of all the egos, absorbing their fears and darkness that they refuse to face… with the exception of Chase to a degree. Chase is a ball of negativity and acknowledges it, but likely refuses to face the reason of why or do anything about it; and Anti finds it funny or hell thinks of him as a battery to drain energy from. Who knows.

The reason I point that out is.. because it is true each ego has their own set of fears. Fears that Anti would be all to happy to latch onto and needle at them with. But the biggest fear they all collectively *share* - is the fear of being forgotten and replaced.

Which of course is a valid reason. Seán had stated before that all the egos are each their own person, not fragments of Jack or anything. At least in the Lore. But the thing is it doesn’t matter if they are or not. Every human in the world has their own fears. Spiders, darkness, oceans, etc. But again, the biggest fear nearly everyone has... is being forgotten and replaced. We are creatures that desire to be remembered in some shape or form. Thus, we leave behind pieces of ourselves in creativity. Art, music, literature, architecture and of course important points in history. We all want to be remembered.

The thing is that Egos thrive and exist on the attention and memory of the creator and the community. If the community forgets, they exist to the creator. If the creator forgets but the community remembers, they exist to them. But if both forget... they vanish. Fade into nothing. And that’s the problem. People are easily swayed by the next new thing, creators and community shift ideas often but as long as they love the creations, the Egos in this case, then they don’t need to worry for a while. But eventually they would fade like all things do. Back on track, sorry, Egos fear being forgotten and/or replaced by whatever new thing pops up. Anti has that fear as well despite how he rants about attention, which is likely fear disguised as rage.Anyway, that is ONE fear they all share... even with Anti... perhaps that fear... one they know is there but do not want to think about... not want to face... is where Anti came from.

Maybe. I don’t know for certain.

But if that is one fear that links them all together than its that one fear Anti is anchored to, his link to the egos, his way to possess them and interfere with any chances they try to use to rescue Jack or each other from his influence. A link that he uses to read their other fears, invade their dreams and twist them into nightmares. And a root to draw in their hidden negativity.

Because, come on, we all know no one is innocent here. Each one has a skeleton in their closet and we don’t know those yet because we haven’t gotten to those points yet. But they do have a certain... anger to the community. Or at least I think so. After all, this is just my theory and observation, so take it with a grain salt.

Each ego may or may not have an bone to pick with the Community. Again, just *My* thoughts. JJ: Hardly seen as anything but innocent with no real way to defend himself. Either he’s good or evil that’s all really anyone thinks of him. Nothing more than that.

Marvin: Again, good or evil, a magician with magic... nothing else. Much like JJ and gets pity.

Henrik: No one really talks about his family troubles. Either he’s a good friend or a crack job doctor, but again no one really speaks about how his wife cheated on him and took his children away to run off with some tennis instructor.

Jackie: A loved superhero... that gets dumped extremely quickly for a new or better version of him. I mean there was that time that everyone started drawing Seán in spiderman outfits and Jackie was shoved into the backburner for a while. Then people started to change Jackie to be less Jackieboy Man to... JSE version of Spiderman.

Chase: Barely gets anything written or drawn of him with a happy ending. Everything is very depressing and people seem to not want to see that change. So... his life is constantly in a state of depression. And who decided that was his life until spoken otherwise? Seán - or Jack, depending on how you see it.

Again, these are just probabilities, and bits I of info I got from a couple of other theorists I spoke to in the JSE discord server, so its second hand knowledge and *NOT* 100% correct or accurate. (Kinda hard to with 22 + million fans running around) Everyone has their own ideas of the Egos, so this is *not* a blast at anyone. So please don’t think of it as such.

Anyway, each Ego has a sore spot and a bit of anger they may not want to face and acknowledge out of fear. And as I said in the previous post, that negative emotions that are rejected break away into shadows. If this was a case of Anti being a shadow like the shadow selves from Persona.

If Anti absorbs that, then he knows their darkness, their fears and can use it against them in various ways. To corrupt them to join him, to have them turn on the community and Jack. Or slowly drive them insane. Take your pick.

Its like Anti is the major shadow in this show. Because if you remember Dr. Jacksepticeye, the one ‘ego’ that was trying to pass off as the good doctor and we all knew it was Henrik Von Schneeplestein that is our good doctor ego. We were all suspicious. And Henrik kicked in the door and wanted this person out of his chair and out of his spot as the doctor. That was fear. Henrik’s fear of being replaced by someone new... a shadow of himself in a way. And from then, we do not know what happened to Dr. Jack or Henrik.

And in Chase’s case, he was completely abandoned and forgotten by Stacy and the kids. Was it by choice? Who knows? Did she remarry? Who knows? But its hurting Chase deeply since he cannot for the life of him somehow get them to take him back or prove he is a good husband and father. Honestly, being the one with the most fleshed out story, we still don’t know much of Chase or his situation. Just that he’s depressed and lonely and struggling to move on. Jack and Henrik seemed to be helping him with that, until Anti drop kicked Jack into a coma and can’t talk to him as he used to.

Do you think Anti is a shadow of them? Or just a shadow of Jack but linked to their central fear of being replaced? Or an amalgamation of their fears but sentient and wants revenge? Or something else? I’m curious.

---------

Though there is another way to see Anti. Not really a Shadow to Jack or the egos... but a Shadow; a dark mirror to -

Us. The community.

If you look at his behavior, its very similar to that of a community of fans, but in a negative light no one really wants to see or acknowledge.

Anti craves attention, very much like fans do when we crave attention from Seán, to get him to talk to us... *acknowledge us* as much as Anti wants acknowledgement. And if we don’t get it, we scream and rant... much like Anti.

We want control of the channel, to have him play this... or that... go here or there. Do this or that... like a puppet dancing for our entertainment. Exactly how Anti wishes control of others, making them cower and dance in fear for his entertainment.

Anti reflects how we are like a dark mirror. And I mean it, that we refuse to look at own darkness but we swoon and fawn over another's. We scream when we don't feel acknowledged or if the youtuber refuses to pay attention to what we want. Anti rants about acknowledgement.

Anti rages at not being paid attention to. Just as many fans of the community rage at not having anyone pay attention to what we do or make.

We want something done our way. Anti wants things his way.

We try at times to control something that wasn't ours... just as Anti does...

We yank on the strings to try to get what we want; then hate and threaten if we don't get it. And Anti does the same, hate and threaten the other Egos, Jack because he doesn’t get what he wants.

All fandoms have an ugly side that we often at times refuse to acknowledge exists. Perhaps Anti is our own Shadow... our mirror of ourselves as a community.

Now I say that, not out of arrogance or hate or anything. Hell no. I love this community, I love the people in it because I met people, completely strangers to me but all share the same love of the funny shit in Jacksepticeye. I get to geek out with them and come up with theories and AUs and all kids of fun things because of this community. I love Seán as friend I never met and the content he provides because it brightens my days. But I do acknowledge there is a darker side to all fandoms. We all know it and we all try to ignore it for good reasons.

I just wanted to point this out as a possibility, not a bash to the community or any side. Anti was created by the fans, by US, the community, and should be cherished as something fun. And that’s what it is. Anti is fun, I just really think it would blow my mind if Anti was a fun dark reflection to the community as a way to be linked to the story, the Lore that Seán is making.

Also remember the Lore he’s making isn’t a set in stone story that we all have to abide in writing or drawing the egos. Its just a story he wanted to do for and with us. He even stated himself that He has his own ideas of what Anti is, but its not included in the Lore to keep Anti flexible and fun for everyone to still come up with their own designs and origins of Anti.

But how is that? What do you think? Is Anti a dark reflection of our own darkness~?

#jacksepticeye #jse theories #Chase Brody #dr. schneeplestein #antisepticeye #marvin magnificent #jackieboyman #jameson jackson #vixtheories #Is Anti a shadow of the egos?#Or a shadow of ourselves?

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valdemarfuckers · 5 years

Text

ship questions game

original by @otp-imagines-cult

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other?

Aura. She insists on the newest and finest equipment in the lab, she picks out the masquerade costumes, and she handles Valdy’s estate. Valdemar always refuses her offer for gifts and fine things, so she has to show her monetary affection in more subtle ways, like upgrading the surgical tables “for the palace”. But Valdemar plans to leave their estate and body of work to her, so i guess you could say they’re even.

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap?

They will never admit to it but sometimes Valdemar curls up on Aura’s lap like a cat

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes?

Aura walks around semi nude in the dungeon and Valdy yells about lab safety. That’s the closest they get to that

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?

Aura tells Valdy not to stay up, Valdy stays up anyway. They don’t technically need sleep anymore, so

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies?

Aura tries to make food, but Volta pops in and eats the burnt cookies anyway

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”?

Only once ever did Aura show Valdemar a relationship meme. Valdy got a little bit uncomfortable with it because seeing others relate to the same things as them just felt too human

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes?

Aura sometimes will put on a surgical mask, headdress and rubber gloves and be like “hehe look at me in the scary evil quaestor, let me take a look at your liver” in an attempt to make Valdemar laugh. But on a regular basis? Well, those high heeled boots Valdy wears in the full sprite are actually Aura’s, technically.

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?”

Aura spent all day collecting herbs and black market potions only to forget the one thing valdemar asked for once she gets back

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?

in a modern AU, Valdy doesn’t have their license and Aura thinks traffic laws are mere suggestions so Nadia insists they take a cab. In the regular setting, they take horse drawn carriages everywhere.

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws?

Both do the drawing but only Aura does the posing. Sometimes Aura will doodle Valdy in her sketchbook when they aren’t looking

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?

Backflips: Aura, Strolling behind: Valdemar. Because they know the security can’t do shit about them, they don’t need to be careful so they just fuck around until they get to the thing they want to steal.

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?

Valdemar is a lightweight and gets fucked up on a single glass of wine at dinner with the court. It’s Aura who has to remind Nadia that it should just be grape juice for the beloved quaestor.

13: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?

Aura likes to give gifts but Valdemar doesn’t like to receive them, it’s unfortunate

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own?

Valdemar has long forgotten their last name (or maybe Valdemar IS their last name, and they forgot their first name?) so this doesn’t exactly apply to them. Although they do have jokes about the various things they’ve been called by others, like when Volta asked who’s taking whose name when they get married. (both of their reactions were like 😳 cause they didn’t even consider thinking about getting married, they just aren’t the type of people)

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?

Tbh neither. Valdemar would go to step on the spider and aura would scream NO LET ME TAKE IT OUTSIDE

#aura philopatora

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tiny-cloud-dragon · 5 years

Text

Random Bits: FF7 04 Ch2

[Setting - Zack has just had a tooth pulled, and has been handed off to Cloud, who now has to get his drugged up friend home]

[Location - Infirmary - Cloud and Zack are making their way down the hallway]

Cloud patiently lead Zack down the long corridor of exam rooms towards the Infirmary waiting room, doing his best to keep him upright, while Zack stumbled along like he had two rubber legs and was trying out for life time membership to the Ministry of Silly Walks. Zack would most likely been able to walk a semi straight line, if he hadn't been too busy giggling and staring at Cloud.

Cloud's head had turned into a balloon. It was big, and bright yellow, and it had his face drawn on it in black marker. The drawing was crude, nothing more than a collection of simple lines, yet it looked exactly like Cloud, down to the line doing duty as the mouth matching his familiar frown. The balloon bobbled and jinked as he walked, trailing a few inches behind him from the string that disappeared into the neck of his shirt. His head bounced a bit on its string as Cloud stopped to readjust his grip on Zack.

Zack stifled a laugh, reached up, and slowly batted Cloud's head, watching it drift sideways, then back.

"Please stop."

Zack sniggered and did it again. Repeatedly

"Can you..? Hey...knock it off--! Stop that...hey--!" Cloud stammered, trying to fend off the playful slaps as his head bobbed frantically. He lost his grip on Zack, who slid to the floor with a whoop.

The sketch of his face frowned down at Zack. "What was all that about?" he asked as his head slowly rotated 360 degrees on his string neck. Zack looked at him with glassy, dilated eyes and exclaimed as if sharing a private joke, "Dude, your head!"

Cloud gave him a patient look, reminding himself that Zack was still high on sedatives and anesthesia. Nothing he said was going to make any kind of sense. Cloud heaved him to his feet and continued lugging him down the hall.

Zack forgot about Cloud's balloon head as he concentrated on trying to walk. His legs had turned into rubber bands, and he was having a hard time keeping them coordinated. His left leg kept stretching out really far ahead, while his right stretched out and back in random directions every two seconds.

Navigating the waiting room was a nightmare. Zack's legs kept getting tangled in random chair legs, and trying to snap anyone who walked by. This meant that Zack was really unstable and kept almost falling on his face. It was then that he had an Idea. Unfortunately, it was one of those Ideas that only seem good because you are drunk. It was a Drunk Idea. His brain cells gathered together, still marinating in chemical bliss, and started bouncing ideas around.

Hey guys, listen...it's the legs...Yeah, the legs! It's all down to the legs!

So?

So it takes two to walk, right?

Yeah, but we keep falling.

Yeah...

so if we get rid of the legs, we won't fall?

Yeah! No! No, then we can't walk!

But we also can't fall...

True...But, wait, wait! If we keep falling with two legs, then how about we add more legs?

More? That's a stupid idea!

No, guys, listen. listen! Like what if ... What if we had four legs instead of two?

Why four?

Well, tables have four legs. Have you ever seen a table fall down?

No, but we've never seen a table walk either.

Yeah, but we've never seen one fall. And do you know why?

No.

Because...because tables are stable!

Hey, that rhymes!

Tables are stable!

Okay, four legs it is!

The Idea made perfect sense, so Zack Shifted.

Cloud abruptly found himself trying to hold on to a giant black wolf with four spaghetti legs. While four legs did lend certain amount of increased stability, it also meant that the Brain had more legs to sort out and keep coordinated.

Zack managed to stand perfectly balanced for all of five seconds, before he attempted to take a step and did a frantic, high-speed impression of Bambi on ice. Cloud tried to grab him, missed, and could only watch helplessly as Hurricane Zack stuck.

Legs went everywhere as he skittered and slipped wildly across the waiting room, crashing through rows of chairs, skidding back and forth across the room like a furry rocket, tossing furniture in all directions, obliterating the activity center, knocking over the sign reading "No Running" and doing a perfect drift through the magazine rack before his front legs went out from under him and he slid into the hallway carpet on his face.

Cloud looked at the swath of destruction, then looked at the nurse who was just a pair of terrified eyes barely peeking over the edge of her station desk. He stood absolutely still for a moment, just in case the earth was going to be kind enough to oblige and open up and swallow him.

Yeah, I'm going to have to pass.

But I saved you! Twice!

The best I can do is a little crack, maybe big enough for a foot.

Forget it. See if I ever save you again.

Cloud called down to Maintenance to come clean up as he picked his way through the rubble and grabbed Zack, who was standing in the hallway leading to the Lobby, barking at his reflection in the big glass windows.

"Hey!Hey! Hey, you!" Zack barked at the big black wolf on the other side of the window. "Hey! I see you! Hey! Hey!" Cloud's balloon head bobbed up behind the other wolf like a yellow harvest moon rising.

"Moon! Moon! Moon, moon, moon!" He turned and looked at Cloud as he grabbed a handful of his fur to stop him from running off. Zack looked at the yellow, frowning balloon and howled, "Moon, moon, moo-oooooooooonnnn!"

"Shhhhhh! Stop that!" Cloud hissed at him in ELITE. "Let's go home. Come on." He began tugging him down the hallway towards the Lobby.

Zack seemed to have gained enough coordination to allow him to walk, or at least stumble around without falling. He was quite proud of himself. The sun was shining brightly through the window, looking pretty fly in its black sunglasses as it waved merrily. It's bright rays fell on the smiling tulips lining the hallway, swaying from side to side in peppy rhythm as they sang, while birds in snappy top hats chased away rain clouds and threw confetti. Zack started prancing and singing along.

Cloud winced as one of Zack's giant doggo clod-hoppers landed on his foot. He did his best to keep his feet out of the way as Zack pranced along beside him like a drunk spider tap-dancing on a trampoline and singing 'Tiptoe through the Tulips'.

As they neared the Lobby, Cloud began to realize that there was no way he was going to drag Hecking High Zack from the Main Building, all the way to the parking lot. They made to the Lobby, and Cloud pulled Zack over to one of the clusters of comfy looking chairs. He looked at Zack and said sternly in ELITE,

"Sit!"

Years of ingrained military training planted Zack's fluffy butt on the carpet without even asking his brain for permission.

"Stay!" Cloud added as Zack rolled his head and looked at him upside down with his tongue hanging out.

"Good Moon Moon!"

Zack watched as Cloud trotted away to the Reception Desk to arrange for a car, balloon head being towed jerkily behind him. The lights in the Lobby were bright, shining down from neat rows, while the chairs in front of him were lined up, marching into the distance. He thought he heard the quiet susurration of a large crowd waiting in anticipation. More lights suddenly snapped on, and from the orchestra pit below the stage, a familiar ragtime tune began to play. Someone tossed him a top hat and fancy cane, and Zack rose to his hind legs as a hush fell over the crowd...

"The car will be here shortly, General" The receptionist said, hanging up the phone. "Lieutenant Haskins said it should be about five minutes and...um," she trailed off. Cloud looked at her for a few moments waiting for her to give him the rest of the details. She kept looking at him, then glancing at something to his left.

The skin on the back of his skull tingled, bunching up as if trying to physically turn his head itself. His other senses got in on the action and started drawing his attention to other small signs that something was off.

There were more people than usual hanging about. Sure, the Lobby was rarely empty, but the people who came in were usually just passing through, moving purposefully, not hesitantly passing by, or outright loitering alone or in groups. And they definitely didn't stand around with their phones out as if recording something. And there was a song playing, but as far as Cloud knew, there was no radio in the Lobby...

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, and steeling himself for what he might see. He turned, and was gut punched by the same feeling a parent gets when they turn around to see that their toddler has discarded their clothes and is doing a buck-naked impromptu performance of The Nutcracker in the middle of the grocery store.

Some idiot was two verses in to 'Hello! Ma Baby!' and Zack, tongue lolling in a wolf grin was Michigan J. Frogging his way back and forth across the seating area.

Cloud hid his face in his hands.

Are you sure you can't just swallow me?

Sorry, pal. No can do.

"Go about your business!" Cloud snarled at the assembly. "And you, Bill Roberts*," Cloud said pointing at PFC Eugene Perkins, the one who had been singing, "You get double Fire Watch duty for a week!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Perkins said with a disheartened salute.

"If you get that video to my desk in the next fifteen minutes, I'll knock it down to two days." Cloud said as he snatched Zack by the scruff before he could make another pass.

"Sir, yes, sir!" came the grateful reply.

"Come on, Moon Moon!" Cloud said, dragging Zack to the Lobby door just as the car pulled up.

To Be Continued.

*Bill Roberts - provided the original vocals for Michigan J. Frog in “One Froggy Evening"

#final fantasy 7 fanfic #final fantasy vii fanfic #cloud strife #zack fair #clack #if you squint #zack x cloud #ff7 fanfic #ffvii fanfic #final fantasy 7 fanfiction #final fantasy vii fanfiction

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babybluebanshee · 5 years

Text

Another post about stuff I’ve had to deal with as a city librarian

More of this, because humanity continues to vex and confuse me.

- My coworker Julie noticed that one of our meeting rooms was unlocked (it’d been so busy at the desk that day, no one had been able to go back and check on it), and when she went in, the place was a complete disaster. Chairs were overturned, all the drawers were open, slurs were written on the window in sharpie, and, the crowner, a giant dick was drawn on the whiteboard. It took us an hour to get everything back the way it should have been. We were eternally grateful that no other groups had used the room after that first one, because it had been that way for hours before we noticed.

- We found a tiny hammer by a computer. It was probably about the size of my pinky. No one ever came in to claim it. As far as I know, it’s still in our lost and found.

- I was checking the phone messages one morning, and we had one from an incredibly irate woman, yelling about how she tried calling us four times that day, and no one ever picked up, we should be ashamed of the way we treat people, we were a disgrace, etc. I listened to it again, to see when she’d called, and realized she’d called on the fourth of July. As in, a day we were closed. When no one was in the building to pick up the phone. I had to put the phone down and laugh.

- A boy of about thirteen years old came in to return some DVDs, which he upfront told me were overdue. Patrons can check out our DVDs for one week (as opposed to the three weeks we let them have books), and if they’re overdue, they’re a dollar a day as opposed to fifteen cents (DVDs are expensive and way more likely to get stolen). The kid had managed to wrack up about sixteen dollars in fines, and when I told him how much he owed, he flipped out. He was swearing and slamming his hands on the desk, saying we’d told him that they weren’t due for three weeks and now he was going to have to pay for them from his allowance, but it was our fault because we told him the wrong day. And then when I told him that he had to get his fines below fifteen dollars in order to check out more stuff, he yelled how that was stupid and stomped out. I vaguely remember wondering throughout the entire ordeal where his parents were. And yes, I was slightly worried for my safety, because he was an angry teenage white boy being told he couldn’t have something. I think we all are familiar with what that can lead too...

- A lady went into one of our study rooms with a tote bag, and proceeded to pull out a bucket of chicken, a thing of mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, and biscuits. My coworker Karen went over and asked what she was doing, and she said, her mouth full of chicken, “Oh, I thought we could have food in here.”

- Julie found a literal pile of shit in the kids’ area. We have no idea how that happened, but we all hope it was just a kid having an accident. It’s best for all our sanity.

- A woman came in and was behaving very oddly. Her speech was slurred, she stumbled like she was drunk, her face was slack, and when Bonnie went over to talk to her, she couldn’t remember the date or why she was at the library. We tried to convince her to let us call her an ambulance, and she said no, she didn’t need one. She stumbled back out before we could ask the director what to do. We were pretty sure she was having a stroke.

- We found a needle in the YA area. Not for drugs or anything, but rather one people use to give each other tattoos in prison. It was homemade too. You could even tell where the needle had been glued to the handle.

- Do you guys remember that lady I mentioned in the very first post that smells awful? Well, things have been escalating with her, to the point where my boss is actually looking to institute a new policy about offensive smells. It is just that bad. The smell has been lingering on everything she’s checked out, even after weeks of us deep cleaning it. There’s been dirt and squashed gnats and, recently, a live spider in her stuff for well over two months now. We’ve had to damage out about $150 worth of books because of her.

- There are a staggering number of people who believe that we should catalog our books by genre, as opposed to by fiction and non-fiction. Like in a bookstore. Or by subject, which always tickles me because that IS how non-fiction is cataloged in the Dewey decimal system, but our patrons won’t go to the OPAC and figure out the call number. One woman (incidentally, the smelly lady) went on a rant about how Melville Dewey didn’t know what he was doing, that cataloging books was “women’s work” (???) he had no business trying to do, and that it’d be easier if we did it exactly the way she thought we should. When the shelver was going to put back some knitting books the lady didn’t want, she snidely said, “Good luck figuring out where they go.” I wanted to tell her it wasn’t hard for us because we could, ya know, actually look at the spine and figure it out. The was, like, part of our jobs and stuff.

- A man of about thirty came in with his elderly parents and basically acted like a giant manchild the entire time. He bossed his parents around like a toddler - ordering mom out to the car to get his ID, berating her when she said it wasn’t there because she was supposed to have grabbed it for him, yelling at his dad because he forgot to the son’s phone charger. The topper was when he basically bullied his mom into getting a card so he could get on the internet for free (his card was expired and his dad’s had too many fines), all the while saying it was “her fault” for not remembering his stuff for him and calling her all sorts of names. When I finished making the mom’s card, he didn’t even let her take it from me. He snatched it from my hand and stomped over to the computer. Reminder, this guys was at least thirty years old. I wanted to wring his entitled little neck.

#daily life with blue #woe to the librarian #rant #words

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baekibi · 5 years

Text

Jaehyun | Cherry Tree

Words: 2138

Written: a while ago lol

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff

➺

It was another of those boring days;

- you know those days where the only source of entertainment is drawing on your hand in black ink and conversing in sign language to your pals over at the other end of the classroom,, one of those days.

This day like any other was not passing very quickly, the heavy atmosphere of stressed and angsty teenagers was unpleasant and the temperature was above boiling, my head felt as if it was melting under the pressure of math.

I prayed the lesson would tick by swiftly, my pencil gripped tightly in my fist, my eyes swaying from the teacher to the clock, teacher to the clock, teacher to the- *brrr, brrr*

crap.

The familiar ring escaped my backpack, the sound whirring around the class making a public humiliation of myself. Eyes grasped shut, i gritted my teeth and bit my lip as silence struck through the whole room, even catching the teacher off guard completely.

I could feel the hundred eyes focused on me at this moment, including those of the piercing glare my teacher produced. "Kim Kyungha". The echo of his voice harpooned in my direction. The fear of opening my eyes now was a level I'd never felt, however I knew it was the only option I could take.

"I-I apologise, s-sir" I stuttered, trembling in my seat, my feet making rhythms as they tapped nervously on the ground below.

"Detention tonight, 5000 sentences." His sharp spoken words cut straight through me.

ugh. Second detention this week because I forgot to turn my phone off.

The first was for being two minutes late; but that was only a short 30 minutes detention now adding another... however long it will take to write that much.

I was used to detentions but never because I was particularly disruptive or a bad student~ usually just due to coincidences like my phone ringing during class or something as small as forgetting that one piece of homework. I usually used the time to continue some extra work which was handy but knowing it was detention seemed to make it more tense.

I reached inside my bag and almost crushed my phone with the rage that slowly brewed in my body, I took a peak at who had called to see it was my best friend Jaehyun.

One thing, he's in the same. Class.

And you know what's coincidental? He. Also. Has. A. Detention. Tonight.

I wanted to scream. I could see his plan from this moment, but the one question in my mind of wether or not I should snitch on him was the only thing that stopped me from letting go of my voice.

Instead I turned my back, where Jaehyun was sitting and sent him a glare of defeat and hurt to which he just giggled.

It was finally the end of the day, I walked over to my locker with Jaehyun who's was right next to my own. His arm was now bruised to a purple colour from my fist meeting his flesh at least ten times in the past thirty minutes for what he did during math.

He leant onto his locker next to mine, and faced me with a smirk. I carefully opened my locker, still eyeing on him. Once the door fully opened a few papers which I'd never saw before fell onto the floor below.

"You still haven't found out who's sending you those letters, have you?" He sighed, watching me gather them.

"What they said this time, eh?"

I mumbled to myself, flicking through the scattered sheets in my hand.

"Oh this is a new one" I hold it up to Jaehyun, displaying a really badly drawn kitten holding a piece of paper which read,

"You're perfect n cute n adorable n you mean so much to me. Don't ever let anyone tell you any different bc you're cute and deserve the world. I know you may be sick of these letters but think of it as a spark of confidence and support for your day and the challenges you decide to take. I hope you'll find out who sent you these letters one day and accept me, as I accept you. But for now I'll remain your secret admirer and as long as it doesn't scare you I'm happy to hide behind my messages to you. Have a nice day. Hope we can talk soon. xx"

I read it out clearly, Jaehyun following my finger along the paper as I drew strokes guiding me along each line.

I have to admit, the letters were cute and the badly drawn cat was even cuter. I wouldn't say they creep me out because it has never been anything scary or remarkably insane written on the papers like it's a stalker graphically describing how he or she is going to climb into my window and watch me as they order me to suck to their toes.

...like that would ever happen anyway...

"Well, does it ever weird you out?" He asked, sounding muffled in his tone.

I shook my head quickly, a smile even crossing my face as I recited the words on the note. It was quite encouraging actually.

"Well we got detention now, so hurry idiot" he straight up said beginning to walk, sliding his palms into his tailored trousers. His head turned to me as he walked, gently resting on his shoulder as he hurried me with his glances.

I ran after him willingly.

I turned my phone on silent, but not don't disturb so I would still receive calls but instead they'd be a small buzz which the teacher wouldn't be able to hear.

It was just me and Jaehyun in the After school detention which I assumed is why he got me in trouble, so I could join him.

Just after spending approximately ten minutes in the detention classroom, I could feel a vibration at my feet which were leaning against my bag. Whilst the teacher wasn't looking I faked dropping my pen so I had the perfect excuse to bend down to look at my phone.

"Sir, can I please go to the restroom?" I heard the familiar voice of Jaehyuns speak abruptly, raising his hand.

"Sure. But be quick. You have five minutes."

Jaehyun stood and walked passed me, nudging my shoulder as he walked signalling me that he was obviously up to something.

I continued for my phone, noticing a message left by him. He must have did the same thing as me, to get to his phone.

Jaebunny

I'll get us out of here ;)

Kyungha

Jae I stg DONT you dare-

Seen ✔

I sighed at this moment, whatever Jaehyun was up to, I wasn't looking forward to it.

Jaebunny

I'll be back in a minute, sir will be leaving the classroom in a second too, once he leaves I want you to run over to his desk and grab the keys.

Kyungha

Excuse me?

Jaebunny

Sweetie cakes just do as you're told

Seen ✔

It had been about a minute since I'd left the chat, just as Jaehyun told me sir took a call and was immediately needed at the heads office.

"Kyungha, I'll have to leave you here alone for five minutes. Don't dare move and wait till I come back." He said as he stood nearing the door.

As he left the door slammed, I sensed whatever Jaehyun did was not good.

I could hear his screams in the hall as I assumed he ran into Jaehyun.

The muffled conversation was only just loud enough for me to make out, it's either this school has incredibly thin walls or Jaehyun is really being screamed at.

However I did what Jaehyun said to do, although my mind was hesitant my body seemed to take control.

I searched his desk and picked up the keys, as if perfect Jaehyun walked in at this exact moment.

"What the heck are you doing?" I shouted at him, to which he quickly shushed me, placing his hand on my lips.

He swiped the keys from my hand and locked the classroom door. Continuing over to the window, as he passed, grabbing my hand to take me with him.

"Come on." He guided me over, opened the window wide enough and edged me to jump out. Throwing the keys at the floor, he insisted I got out first. Luckily the classroom was on the first floor so it wasn't a long drop. For some reason I seemed to obey him. My hands moved on their own, gripping the sides of the window frame and launching myself over quickly followed by Jaehyun who shut the window on his way back.

"Why are we doing this? Can't we just ride out the detention? What did you do? Why has-" the questions flew out of me, making Jaehyun get slightly aggressive. He pushed me to the wall and clasped my mouth completely shut as he pressed his lips onto mine. A moment of silence fell upon us.

He was quick to move after he disconnected his plump flesh from mine. He looked straight into my eyes, I was now heavily breathing, my mouth dropping.

He reconnected his hand to mine and ran quickly in a direction I'd never gone before.

"What was that about?" I question out of the blue as we finally stop under a row of cherry blossom trees.

He didn't say a word but rather pinned me gently against the tree and repeated the kiss again, this time going deeper and lasting longer. I was shocked but I didn't want it to stop, something inside me clicked, I wanted this to happen and felt it had to. I began to participate in giving, making the kiss more heated and passionate. I could feel it making him happy as he smiled in between exchanges of tongue. His hands made their way from the tree to my waist, he held me tightly as I began to play with his hair.

But my questions hadn't changed. I was still curious and confused. So I stopped.

His face was now full of shock and disappointment that I had pulled back so soon.

"I still have my questions." I smirked.

"L-look I- I'm sorry something just came over me-" Jaehyun attempted to apologise. As much as I wanted to shut him up and kiss him again I had questions to ask.

"Why?"

"I- I don't know."

"You were the one sending me those letters weren't you?" I smiled, my hands still resting on his shoulders.

He slowly shook his head, now looking embarrassed at the grass beneath us.

I felt something crawl up my back, assuming it was Jaehyuns hand to which I soon found was a spider which had made its way from the tree, to me.

I jumped in shock, almost screaming as it stood on my shoulder. I dead ass karate chop the little shit off my shoulder, and continue by flailing my arms all over to assure it was off of me now.

"You okay?"

I was suddenly snapped back into reality. Remembering what the heck I was doing here and why.

"No. Don't ask me questions."

My statement didn't make any sense, making Jaehyun raise a brow.

"What exactly did you tell the principal?”

I asked, puzzled.

"Remember when He lashed out on our class mate yesterday during our exam?"

I nod. "Yeah and almost broke the poor kids phone?"

"I videoed it and showed it to the principal"

He confessed, now having the biggest grin on his face.

"He deserves it, people like him shouldn't be teaching."

We spoke a little more about what was going to happen when they go to school the next week, most likely they'd get even more detentions but at this point they didn't care.

"So how was it?" Jaehyun asked as he was about to let me go to my bus stop.

I glance quizzically. "How was what?"

He answered my question by kissing me on the cheek. To which I answered with a shrug.

"I-it wasn't good?" He said, stuttering as if he'd just been heart broken completely.

"I didn't say it was bad. Just next time don't do it after we've just escaped a building and possibly ruined someone's career." I say to which he nods agreeing,

"So... next time? Jaehyun inched.

"Next time. We'll go on a date and you'll kiss me in a proper place and ask me things properly."

"So its a date? Tomorrow. 12am. Be ready. Sweetie cakes." Jaehyun declared, passing me a grin flirtatiously.

I gently slapped his shoulder and continued to my bus stop as he watched. Giggling on the way home, I couldn't stop thinking about what just happened and I assumed neither could he.

➺

oof

Master list

#jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun fluff #fluff #jung jaehyun #woojae #jung yoonoh #yoonoh #nct #nct jaehyun #nct fluff #kpop #nct 127 #nct u

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