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#*pretend this is that meme with all the people in a room and the guy standing in the corner* they have no idea I want to die rn
bestial4ngel · 3 months
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Trying to force myself to get out of The Misery so I can drag myself to my psych exam on time and then go socialize with people for hours after at a (book) club thing :(
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calware · 8 months
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Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious
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1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)
i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]
plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes
minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real
this post
i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo
2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.
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he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read
3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)
4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:
you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot
5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been
6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot
7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy
8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this
9. the Important part of this post:
THERES FEELINGS.
it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or
10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!
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cherryredstars · 4 months
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Mike Schmidt, Hobie Brown, Miles-42 x gn!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content with Miguel, A Little Bit of Angst with Miles
Summary: How would the boys treat you on your birthday?
A/N: In honor of my birthday (WOO)!
Word Count: 1.7K (Unedited)
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Miguel O'Hara
You hang out with him in his office at HQ all day. He has your favorite food delivered to base, and you spend the whole day talking his ear off as he works. Today is the only day he doesn't mind people coming in and out of his office, as long as they do so to wish you a happy birthday.
He has LYLA keep you company, finding her only a tad bit less annoying, even as she randomly breaks out into happy birthday and makes birthday memes pop up on his screen like a virus. He only wants to strangle her when she keeps making birthday sex jokes and hinting a little too much at the gifts waiting for you at home.
When the two of you do make it home, you're excited to see the pile of gifts overflowing in the living room. Some of them are from the spiders in HQ, but more than one is from Miguel. You guys get take out, and spend the rest of the night opening gifts. You guys laugh at the ones from the younger spider-people, and try not to cringe at the more questionable ones (a difference in universe maybe?).
When the two of you finish going through the gifts and ate all the food, Miguel pulls you up off the floor. He gives you a cheeky smile, leading you towards the bedroom for one last birthday present. Huh, I guess LYLA was right about the birthday sex.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
As much as he wants to, he can't ask to go on leave in advance. Even if he did send in the request, it would be hastily denied. Going on leave because of a singular day and for a non-emergency cause? The higher ups would laugh in his face. So, his only hope is to not be deployed during that time.
If he is deployed during that time, he'll keep his eye on the clock, counting down the seconds until it hits midnight in your timezone. Then, at exactly zero hundred hours, your phone will light up with a message from Simon. It's a simple "Happy birthday. Miss you." text, but it makes you smile nonetheless. If you're lucky, you might get a voice message from all of 141 wishing you a happy birthday, horrible, off-key singing from Soap included! And if you're really lucky, you might even get a call if Simon's in a good, secure location where he knows his cellular usage can't be tracked or intercepted.
He already got a gift for you in advance. He'll tell you where he hid it, or tell you to keep an ear out for the doorbell. If he hid it, you rush over to the hiding spot, setting your phone up to record a video for him. You make a big show of it to keep him entertained, and at the end of the video you thank him repeatedly for the gift, adding in that you miss him and you'll see him when he comes back home. When he gets gifts delivered to you, it's usually flowers and maybe something extra like an Amazon package. You put your new flowers in the nicest vase you have, sending Simon a picture and heart emojis.
If-by the grace of god- he's home on your birthday, you get spoiled silly. Today is all about you and what you want to do. Breakfast in bed? Okay, waffles or pancakes? Movie night? Okay, it's your pick. Drinks at the pub? Let's stop to get a pack first. Simon does prefer to stay in with you on your birthday, but again, if you want to have a night out on the town, he's happy to follow along. Though, if you do stay home, don't look in the fridge! You don't want to risk taking a peak at the cake he bought, do you?
Mike Schmidt
Called out of work the day before. He wakes up super early, slipping out of bed to wake up Abby. She complains a little, and you have to pretend you weren't awake the second Mike got out of bed and you have to stifle your laughter at her grumbling out in the hall. The smell of breakfast is strong, and you wait a good 11 minutes (it would be too perfect if it was an even number), before slipping out of bed. You act all surprised when you walk into the kitchen, catching them making you breakfast. They instantly drag you into a chair, making you sit as they plate your food and slide over your coffee. You have to fight your tears when Abby gives you a hand drawn birthday card. Just for that, she can steal a bit of your bacon.
The three of you just spend the day at home. You draw with Abby, thanking her for all the birthday drawings. The three of you make a mess in the kitchen as you make the birthday cake, and somehow frosting gets stuck in all of your hair. You sing happy birthday after dinner, which of course is your favorite meal, and the three of you settle onto the couch to watch TV. You allow Abby to stay up until she falls asleep on the sofa.
Once she's gone to bed, Mike pulls you close to his side, pressing a kiss to your lips and muttering another happy birthday. You smile at him, and it grows wider when he pulls your gift from his pocket. The two of you are silent as you open it, and you gasp when you see what's inside. You thank him with a million smooches on his face, that makes him chuckle. Then, when it gets too late and the both of you remember he has work tomorrow, you retreat back to the bedroom for some much needed rest. Clean up is for another day.
Hobie Brown
Is it really a surprise that he forgets it's your birthday? Hey, in his defense, time and dates are just a social construct made to control the natural world!
He only remembers when one of his (current) band mates or a Spider in the society ask him what he has planned for your birthday. He knows he's fucked the second they ask him. He has nothing planned, he has yet to say happy birthday to you despite talking to you just this morning, and to top it all off, he has only just realized you were hinting about it throughout your morning conversation. And do you want to know what he said in response to your, Hobie, baby, do you think something important is happening today? Trust me, you don't because his answer may or may not have been, Unless 10 Downing is fist bumping a wrecking ball today, then no. Yeah, did he mention he was fucked?
So, in true Hobie fashion, he's gonna think quick and get himself out of trouble. What could he use as the perfect excuse for completely forgetting your birthday? Make it seem intentional! And how do you make it seem intentional? Throwing a totally killer surprise party that would give the PM a heart attack! He recruits the help of his band mates and Gwen, setting up your favorite venue that the band played in for a previous gig. He gets you a cake, a funny card, and some random trinkets he sees along the way. He'll have the band play anything you request or the night. Oh, don't forget your own friends! He'll let them know before he picks you up.
He's totally casual when he returns to the flat, all nonchalant as he tells you to get dressed up. When you ask why, he just shrugs and says riot. You stare at him like you expect him to say something extra, but you sigh when he doesn't. With your back turned to him, he allows himself to briefly flicker red. When he gets you to the venue, you're happily surprised, bumping into him and teasing that you thought he forgot. He chuckles nervously in response, finally wishing you a happy birthday. At the end of the night, after you got the celebration you deserved and the two of you lay at home in a half-awake state, he admits the truth to you when you're too sleepy to get mad at him. Hey, real men admit to their mistakes and fear the wrath of their partners.
Miles 42
He does the thing. You know, the obnoxious thing where you show up to school, and then suddenly you have a brightly colored birthday stash over your shoulder and a gift bag attached to 50 different HAPPY BIRTHDAY balloons? Yeah, he does that shit, and he does it with PRIDE. He will be damned if you aren't walking the halls and a stranger randomly yells out a birthday greeting to you in passing. You better hope you don't have any classes with him, because every class you guys share, he's making them sing happy birthday. Even if you get embarrassed and melt into your chair. At lunch, he's already got a birthday cupcake waiting for you and he did, in fact, skip the last period just so he could go get your favorite takeout to make sure it's still hot.
Rio definitely invited you over for dinner, and he spends the whole meal telling his Ma all about the things he did for you today. It makes her laugh, and she playfully swats the back of his head when you whine about how embarrassed you were all day.
When dinner is done, Miles drags you out of his house and walks you down to the familiar streets to the car lot. He helps you in, and you gasp when you see the inside of the car. He has candles placed carefully around, and a cake sits in the back seat with plastic forks and more gifts. Your smile is goofy as he quietly sings happy birthday to you, and you blow out the candle as he whoops and hollers playfully. The two of you dig into the cake, having quiet conversation until you feel like you'll throw up from all the sugar.
But as you're about to open the last of your gifts, his phone begins to ring. Looks like your birthday wish didn’t come true after all.
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lizaluvsthis · 2 months
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SMG4: Trash Friends
Shit. Hello guys- I stole my phone and it is currently 4 am and I posted this (Because it's scheduled on queue)
I'm still not here but I managed to grab the phone out of the room, I can post for a bit. But then again, I wont be catching up to stuff while I'm at it.
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Okay so- this video is about SMG4 needing that usb where michael jordan is n stuff to become popular.
SMG3 is needing that one to become popular as well so that his shop would be flooded by customers.
And then where it comes to needing stuff, they'd do literally anything for their 'friends' to get it.
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SMG3 lied to him saying the business is running good, he just didnt want to face the problem in front of the protagonist that he's going downhill with running the business.
"I'm finally gonna get the attention I deserve, and prove to everyone YOU'RE THE WORST VERSION OF ME!"
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This? This was his thoughts. This is how it speaks for him that is why he was afraid to show that to him.
After SMG3 told Mario he needs that usb for Fame and Love because SMG4 has too much of that. He knew how much important it is to him. He wanted the same love like how SMG4 has, he'd never had all the attention like how SMG4 had too. He was lost of himself.
Mario being the gullible idiotic man he is, he never complained to three about his speak of truth, he had comforted his friends especially meggy. Mario figured that Three had exposed his inner emotions, the most that he can do is just vomit that sh-t out.
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Right after Three hid Mario from his hat, turns out he really does need shampoo. I mightve noticed that he'd been staying up late at night and doesn't shower because of his bad habits.
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Sometimes depressed people mostly forgot to shower and just cope sh-ts to themselves like curling up to the bed and wallow in sorrow. And mostly they just hide that feeling. And I guess you might've noticed SMG4 did. Thats the reason why he searched that up from the internet.
He was THIS obviously close to reveal he had been concerned about Three because he stinks.
When SMG4 told three what the matter was, since the only thing he knew from him is that his business is doing fine. SMG4 thought that three wanted that fame all to himself, being the selfish one he knew back then.
After four told him "you're being selfish! All you ever think about is yourself! JUST. LET. GO!" the soft spot where SMG3 got his by the heart because of it.
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He never wanted to go back to being how he wanted to be. He never wanted to show that whole destruction thing again from his ecil doings. This was the rrason why he ever wanted to change into a better person.
"OKAY!" "Okay...?" SMG4 noticed where Three easily surrendered himself, letting his guard down due to his anger.
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He opened up.
"YEAH! I dont know what I was thinking! I'm doing fine! My shop is ALWAYS flooded with customers, I'm SO successful. Nobody is EVER throwing my coupons in garbage.
AND I DEFINITELY DON'T FEEL LIKE THE WORST VERSION OF YOU THAT LIKES TO PRETEND HE'S DOING FINE!"
HE said that to himself. When he thought he'd be the worst ever version of him, because he was supposed to be an antagonist. He was supposed to be SMG4's enemy, but he was also supposed to be partners with Four because they were both meme guardians.
SMG4 didn't knew. He always didnt know all of SMG3's antics because he thought Three also had everything to himself. But he didn't know he also felt like this, like Trash.
SO THIS GOES ON WITH THE MORAL. SMG4 noticing it just now is that he felt like TRASH. Because last time he'd ever notice is just Three wanting attention of how the golden child (aka SMG4) is when he gains that love and joy with everyone from meme warts.
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Yet Three is there saying that to himself. He was there being open to Four and to Mario that he is struggling as well. His whole life, his financial issues, everything that meant to him. He popped the balloon and spoke the truth.
Four picked up the coupon, he was sad about this when he had finally just realized the whole sh-t of things. Sure four has done alot of wrong things but this? This is sick to his guts feeling bad for three...
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Four looked at mario because he knows how valuable of a friend Mario is when dealing with emotions and open ups. And so- he got to the talk with three.
With all thats settled, SMG3 came back and fist bumbs Four to know that he's good now. What I also didn't expect is that three after using the usb, Four didn't even stop him. He looks at three with those softened eyes and just. Wow.
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Four really wanted to show three his kindness, he was soft on him so he gave him a chance. He wanted three to be happy too.
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yuri-is-online · 1 year
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Well Maybe the Octopus was Being a Dick! (Or Tsunotarou tries to do Yu a solid but he misunderstood a joke) pt. 2
A/N: Left some boys out of part one so have some more crack
Pt. 1
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“Refuses to take responsibility for this”- Idia
He’s too busy screaming to listen to what Malleus is saying because he’s too busy trying to figure out how he got into his room.  Malleus thinks that Idia is just suffering from some nerves and offers to pretend to be the child of man so he can practice… fighting fish for the prefect’s affection?  Outright refuses but it just comes off as him being too shy again, aaaand now he’s somehow been dragged to an aquarium on a practice date with Malleus who keeps insisting his childlike wonder is just him pretending to be the prefect.  At least Ortho is having the time of his life.  Maybe he can just convince you to come over and play some VR, he really needs to decompress after this.
“Wait don’t ask another guy I’ll do it”- Ace, Deuce, Kalim
Duece and Kalim both take what Malleus is saying extremely seriously and are equally distraught.  Deuce wants to be with you as the best possible version of himself, and that means putting his violent past behind him.  He did just learn how to make mackerel curry though, so maybe that counts?  He can practice fileting fish and hope you think the effort is cute.  Kalim really likes animals so the thought of hurting fish isn’t… ideal but hey maybe he just misheard Malleus and you just really like aquariums.  Yeah that’s got to be it!  There’s absolutely no way Malleus of all people could have misunderstood things in the first place, he’s too smart for that.  Ace sees this as a GOLDEN opportunity to make fun of you and the two of you have a bit of fun clowning around until you make the mistake of whining about how he wouldn’t fight one measly fish and he responds by saying he’d take a bullet for you with zero hesitation and completely seriously. 
Yeah it’s going to take a while for you both to reset after this one. 
“That’s a magicam moment babe”- Cater, Jamil
Both of these guys pay enough attention to trends to have at least an idea that Malleus might be taking a meme literally.  Cater thinks it’s a cute joke he can make a magicam post about, and it gives him an excuse to flirt with juuust enough plausible deniability he can save himself if it proves too embarrassing.  Jamil simply says he doesn’t need to rely on fleeting internet trends to win your affection.  Aquariums are a nice place for a date though so he thanks Malleus for the idea.
“PLEASE ask him to kill for you”- Epel, Lilia
Epel absolutely has a list of wild animals he could protect the prefect from and you can’t convince me otherwise.  He’s a bit iffy on where he ranks fish after meeting the Leech twins, but as long as your favorite isn’t an eel he is rip raring to go, just ignore that weird shadow in your peripheral vision that definitely isn’t Vil waiting to swoop.  Lilia is, obviously, aware that Malleus is misinterpreting a joke.  He’s just really attached to the image of you hanging off of him like the protagonist on the front cover of a really steamy romance novel while he fights off a salmon or something.  He has one of those open chested pirate shirts allll ready to go just say the word. 
“IF WAKA-SAMA SAID IT, IT MUST BE TRUE”- SEBEK, Silver
“Silver?”  I hear you ask in disbelief.  Yes.  He was raised by Lilia in the middle of the woods and his main source of interaction with humans before attending NRC was apparently just Sebek’s dad.  He thinks very highly of Malleus and doesn’t think he’d be lying, but he assumes given how much animals like him it’s you who intend to do the fighting so he shows up to Ramshackle to assure you that isn’t necessary.  You already have his affections.
You know damn well Sebek is climbing into that tank the instant you say something about liking one of the fish.  Malleus gave him instructions on how to court you and he will be cold and dead in his grave before he disobeys a direct order from his lord.  Also refuses to believe you when you say Malleus misunderstood even after his Lord apologizes for accidentally getting him banned from the aquarium for life.  For the sake of Malleus’s pride or his you have no idea.
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tripleyeeet · 10 months
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IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, MAYBE (2)
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SUMMARY: It's always been hard being the sibling of a superhero. Lately though, it feels next to impossible.
PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,136
WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent, descriptions of a panic attack/dissociate behaviours, inappropriate use of medication/alcohol consumption.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, first of all, the amount of love I've received from this fic has been insane??? Like, y'all really knocked it out of the park, both here and on AO3 and I'm absolutely astounded? Thank you so much! You guys have literally motivated me so much so hopefully this chapter lives up to the hype of the first? :)
CHAPTER LIST / LAST CHAPTER / MASTERLIST
-
“God, I am never drinking again.” 
You stumble into the living room with your hands against your eyes, palming the sockets roughly. It’s morning, maybe even early afternoon, and already the sun is pushing through the blinds, coating the apartment in enough light that it makes you squint. On the couch Miguel grumbles under the covers as you walk by, pulling the fabric over his head as he readjusts his position, directing himself away. 
You’re surprised to see him there but say nothing, opting to wander into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, noticing a fresh sticky note on the fridge: Call me when you’re up —Pete!
Hm, he must’ve gone over to MJ’s for the night.
Peeling the note away, you continue your trek for hydration, grabbing a glass that you fill and chug down twice before feeling satisfied enough to continue. Or at least, enough to survive considering just how sore you are. From your knees down you can feel the leftover aches from walking home; the many miles you’d managed to travel in your drunken state now heavy on your mind. There are at least one or two blisters on each foot thanks to your poor choice of footwear while the muscles surrounding your shins feel like they might actually be burning through your flesh.  
As you walk back through the living room you try not to groan at the pain, turning your attention to Miguel who’s now reluctantly awake. 
“Morning, grandpa.” 
You walk over and press the sticky note to his forehead, ignoring the way he swears under his breath and looks at you with narrowed eyes. 
“It’s not nice to assault people with sticky notes before they’ve had coffee.”
Shrugging in response, you walk back to your bedroom to grab your phone, listening to the creak of your couch as Miguel shifts out of place. 
It’s weird that he’s still here. After everything that happened last month, you were certain you’d never have to see him again. Being Peter’s boss and not much else, he’d become nothing more than a disdainful memory as time went on. A poor impression from the past that Peter never talked about. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting to hear about him so soon, much less see him, especially without his mask. 
So seeing him here, sitting so nonchalantly on your couch is a bit strange. Off-putting in a way that leaves you emotionally winded as you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your notifications. 
There’s about half a dozen apologies from Peter alone, each variation more extreme than the last. Mixed between there’s a few memes and a picture of him pretending to cry on MJ’s floor with the caption sorry for being the worst brother, which you immediately save for future use. There’s also one from Harry asking you to send him a work email that you ignore and another from Gwen once again asking you to come for brunch. 
You glance at the time, noticing that it’s nearing eleven. She and Harry are probably already at their usual spot, munching away on overpriced, organic eggs and inhaling mimosas. (Something you'd normally enjoy but can’t quite fathom doing thanks to the pain currently rippling through your body.) 
Groaning, you curl further into the bed, feeling your head shift like an ocean wave that sends you flying across the room. In response, you shut your eyes as tight as possible, hoping that if you roll with the movements you’ll get used to them faster. 
Immunity through the power of will and all that. 
“I see you’re still alive.” 
You refuse to open your eyes. You need to focus on getting better —on pushing through the swirling motions that attack your brain because if you don’t you’ll be stuck here all day, helpless and in pain and way too dizzy. No longer will you be a person, but instead a shell. A fragile casing of sensitive flesh stretched over bruising bone that will slowly but surely deteriorate over time. 
“Are you always this dramatic?” 
The urge to argue persists, flowing through you just quick enough that you find yourself opening one eye, noticing his stance. 
He’s standing nonchalantly in the centre of your room; hands placed neatly on his hips. On his face, the tiniest of smirks pokes out of the corner of his mouth, prompting you to lift your head, blinking at what feels like a rare sight.
“Are you always this hostile?”
“Only in the morning.”
“Even towards complete strangers?”
“Especially to strangers.”
“Makes sense why you don’t have many friends.” 
“And how would you know that, stranger?”
He’s got that teasing tone that Harry always has. The one that sounds so condescending that it borders flirtation. Immediately it makes you roll your eyes and direct your attention back to your phone, realizing just how little you want to continue this conversation. You’re too hungover. Too sick and tired to do this whole back-and-forth thing, so instead you call Peter, putting the call on speakerphone with a sigh.
It rings twice before the other end clicks to life, a very joyful and awake Peter greeting the both of you. “Good morning friends, how are we doing on this beautiful morning?”
Almost in unison both of you grumble out a quiet fine that makes Peter laugh, prompting you to look at each other with shared disgust. 
“Are you hungover?”
“What do you think?”
“Gwen called me this morning,” he says, changing the subject. “She wants to go for brunch.”
“That’s nice, but I will not be attending on the account of the fact that I’d rather die.” 
“So dramatic,” Miguel chimes in.
Ignoring him, you place your phone onto the pillow next to you and tighten the covers around your throat.
Your head is still spinning but less so, the waves feeling more like lakeside tides than oceanic swells, leaving you thankful. There’s nothing worse than the spins after a night out. You can handle the stomach aches and even the vomiting but the second you can feel that mental drift you’re a goner. 
“Okay well, MJ and I are going to go if you change your mind. Miguel, you're welcome to come too.”
“No thanks,” he says, unsurprisingly. 
There’s a pause after that. One that lasts a solid five seconds but feels like a lifetime longer thanks to the way Miguel continues to stand there, staring at your pathetic frame tucked haphazardly beneath the covers. 
“You know staring is rude, right?”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, and weird too considering I barely know you.”
“You saying it’s weird for strangers to stare at strangers?” 
“A little, yeah, so knock it off.” 
He gives in, his eyes diverting towards the window before they move to the door, motivating his body to leave the room without another word. Once he’s gone you let out a sigh of relief and listen to his footsteps, hearing the way they move through the living room and into the kitchen. 
It makes you wonder why he’s even still here, taking up space in a home he isn’t really welcome in. You figured it was obvious from the beginning that he was nothing more than an overnight guest. A protective stand-in meant to slip away in the dead of night with no word or note. He was never meant to linger the way he is now and a part of you wonders if he already knows. If instead of picking up and applying said social cues, he’s opting to ignore them for some higher purpose. 
It wouldn’t make much sense but then again, you don’t really know Miguel so maybe he’s just a lingerer. Maybe he’s socially awkward and doesn’t understand that when you’re being mean to him it means you want him to leave your house so you can vomit in peace. 
“I see you guys are getting along.”
“Swimmingly.”
“Did you two have a good night?”
“Yes, oh my god it was amazing!”
“Really?”
You offer a fake laugh that Miguel walks in on, raising his brow in confusion. “No, we had a terrible time. Your boss is mean, Peter.” 
Offended, Miguel opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it, watching the way you smirk beneath the covers, watching his brows knit together.
“How am I mean? I walked you home didn’t I?”
“Sure, begrudgingly.” 
He scoffs, his palms moving to encompass his hips again. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to enjoy walking you home. I’ll remember that next time.”
Next time?
You narrow your eyes and stare directly at him, noticing the way he mirrors your expression. It’s subtle at first, the way the crinkles of his eyes sort of deepen to match the lines across his forehead. His skin is rough —aged looking most likely due to the fact he probably slept terribly— and the bags beneath his eyes are the heaviest you’ve ever seen, even rivalling Peter’s on some of his rougher days. Like you, he looks more like a corpse than a person, his face devoid of anything other than the sickened frustration of having to deal with your attitude.
“I’m gonna be honest if you’re ever running late again, please call someone else.”
It’s obvious you’re talking to Peter but as you speak you continue staring at the man in front of you, glaring at the way his weight shifts beneath your gaze.
You hope he’s uncomfortable. You hope he’s embarrassed or at least feeling a little self-conscious for acting like such a child in a space that he hopefully never feels welcome in. If you were him you’d certainly be.
“Yeah, so, anyway, is that still a no to breakfast or…?”
-
You’re beginning to regret ever wanting to get involved in Peter’s double life. Or at least, its most recent developments. Up until last month, everything was fine. Simple and controlled and not at all hectic like it is now. Back then, everything was smooth sailing when it came to helping. Your only responsibilities being lie to May and make sure the window was always unlocked before you went to bed. Two very mundane tasks you could practically do in your sleep. 
Nowadays, it feels like an endless loop of stress. Kind of like when you were eighteen and just finding out that your brother was a superhero for the first time. Everything is complicated again. The stakes feel higher than ever before knowing the truth that there’s a world out there just like yours, endlessly repeating. That instead of just one Spider-Man there’s probably a million variations doing the same thing Peter’s doing. 
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you look at everything differently —intensively. With each new person you pass you wonder what their version is like somewhere else. Are they still male or female? Are they younger? Older?
As you walk into brunch alongside Peter and MJ, it’s all you can think about as you stare at Gwen, remembering her counterpart. How she looked so familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. 
You realize now that it’s because she’s your Gwen, but not. A direct copy but a good decade younger. They have the same hair colour and eyes and that little gap between their front teeth and upon seeing her it makes you wearily shift into your seat, putting on your fakest smile. 
She’s already a bit tipsy when you arrive, you can tell. Her eyes are half closed and the grin plastered across her face is hazardously wide. 
“Oh, my god, hi! I’m so glad you came!”
If it weren’t for the table between you she’d be pulling you in for a hug, tightening her grip around your shoulders until the air inside you was gone. You inhale nervously at the thought, wondering if other Gwen would do the same. 
It’s hard to tell what traits transfer over. Considering she’s a spider person in her universe it’s more than likely she’s completely different, right? Perhaps relating more to Peter. It’d make sense that all spider people kind of have the same vibe. Perhaps like your brother, they’re nerdy and into photography and have partners with nicknames that double as their initials. Like him they'd live double lives, trying their best to find the balance between being crime-fighting arachnids and regular civilians with the help of their sisters. 
Or brothers. You figure in other universes you’re probably a guy too. Hell, maybe even in some you're the spider person having to navigate through life with the help of your brother. 
“Sorry we’re late,” Pete grins, pulling out the chair beside you so that MJ can sit down. “Somebody had a bit too much to drink.”
You shoot him a look as he sits at the head of the table, sticking out his tongue for good measure. 
You hope in the universe where you have superpowers you give him a hard time. 
“It’s fine, we overdid it too,” Gwen says, looking at Harry who rolls his eyes and looks at Peter, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. 
“Hope you wore a condom,” you say, at which MJ and Gwen gasp, both of their mouths curling into cheeky grins that you can’t help but share. 
Its always been obvious that the two of them are together, even though neither of them would ever admit it. It’s weird but Gwen says it’s a part of the intrigue, having this unlabeled relationship that she can just ride without the responsibility of making it a bit deal. 
Both you and MJ think it’s because she secretly likes the drama of it all, but knowing how she’d react to such a claim, neither of you says that out loud. 
“Did you make it home okay?” Gwen changes the subject before anyone can even join in, making you sort of sad because you love to tease. 
“Relatively. Threw up on the walk home but that’s New York, baby.” 
“Walk home?” Harry questions.
You freeze, remembering Miguel. He doesn’t exist in this world. At least, not to anyone other than you and Pete and maybe MJ. You’re not entirely sure what he’s told her but you figure she knows in some capacity because he wouldn’t have called you otherwise. 
“I mean drive, sorry, drive home. I’m still hungover.” You try to laugh it off but Harry and Gwen share that look. The familiar one where they think you’re lying but know better than to actually bring it up. It’s the same look they give you sometimes when you’re covering for Peter and you hate it, feeling your chest tighten every time it’s shared right in front of your face. 
It reminds you of how you felt having Miguel around. Something about the way he looks at you every time you talk fills you with that familiar twang of insignificance. Like whatever you say isn’t good enough. 
With your friends you know it’s because you’re insecure about your lying capabilities. With Miguel though, it’s different. Yes, it feels the same physically but emotionally it’s an entirely new set of feelings. Ones that have you second-guessing their origins, remembering the way your stomach would twist each time he’d insult you. Each time he’d look at you with those dark eyes and pouting mouth. 
Thinking about it now, he reminds you very little of Peter. Aside from the moniker of Spider-Man the only similarities (so far) you can confidently say that they share is the art of sarcasm and deflection. The way their voices can become so monotonous at the drop of a hat is unparalleled, even with all the tension, and it’s frustrating. 
It makes you wish you didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. Like Peter and Miguel, you wish you could box it all up in the form of calm words so that nobody even got the chance to look at you the way Harry and Gwen still are. 
Secretly, you wish you were the spider person of this universe. Not because you want to save lives, selfishly. No, you mostly just wish you were stronger like them. Less like yourself and more like your brother who sits at the head of the table holding MJ’s hand with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. 
And not so secretly, you want what he has. You want to be confident and to have people look at you in a way that’s filled with adoration. To have them survey you and conclude that you’re decent rather than picking out your flaws. You want May to look at you with fondness. You want her to be proud of you in the same way she’s proud of Peter and to affirm your belief that you’re doing alright for yourself even without filling her desires for grandkids. 
You want Harry to look at you with respect. To stop looking through you just because you’re Parker’s sister who just so happens to be smart too. You want him to take him as seriously as he takes Gwen without the sex. Without the implication that to be valued, you need to provide him with something worthwhile. 
You want Gwen to appreciate everything you do for her. To stop taking advantage of you at work and in life —to provide you with the comfort of an actual friend. 
You want value, you decide. Whether that’s through the gain of superpowers or not. All you want is a little bit more than you’re given and you wish you could express that as you sit at the table, watching everyone talk and laugh as if you’re not really there.
Beside you, MJ leans into Peter as he talks, resting her chin on her hand in longing silence while the two across the table sit, completely engrossed. You try your best to listen in too, picking up that the story involves his boss over at the Bugle. Something about how his last few pictures of Spider-Man were so good he nearly fell off his chair. 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes and pull out your phone, scanning the screen mindlessly, clicking on apps and profiles over and over again until the waitress shows up and asks for your order. You get a mimosa regardless of your hangover and a bagel breakfast sandwich with all the extra fixings, knowing you need it. Then you wait. Wordlessly exhausted, wishing that instead of deciding to tag along you’d stayed at home under the comfort of your covers.
-
Once you step over the threshold of your apartment you let out a sigh of relief and sink into the couch alongside Peter who rubs his face. By now your social battery is running at a negative ten, making your mind fill with nervous thoughts that have you frowning as you curl into yourself, clutching your knees to your chest.
You shouldn’t have gone, you decide then. Regardless of the extended invitation, it was obvious you were only invited because Gwen was drunk and felt bad. That’s usually how it went nowadays. 
“They’re a lot, aren’t they?”
Peter’s always known how much you struggle with people —how you overthink every interaction after it’s happened. It’s how it’s always been and he’s used to it. 
As you nod, you feel his hand against your shoulder, tightening. It’s a gesture of understanding but at the moment it feels like pity so you brush him off, frowning even harder. 
“You okay?”
You aren’t. You’re overstimulated from the amount of interacting you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours. From Harry and Gwen to Miguel and back you haven’t had a break all day and you can feel your mask slipping. Physically, your chest is aching for a breath you can’t quite get, the realization of your interactions pushing you over the edge and all you want to do is scream.
You were such an asshole today. Sure, you’re always kind of mean but this morning specifically felt like a step above the rest with the way you argued with Miguel as if you knew him. As if last night was just another night between you, adding to countless others. You were brash and unwelcoming and rude, and despite how you feel about him sometimes, you still feel pretty shit about it.
“Do you need anything?”
“No.” 
Your tone is stubborn, dripping with an arrogance that has Pete sighing because he knows he can’t do much. When you’re in these moods all he can really do is let you live through your anger —to explore the hate you feel inside in private. It’s how you’ve always done things. So when Peter looks at you with sympathy you can know that’s it. He won’t press the matter further. He’ll just get up and leave and go to MJ’s for the night. Check-in in the morning like he usually does.
As he stands you’re met with feelings of both relief and regret, watching the way he carefully pats your head and steps over your legs. Inside, your stomach drops as he wanders to the doorway, slipping on his shoes and coat without saying a word, knowing that it never solves anything —just makes it all messy. 
Again, like always, you wish you were like him in these instances. Because maybe then you could have a normal relationship that doesn’t rely on boundaries you wish didn’t exist. Instead of pushing everyone away you could sit with them —talk to them. Express instead of repress. Prove to them that the love you want is the love you deserve. 
If you were in any other universe you’re certain you could do it. In this one though? 
You’re too scared. 
-
When you’re alone, it happens, the calm before the storm. 
As the hours move and you lay exhausted on the couch staring at your phone, you find yourself scrolling. Distracting yourself from the inevitable breaking point by watching YouTube video after YouTube video. First, you start with your usual poison, simple documentaries about things like haunted houses or murder cases that remained unsolved. Lazily, you click thumbnail and thumbnail, half absorbing all the names and dates and details as you lie prone, trying not to think about it. 
It takes hours for you to fully accept your emotions and when you do it’s a mess. Now lying in bed, it’s nearing eight and your deep dive on unsolved mysteries has turned into videos discussing the topics of the multiverse. You’re not sure why you decided to delve into all that but regardless, as you do you’re in your head again, clutching a pillow tightly against your cheek as you try to steady your thoughts. 
You bet Miguel’s world has a version of you that’s nicer. One that treats him with respect. They’re probably a spider person too which is why he looks at you with such disdain every time you argue. You’re a lesser version of them —no comparison. They’re better and it drives you insane, thinking that the approval of a man you hardly know is important. 
Aside from Peter, there’s absolutely nothing connecting you. You’re from different worlds both literally and figuratively, so it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
Except that it does, doesn’t it? Deep down, regardless of how well you know one another, this man has managed to find his way inside your skin. You’re not sure when or how or why but somehow he’s always there, lingering at the back of your mind like a memory. Like he’s absent until he’s not —until something reminds you that he exists and that he thinks you’re too inexperienced to understand that he doesn’t like you. 
You figure he doesn’t like you because you’re stubborn. You’re sure there are other reasons but that’s the only one that really jumps out. The way he speaks to you is a direct example of that. Changing subjects often, he doesn’t like when you push his pull. Doesn’t like when you defy his authority or pry. He wants complete and total control and when you’re around he knows he doesn’t have that. You don’t trust him enough to give it.
His version of you probably gives him whatever he wants. Probably spoils him by following him around like some lost fucking puppy. They’re probably older than you —experienced— and have the backbone of an earthworm. 
He probably loves it. 
Shoving your face into your pillow you let out a loud groan, letting the tears well and overflow against the fabric of your pillowcase.
It’s sudden, the storm. Erupting out of nowhere over something that shouldn’t matter. Quickly, there’s a rage that fills inside you, quietly creeping from the depths of your soul in the form of breathless gasps and shaky hands. 
You turn upwards to face the ceiling, the tears coating your eyes in a layer of disarray. You can’t see anything but the blurred beige above you. Everything moves like brushstrokes across the canvas, thick and liquidy and not quite good-looking. It makes you blink in annoyance and throw your forearms over your head, trying to stop the world from letting you see or shake or feel anything other than regret. 
It’s painful, the storm. It feels like a deep wound being opened back up again. All the build-up of scar tissue is there, shoved amongst the perfectly good parts. Usually, they linger there together but as the wound is peeled open by your own hand, you can feel the worst of it start to push. 
As it surfaces, you can feel the catalyst begin to wake. The rate at which the chemicals in your brain begin to increase, pushing you over the edge.
It fucking hurts. 
By now your wound is gaping, ripping at the base of your chest. It’s hard to breathe under all the pressure of the damaged flesh. Under all the memories of a life you once thought was good. Decent 
In another universe, you hope to god you feel just like this. Like the world is caving in and you’re the last survivor. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone —so beside yourself while everyone else so carelessly continues moving. 
It helps calm the storm. Thinking of you —another you. Regardless of if they’re better or worse or completely equal to you, the thought of this feeling extending across the expanse of a place you don’t quite understand fills you with ease.
It closes the hole in your chest —pushes all the tainted flesh back inside for safekeeping. Slowly, it settles into something you can handle again, sewing up the edges that’ll inevitably leave a new scar. 
As you sit up from your bed, brushing past the tears to clear your vision, you feel your breath begin to steady. A slow one-through-five inhale, followed by another one-through-five exhale, each one becoming stronger than the last as you look towards the window, noticing the familiar blue and red spandex standing silently on your fire escape. 
He doesn’t move when you notice him. Doesn’t fly through the air or duck out of sight. Standing there, it’s as if instead of flesh he’s made of stone, unwavering in his attempts to watch you carefully through the window. It’s scary if you’re honest. The way he looks so detached from the world. Even without seeing his face, it’s as if there’s nothing behind the angered design that adorns his features below. His emotions feel completely blank underneath the fabric, making you wonder. 
What’s he thinking about?
As you inch toward the edge of the bed, you see him twitch. It’s subtle. The fingers of his right hand sort of jolt lightly in the air, and it’s over before you can even think about it, so you don’t. Instead choosing to forget as you move towards the window. 
Surprisingly, he still doesn’t move. All he does is breathe, letting the rise and fall of his chest ruin the image of his fixed stance. He’s nervous, like you, you determine. Scared, like you.
It motivates your movements, pushing you through the room until you’re standing in front of the window, reaching for it with shaky hands.
Why hasn’t he left yet?
You push open the window, slowly, watching his body begin to move towards it, his leg pushing through the moment you step away.
“What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t respond. At first, you assume it’s because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say but then he moves. Lifelessly, he brushes past you and wanders into the living room, forcing you to follow as he drops onto the couch with a groan. 
Seriously, why is he here?
You open your mouth to repeat your previous question but are interrupted by his mask. Almost instantly, it disintegrates before your very eyes, revealing fresh injuries that have you holding your tongue because laying there, he looks like Peter after a rough night. Maybe even worse thanks to the shiner that takes a good portion of his left eye. 
“Do you have any painkillers?” 
You don’t even respond before you leave the room, wandering into your bathroom to grab the usual meds you give Peter. They’re prescription, originally given to you for period cramps, but they do wonders on a battered body.
When you reenter, Miguel’s face is scrunched in pain, struggling to find comfort. Because of this, you practically run to the kitchen, grabbing all the usual items: water, ice packs, scotch, carrying it all in one go. 
“What’s the scotch for?”
You untuck a glass from the crook of your elbow and settle on the floor beside the couch, pouring it halfway to the top before downing it.
“None for me?”
You pour another one. “You’re not meant to take it with pills but Peter always says it makes him sleep better.”
“Okay.” 
You’re no doctor, but you’ve experienced this same formula countless times. If he takes one pill with one full glass of water then drinks the scotch, followed by another water he’ll be out like a light in no time.
“Pill, water, scotch, water,” you instruct, watching him closely as he follows suit, chugging back everything in under a minute.
After it’s done he settles into the couch again, tucking ice packs against his face and chest before glancing your way with a grin. “Stuff’s nice. Goes down good.”
He sounds like he’s been hit by a bus, his voice rubbed raw, scratching your brain in a way that makes you squint as you pour yourself another glass.
“Good cause it cost a pretty penny.” 
“Yeah?”
You nod, opting to sip this one, still feeling the burn of the other radiating throughout your chest. “Ben bought it for me. A graduation present or something.” 
“Wasn’t that ages ago?”
“Your point?”
All he does is grin and close his eyes.
-
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Riordanverse Characters as quotes by people i know have said
dedicated to @lord-of-pterodactyls, i know you asked for friends in particular but i’m broadening it as even people i consider my nemeses (old ass philosophy teacher) are funny
Percy: i truly feel as if nothing will ever incapsulate my being as truly as the singing monsters water wubbox
Annabeth: *screaming from adjoining room* GET LOST APPLE MUSIC PRIVACY
Piper: *in bikini* i don’t like people with big boobs
Jason: *trying to compliment piper* your hair looks like dementia
Leo: *emerging from the stinky depths of his room after being in there for 16 hours straight and no showers with clothes from 5 days ago, red scabs all over his body and lips so dry it looks like a snake shedding its old skin by how crusty it is* guys on a scale from 1 to 10 how sexy do i look rn?
Hazel: *yeets her foot out and jiggles her toes menacingly at people she dislikes as an intimidation tactic because her toes are particularly hideous*
Frank: *after literally being targeted by a racial ‘joke’* worse than that, you white people eat spam
Grover: *pats air purifier* a good trusted friend
Nico: *drifts into hazel’s room* bro i ain’t even gonna lie, the holidays are better than the black plague *leaves room before she can question him further*
Reyna: *sleeptalking* stallion le meghan
Rachel: *pretending her coloured markers are vapes*
Thalia: *pointing at luke* my bro be the victim and the perpetrator
Tyson: *when talking about doing math* all i have are my fingers and a dream
Clarisse: *sees a sick person in bed* you’re looking pretty vulnerable *proceeds to ransack their room and steal their sheets like some gremlin*
Octavian: i am THE riddler *speaks in riddler voice and puts on devious little expression* what is... a curtain?
Will: *sees a dying person and looks pointedly at nico* and thats because they didnt take their cenovis vitamin c
Luke: i am constantly one snap away from either committing homicide or suicide
Apollo: *feeling face after new skincare routine* gosh my face feels as soft as a silicone tit
Meg: *pointing at apollo after redemption arc* YOU WON’T GO TO HEAVEN BECAUSE YOU ARE A COMMUNIST!
Magnus: *eating falafel* this is an orgasmic experience
Samirah: *substituting random words in english for arabic and not realising no one understands what she’s saying*
Alex: *laughing at the death threats she gets online after posting a meme about BTS in the military*
Blitz: *does something naughty* omg sorry im such a libra(^ν^)
Hearth: *walks into room* god is dead.
Carter: *walking into sadie’s room visibly upset with a box of cadbury favourites* here take them. if you don’t im going to eat them all. please, dont make me do this
Sadie: take a shit and be late to school or dont take the shit and be on time hell loop
Zia: my top artist on spotify this year will be xi jinping’s wife
Walt: *simply, appreciatively and completely without context* yeah, buddha is a pretty amazing guy
Anubis: i dislike being emo because i can only go as death note characters for halloween
Bast: *absolutely entranced by watching love island uk and is just repeating everything any person says back in a treacherous essex accent*
Bes: *walking into classroom full of young teens with an oversized ‘free james assange’ shirt* today i am a nice, trendy leftist. tomorrow, who knows?
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rewritingcanon · 10 days
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roxanne and hugo headcanons please 🤲🏿
NYEHEHEHEHE OKAY 😋
roxanne:
perfect mix between angelina and george looks-wise. she’s got her mum’s complexion, hair, eye colour, naturally straight teeth and crazy metabolism, but her smile is her dad’s, her eye shape is her dad’s, her hands are long and spindly like her dad’s, and she flaps them around constantly when she’s being dramatic and talking. she also laughs like him. but funnily enough shes shorter than both her parents and she has no idea why.
people think fred and james are the new pranksters because of their namesakes but dont let this fool you. roxanne claims title over this
no for real she is a menace and she is more fred weasley than her brother. which sometimes pisses him off but you can rarely stay mad at her even if she is a shit.
great quidditch player. is a beater. daydreams about hitting her opps with her bat during history of magic class as a preventative from falling asleep
hoards fake tattoos. LOVES THEM. like she’ll never get a real tattoo, but she loves the fake ones
laughs at men who confess their love to her but takes the women who confess to her seriously (she’s not into girls she just respects them more)
pranks her dad the most. then her dad pranks her. fred and angelina… run for cover…
had a situationship with some transfer from durmstrang and literally never lived it down from fred
only got close with rose at hogwarts. shes a year younger than rose and she’s shocked to find out she’s secretly likeable
her favourite uncle is percy— yeah you would never guess. but she loves hanging with people who act like they have a small stick up their butt— it’s more rewarding when she wrangles a laugh out of them. plus percy spoils her the most and she has a sneaking suspicion she is secretly is favourite niece.
people pay her to prank their opps. shes like a clown hitman.
exercised for like a week and got abs from it. everyone is upset. also. is a gym bro. probably the master herder of all the gym bros.
made a secret trolls account to troll people. thought she was so smart for mashing the two concepts together.
ate playdough when she was a kid and was disappointed with how it tasted.
master jinxer. for real, cover your ankles if you’re an opp
opps in general tremble
never fought much with her parents, which is really fucking strange. maybe its because fred fought with angelina and george a lot so roxanne sought unconsciously to balance that out, but she just never thought anything was that serious enough to fight over
but she DOES have fights with fred. sometimes they scrap in the middle of the common room and the reason will be because she chucked a piece of paper at him or something. then two seconds later after she’s got bruises up her legs and he’s literally got a black eye, they’re showing each other their memes.
she’s extremely close with both parents but her best friend is literally her mum and when she gets a letter from her mum at dinner at hogwarts she’ll shamelessly start celebrating and cheering.
“look guys my mummy replied to me!!” “didnt she literally write to you yesterday?”
had pink hair for a moment in time in fifth year and pretended it was on purpose (she meant for it to be red whoops)
hugo:
looks a lot like ron except has his mums bushy brown hair (because thats canon… i know.. crazy…). very freckley and has a deeper complexion but not like his mum’s (yea hes lightskin 💪). built short like his mum though, and rose makes fun of him until he wakes up randomly one morning and hes 6ft.
personality wise hes a mix between his parents. hes a lot like ron in the sense that hes made of dry humour and loyalty to his friends, but like hermione in that he gets exasperated easily and also possesses undying loyalty. now that i think about it, hugo is just extremely loyal
definition of little freak. you know how as the line of cousins gets younger and younger and the youngest of them all is always just a weirdo? yeah, hugo is the youngest.
has a butt indentation on his bed from sitting on it and playing roblox all day. wont move from bed until he gets banned on the servers and is forced to touch grass
but when he touches grass he is all for the grass. rose has his ass on life360 and suddenly hes taken a train up to bumfuck nowhere to go on a spontaneous nature hike. suddenly he’s signed up to a chess club and queen gambits his way to the top spot. suddenly hes in a random protest and he doesnt even know what hes there for he just likes the energy
is called “snotty rat boy” in rose’s contacts
basically is a punching bag for all older siblings but is numb to the abuse and just accepts it (its all well-meaning and full of love)
is aroace but LOVES valentines. he goes all out to get cards for all his friends and family and makes them little trinkets (he can’t buy them anything bcuz hes a broke baby and has too much pride to ask his mum for money only to get her something thats worth less) and plans platonic dates and gets very offended when they have to cancel to spend time with their actual romantic partners. he once rang his mate up to ask for a refund for his time (he was joking but hugo is dramatic as hell and needs to feel loved at all times or else he will literally die)
is the main character of a cartoon network show. i just dont know what..
ipad kid vibes
cant cook anything but really good homemade pizza for some strange reason???
confirmed he was aroace when he was playing truth or dare with his gryffindor buddies (because hugo is definitely a gryffindor) late at night and got dared to french kiss some guy. after he had to flee the scene and brush his teeth out to get that gross taste away, and yeah, he had his suspicions beforehand but this basically confirmed it. and every time he recalls the feeling of kissing someone like That he gets this thousand yard stare on him… one would think hes having war flashbacks….
despite not wanting to get married like That, he wants to be a dad when hes older. He has a list of baby names on his notes app (or wizard equivalent), but they’re all shitty things you would name an oc or a sim, not a real person. shit like “ebony” or “crystal” or “axel.” he showed his list to lily luna once and she laughed and called them stripper names so he got mad and kept it very secretive from then on.
genius chess player. wizard beth harmon who?
is a vegan. it started as a joint pack with hermione (ron and rose said “fuck no”) but hermione caved after six months because she cant stay away from coffee. hugo persisted though
is the only one allowed to ruthlessly rip into and bully the shit out of rose. im not kidding, her parents cant even do it. theyre too scared. meanwhile hugo will walk past her in the hallway and say “oh you look uggo today” with a deadass straight face
thinks about moving out one day and having his own family and thinks about rose moving out and having her own family and how that family will be her primary family and he will be secondary family and how they will have to leave their parents one day— he instantly breaks down into tears. hes just a baby bird guyz plz!!!
does not have any parent hes closer to. ron spoils him more but also scolds him more. hermione rewards him less but lets him get away with more. it balances out.
very close with lily luna so when rose and albus had their falling out they just gossiped about it the entire time. lily would tell him how albus cried for three hours straight during lunch and hugo would tell her how rose started to fixate on their shower and started deep cleaning it the muggle way at four in the morning like she was possessed
is james’ godbrother but keeps forgetting it 💀
not bad at quidditch but never took a huge liking to it. likes watching more than playing and just agrees with whatever his dad’s opinions are on the teams (indoctrination)
able to cast a patronus before rose learned which had her tweak out a lot.
ive written tonnes…. so i will leave it there lol
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tangledinink · 1 year
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Chapter Seven of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is out! Just normal teenage boys doing normal teenage things. :) Read it on ao3 or below the cut.
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It had been three days now since they last saw their dad.
On the first night, over and over, everyone kept saying, ‘I’m sure he’ll be home any minute. He’s more than capable of defending himself. He wouldn’t just disappear. Any second now,’ and the only reason that Mikey had been able to get himself to sleep that night was because he thought that maybe when he woke up again, Dad would be back. He wanted to just skip forward to the good part. But then when he woke up, the good part wasn’t there.
The following morning, Mrs. O’Neil was in the kitchen making breakfast, with the blankets all folded up neat on the couch as if she hadn’t slept there that night. April helped set the table, as if this were normal, as if she hadn’t slept on a bean bag in the Lair, as if they were meant to be here and it made sense for them to be carefully preparing for a big pancake breakfast instead of wolfing down bagels and granola bars in a chaotic frenzy, attempting to make it out the door on time.
It wasn’t like Mikey didn’t appreciate it. He did. It was nice, the gentle looks, the backrubs, the hugs… But it felt weird. Alien, almost. And yet, even with things being so starkly different, even with the five of them staying home from school, staying home from activities, in this absolute jarring contrast to their normal routine, at the same time, there were still these moments that felt so… untouched. Leo and April made bad puns when the opportunity arose like they always did. Raph physically picked up and moved them when they were in his way or getting on his nerves, like usual. Donnie took the time to check up on all of his houseplants, watering anyone who needed it. Some memes were sent to the group chat. Leo and Raph got in a fight over the last raspberry popsicle in the freezer. 
There were moments where Mikey could almost look around and pretend like everything was normal. Dad just wasn’t home right now, and that was all. There were all these beats and steps that just weren’t colored by this horrible thing at all, in this weird way that Mikey wasn’t expecting.
But just on the surface level.
Because no. Dad isn’t just out getting groceries or meeting with an agent or picking up takeout. Dad isn’t here. And they don’t know where he is. 
They had already discovered, on that very first night, that Dad’s cell phone was left in his bedroom. They had obviously all tried texting and calling him about eighty times each, with no response, and eventually found the phone, plugged into its charger on his nightstand. They tried guessing the passcode, but none of them knew it, so they had all looked at Donnie. They said that they would figure it out and pocketed the device. And aside from coming down to care for their plants and grab some banana pancakes, they hadn’t been down from their room since.
They spent most of the first day making calls. They contacted everyone that they could think of. Dad’s agent, his lawyers, any friends or acquaintances he knew. They called each and every one of his dojo locations. Anyone whose number they could find who they had ever known to speak with Dad, they contacted, asking them if they had seen him, heard from him, had anyone idea who the masked guy could be? And over and over they heard, no, sorry. We haven’t seen him. We haven’t heard from him. We don’t know anything about this stranger. We’ll keep an eye out and let you know right away if anything changes. Dead end. Dead end. Dead end.
They texted people, they sent emails, they combed the internet for anything that might be helpful, but they didn’t find anything. The whole group, Mrs. O’Neil and even Donnie included (Mrs. O’Neil, I mean, Carol, made them come. Mikey thought that it was probably because they were nervous about anyone being alone after… you know,) took multiple walks around the neighborhood, the neighborhood next over, and the neighborhood next over to that, looking for any sign of their father.
On the second day, Mikey made posters, and they started hanging those up when they did their walks. Word was starting to spread, and Mikey kept getting texts on his phone-- friends from school, friends from dance, friends from sports, friends of friends… At first, Mikey would reply to all of them. Would say, oh, thank you so much for reaching out, we really appreciate it, please, if you see him at all, let us know… But that rapidly became exhausting. After the first ten, Mikey took to just copy-and-pasting the same message asking them to look, along with an image of the poster he had made. And even just that was exhausting. What was he supposed to say? ‘Everything is horrible and I have no idea how I’m feeling right now, I’m just overwhelmed and terrified-- thanks tho, melting face emoji?’
Donnie got into Dad’s phone but didn’t find anything useful. They sent out emails and texts to every contact he had saved, even though they didn’t recognize half of them, and posted on every social media that he had. All four of them posted on their social media, too. Mikey made a TikTok video reaching out to 350k of his followers. He kept all his notifications on, hoping and waiting that someone would message him telling him that they had seen him and he was okay… but it didn’t come. There was a flood of empathetic comments, of thoughts and prayers, of heart emojis. But nothing that would help them. He and his brothers posted on every Lou Jitsu fan forum that they could find, but they got much of the same there, too.
And now it had been three days. Three days was a long, long time. Ever since that first night, Mikey couldn’t really sleep. He knew his siblings couldn’t, either, and he anxiously fussed over them whenever he could, trying to encourage them to get some rest. Especially Leo. He hardly ever slept even on a good day-- now he kind of just seemed more and more like a wreck as time passed. All of them did. 
It was on the third day that Mrs. O'Neil got a phone call. Well-- she had been on the phone on-and-off ever since she got here that first night, making calls and taking them, even more than they had. But this phone call, in particular, went a little like this:
"Hello?" 
"Yes, this is she,"
"What?"
"No, I'm sorry,"
"No."
"Yes, I'm absolutely certain. No. No, we're not accepting any interview requests right now. I'm not sure you do understand. With all due respect, I'm not putting any of these kids on TV right now. Yes, I'm quite sure."
"Yes."
"You have a great day, too. Goodbye."
Mikey knew that all four of his siblings were listening, but Leo was the first one to speak once Carol hung up the phone.
"Who was that?" 
"A reporter," Carol sighed in response. They had barely exchanged five words and she already seemed exhausted with this conversation.
"What did they want?"
Carol pursed her lips. "They were asking about doing a live interview or bringing you guys on their talk show. I told them we weren't interested."
"Why would you tell them that?"
"Because we're not."
"Uhm. Maybe you're not," Leo corrected, his brows furrowing. "Why the hell can't I do an interview? I can do interviews! I've done interviews before! I'm great at interviews."
"It's not a good idea, Leo," Carol said, putting her phone down, turning her attention back to her laptop in front of her, beginning to type again. Oof. That was gonna piss Leo off.
"Why not?!" Leo demanded, growing pissed off. "I've done interviews before! I've done live shows! I could totally handle this! Besides, we're trying to get the word out to as many people as possible. What if someone saw the interview and knew where Dad was? This could help!"
"This isn't up for debate, Leo. I'm not putting any of you kids on a talk show right now."
"Why is it your decision!? I'm the one who would be on the show! Why don't I get to decide?"
"Because I'm the adult," Carol was just a step away from snapping, but her voice was hard, definitive. "I just said this isn't up for debate. I'm sorry, but it's off the table. It's not a good idea."
Mikey looked nervously at his brother, wondering if he should say something. Raph looked like he was about to, but Leo huffed, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. "Fine," he hissed in reply, promptly moving to the front door and beginning to put on his shoes.
 "Where are you going?" Carol questioned, frowning a bit.
"Gymnastics."
"Leo--"
"I'm sick of sitting around here not doing anything! It's driving me crazy. We have gymnastics practice right now. I'm going to gymnastics. Mikey, are you coming?"
Mikey jumped when eyes shifted to him, floundering for a second. If he was being totally honest, he wasn't exactly in a gymnastics mood, but... he knew that Mrs. O'Neil wasn't gonna let Leo go by himself. And there was no way he was gonna convince Donnie to even leave his room, let alone go to gymnastics practice. Maybe... it would be good? Get his mind off of things?
"Yeah. Uh. I'll come. Let me grab my stuff. Hang on," he said, jumping to his feet and scampering off to grab their gymnastics bags-- packed and ready to go in the hallway, like they always were, like they didn't know anything was wrong. 
"Leo, I don't know if this is--"
"I'm not going alone, Mikey is with me. There's gonna be adults there. We'll get a taxi cab home when it gets dark. I'm not gonna sit here twiddling my thumbs anymore. I'm gonna go insane." Leo spoke over her, and Mikey thought privately to himself that that was rather ballsy. Leo must really be upset because usually none of them would dare interrupt Mrs. O'Neil. He hurried to get his shoes on, hoping that they could escape before things got too heated. Sorry April, sorry Raph. 
"Ready, Mikey?"
"Yeah… yeah, I'm ready. Let's go." 
---
April was trying really hard to be patient with her brothers right now, 'cause she knew that they were having a hard time. I mean, if either of her parents went missing, she'd probably be behaving less than her best, too. Raph was clingier than ever, and April had had to talk him off the metaphorical ledge about five times now, Donnie had turned into a total hermit, even by Donnie standards, Leo was honestly being kind of a brat, and Mikey was...
Ugh. God. Mikey. He was such a sweetheart. He was killing himself, April could tell. Even more than she was killing herself right now. She would have to corner him later. Right after she cornered Leo.
And kicked his ass.
Look, she got where he was coming from, but did he really need to tick her mom off like that!? And then leave her to deal with it?! She knew her mom was mostly just worried, (and, okay, maybe also kind of peeved, but April could only kind of blame her,) but that didn't make it any more pleasant. And once she managed to settle her down, she had to deal with Raph, too. 
 If her mom was freaked out, then Raph was about ready to lose his mind. April half thought he was gonna take off after Leo and Mikey on foot any second now. April sank into the couch next to him, bodily draping herself over his lap to make sure he didn't go anywhere.
"Hey Big Guy," she said, blinking up at him, forcing a half-hearted smile. "How you holding up?"
"Me?" Raph said, just barely glancing down at her before his eyes snapped away again, anxious and flighty. "I'm fine. Raph's fine. How are you holding up?"
God, they were all so predictable. April privately thought that self-sacrifice must be a Hamato tradition. It was simply a question of which one of them could outdo the rest.
"You're a bad liar. You're as bad as Mikey. As bad as Donnie."
"What?!" Raph squawked in protest. "I am not as bad as Donnie! No one's as bad as Donnie!"
"Okay, well, maybe not that bad," April relented. "Leo and Mikey are gonna be fine. They're taking the subway in broad daylight. They're only gonna be, like, ten minutes away. They both had their phones and they already said they'll take a taxi cab home. It's okay."
"I know," Raph said, wrinkling up his nose. "It's just-- I mean. What if somethin' bad happens to 'em? And I'm not there to help?" 
"You know it's not your fault, right?"
There was a telling silence.
"Raph. It's not your job to protect your Dad from creepy stalker fans. And you couldn't have done anything."
"I know," Raph relented, frowning a little. And it wasn't that April didn't believe him, but... There was a difference between knowing and knowing. April knew that perfectly well. Raph might be the biggest brother, but she was the biggest sister, and... okay, she wasn't gonna sit here and delude herself into thinking that she could have physically stopped that guy if she had just moved a little faster. She wasn't a martial arts champion like the rest of them, (even if she did have a mean left hook and an even meaner softball swing.) But she hated... watching them fall apart. She hated watching all of them shrivel up under the stress. She hated that she couldn't fix this for them... Or at least make it a little easier.
And she was worried too. Mr. Hamato might not be her dad, exactly, but... this was her family, too. She had known Yoshi since she was five! She used to spend every afternoon after school at their house, and they would spend the weekends at hers. She couldn't even count how many slumber parties and sleepovers they had had over the years. Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey were like her brothers, and Yoshi was, like... her weird uncle or something.
She really hoped he was okay. And that he'd be back soon.
"Nothing bad is gonna happen. They'll go to gymnastics, they'll blow off some steam, they'll come home, and maybe Leo will be less of a headache for the rest of the evening." She said with a sigh. "Maybe he's got a point! You guys aren't used to being cooped up for so long."
"I guess," Raph said, seeming unconvinced, though he leaned back a little into the cushions, slumping a bit. April would take even the littlest victory. 
"You could probably use a distraction too."
"Mmm..."
"Sooo... You could paint my nails for me? I'll paint yours back." She offered, raising a brow. He had to take the bait here. This always worked. The boys loved getting their nails painted. Especially Raph, since he was so bad at doing his own. He was okay if he was working on someone else, but if it was a solo project, that right hand just never quite turned out right.
It took a moment, and for a moment April thought he might actually turn her down, but eventually, he sighed and relented. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "But Raph gets to pick the colors this time."
Thank god for small miracles. He could pick whatever color he wanted.
---
Mikey had never noticed how loud the gym was before.
Usually, it didn't bother him. But today? It was just... so much noise. Every thump of a landed flip echoing through the padded floor, reverberating, every shout, every stomp, every clap of chalk on hands... It seemed to travel right through his bones.
He was waiting for it to wear off. 
Their instructor had seemed... surprised to see them, especially since they had gotten there a half-hour late, but hadn't protested or turned them away, much to Mikey's relief. Well, initially it had been relief, but now he wasn't so sure. Usually, he adored gymnastics. It was easily one of his favorite hobbies, (tied between ballet, painting, cooking, yoga, hip-hop, and skateboarding,) but there was something... off today. Every movement seemed just a beat behind reality, as if he himself were lagging somehow, like the connection was slow. His head felt fuzzy.
Every second they were here felt so odd. Everyone was just... working. Doing gymnastics. Practicing back-flips and floor routines. Mikey wanted to scream at everyone. How could they all just act like this when their dad was missing? How could they pretend like things were okay and just keep moving through life? Every person they passed on the walk here, every passenger on the subway, the receptionist at the front desk, he wanted to grab them by the front of their shirts and wail to them and explain everything. 
How could people just live? How could so many people just not know that their dad was gone and might not ever come back?
Mikey had been working on his high bar routine for almost forty minutes now, and he still wasn't getting it right. Usually, this was easy. It wasn't even that hard of a routine, not compared to some of the other things he had done before. But every single time he made another go at it, he missed a beat or moved the wrong way, his brain blanking out on the next step, and he'd have to start over again, gritting his teeth and telling himself he'd get it right this time. The chalk on his hands itched. He was forming a blister. Blisters had never bothered him before.
His coach was being so patient. So sweet, repeatedly telling him it was okay, he could just try again, but it wasn't okay. He wanted to yell at her, too, that they both knew he could do better than this. But he didn't. He just thanked her and nodded his head and kept going.
Leo was over at the vault. He could see him from here. From what he could see, he was doing fine. He wasn't missing any turns or freezing up or losing his balance. He was doing great. His routine looked perfect. Why was he doing so perfect? What was wrong with him? If the problem wasn't Dad, if it wasn't affecting Leo, then it had to be--
Mikey's hand missed the bar. He never missed the bar. He didn't swing far enough and his hand didn't make contact. 
He missed. He fell.
He never fell.
It didn't hurt. They had all this matting for a reason-- for exactly this reason, in fact. There wasn't even any heavy thud of contact, no wind got knocked out of him, he just flopped sadly down on his back on the padding, bouncing a tiny bit, staring up at the bars above him.
He fell down. He never fell down. He missed. He never missed the bars. 
He knew he needed to get up. He should try again. If he didn't move, people would worry, or think he was hurt or something. But every time he told himself to sit up, his body didn't quite listen. 
After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, his older brother's face came into view. He had been expecting a coach. He wasn't sure if Leo was better or worse.
"Well that wasn't very razzmatazz," Leo remarked with a grin, leaning over and offering a hand to the other. "Here, c'mon. I'll help you up."
Mikey sniffled a tiny bit. His body didn't listen when he told it to grab Leo's hand, either.
"I wanna go home," he finally got his mouth to move.
"What?" Leo immediately protested. "Oh, come on, little brother, we just got here. We've still got two hours left of gym time! You love gymnastics. You're not gonna let one little fall get to you, are ya?"
"I wanna go home," Mikey repeated, because he didn't know what else to say. His voice sounded horrible. What was the matter with him? This wasn’t even what he wanted to be saying. He didn't want to talk to Leo like this. He did love gymnastics. This wasn't him! He didn't act this way. Why was he acting this way? He blinked rapidly, hoping that it would help somehow.
He didn't want to look at Leo anymore, so he didn't. But he heard him sigh. He felt the gym mat shift as Leo slowly moved to lay down next to him, until both of them were staring up at the ceiling like silly little animals stuck on their backs, unable to flip back over.
Like...
I dunno, like beetles or something.
"We can go home if you want to, Mikey," Leo said, and Mikey hiccuped softly, wrinkling up his nose.
"Sorry," he bit out. "... We c-can stay if you want. I can stay."
"Nah. It's fine. We should go home," Leo repeated, finding Mikey’s hand and squeezing it shortly. "Sorry. For dragging you out."
Mikey shook his head, sniffling a bit. Ugh, crying on your back sucked. His nose was all full of gunk. 
"I like gymnastics," he said weakly, and Leo laughed.
"Yeah, I know. That's 'cause you're really good at it."
Mikey nodded kind of numbly, crossing his arms over his chest, clinging to himself slightly. 
"Everyone is acting like nothing's wrong," Mikey whispered.
"Yeah," Leo sighed through his nose. "It's weird, right? I keep seeing people on the street and being like... Oh my god. They don't even know. They have no idea. And, like, I don't even know what's going on with them, either. Like. You know that lady we sat next to on the subway? I kept thinking, I dunno, maybe her dad went missing once, too, and we don't even know. How much shit do we just not know?"
"Leo, what if he doesn't come back?"
It wasn't like Leo was bad at hugs. It's just that he wasn't as good at hugs as everyone else. There was a very clear ranking, and yes, Mikey did keep track, like a reasonable person. At the very top of the ranking, obviously, was Raph. Raph gave the best hugs-- He scooped you up and swung you around and you got all squished and squeezed in the best way possible. Absolutely top-tier. Second best hugs were Dad, because, well, they were Dad Hugs. Dad Hugs had a special quality to them. He really didn't think he had to explain himself any further. Next up was Donnie, not necessarily because Donnie was good at hugging or anything, but just because he was so rarely down for hugs that every time he got one it was special. It felt like he was winning something-- especially since he got Donnie hugs more than anyone else in the family. April hugs were next, because while she gave really good hugs, and she always let him cling to her for as long as he wanted, her glasses could be a bit pokey at times. And then Leo brought in the rear-- not because he was bad at them, but just because the competition was so stiff.
But this was a really, really good hug. Two really's.
The absolute second Leo had him wrapped up in his arms, Mikey just dissolved into sobs, before he even had a proper chance to try not to. He was just so tired of feeling scared like this. If Dad wasn't going to come back, could they just know already?! He hated waiting. He hated not knowing! He just wanted to tear the band-aid off so that he could mourn and then get better. This was worse than their Dad being dead, he thought to himself. He almost wished that he was just dead, and that this could at least be over. Wasn't that horrible...? How could he feel that way?
 He was pretty sure Leo was crying, too, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He was clinging way too tight to see anything. 
"It'll be alright, Mikey." Leo's voice was muffled, but he could hear him all the same. "We'll be okay. Dad would never stay away from us on purpose. We'll figure it out."
---
They had been getting a lot of takeout since Dad went missing. No one really felt like cooking-- not even Mikey, and Leo couldn't even blame him. He wouldn't wanna cook, either. He barely even wanted to eat. And there was pizza in front of him. That was a big deal.
 This was their third Jupiter Jim movie marathon night in a row, but Leo wasn't the least bit excited. He was trying hard to pretend like he cared about which title they put on, to keep up with all the running jokes they had, to pay attention, but his heart wasn't in it. No one else's was, either, he knew. They hadn't even been able to convince Donnie to come out of his room and join them since the first night, much to his frustration.
 It was all just distraction. They were just smoke-screening themselves to pretend like everything wasn't awful, and frankly, Leo wasn't even sure who it was benefitting anymore. Clearly not Mikey. He had gotten it back together by the time they started heading home from gymnastics and had made Leo swear to secrecy, insisting that he 'didn't wanna worry anyone.' Leo had told him that that was stupid, that everyone was already worrying anyway, and pretending like he was fine wasn't gonna make a difference, but if he was being honest, he and the rest of the family rarely won any arguments against Mikey, so... 'keep it between them' it was. 
It was stupid. He wasn't fooling anyone. None of them were. 
And yet here he was, playing pretend right along with them anyway. He was such an idiot. 
As was rapidly becoming routine, they all stayed up long enough to watch three Jupiter Jim movies while eating whatever dinner had been ordered that night before everyone headed off to bed, saying keywords and phrases like 'I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted' and 'it’s getting pretty late,' etc etc, even though Leo was pretty sure no one was sleeping. He certainly wasn't. And he was really trying. He swore he was, but... 
Even under the best of circumstances, sleeping was hard. He had never understood how Dad or Mikey could just fall asleep the way they did, laying their heads down on their pillows and almost instantly drifting off. Sleeping involved so much work, so much effort, that sometimes it just felt easier to call the night a wash, take the all-nighter and go from there. Yes, he had tried meditating. Yes, he had tried Melatonin. He had tried sleep podcasts, white noise machines, drugs, music-- he swore he had tried it all! And none of it fixed the problem. Some of it helped, sure, but nothing consistently guaranteed him a full night's rest. Every night it was just a roll of the dice; a total blind bag. Some nights, he would sleep, and some nights, he wouldn't. It was anyone's guess.
Including his.
He wouldn't have put money on going to sleep that night. But he did.
He had no idea what made him realize that he was dreaming, but at some point, he did. He couldn't even tell you what had been happening before that point, because now, he didn't remember. Had he been outside? It had been cold. It had been dark, and there was water nearby, but he didn't think he had been outside. Somewhere else, but... He wasn't sure where.
But now, he was in their house. Right in their living room. Leo frowned a bit, looking around slowly. It was odd for their house to be this quiet. 
He paused, looking at the family pictures hanging on the walls in abundance. Someone had written something on them in black marker, but he couldn't read it. It was in plain English, but he had no idea what it said. He leaned in a bit closer, narrowing his eyes, trying to translate, when a cry ripped his attention away.
"Blue!"
He knew that voice. Eyes widening, Leo whipped around to face his father-- on the ground not more than five feet away, pinned beneath some hulking stranger with jagged horns erupting from their head, their eyes glowing white and their jaws dripping with foamy blood.
"Dad?! Hang on!" He tried to jump forward, to reach out for him, but his legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't his legs move?! His dad was right there-- right there in front of him! He could help him! He could save him, so why wasn't anything working?!
"Blue!" The same howl tore through his mind, and Leo hissed, clapping his hands over his ears as if that would help. He didn't want to watch. He didn't want to watch this creature kill his father-- he couldn't do it. 
This is a dream, he reminded himself. You're dreaming. If you don’t want to watch, then you have to wake up. Wake up. Wake up now!
He could see it-- almost feel it-- his own body laid out on his bed back in the waking world, curled up on his stomach, his cheek to his pillow. He knew exactly where he was. He could see his room. He knew he was dreaming, so why couldn't he wake up? He couldn't get his body to move at all, repeatedly trying to sit up, to open his eyes, to jolt a limb to the side to no avail. The pitch of the screams shifted higher.
"Come on! Wake up already! I know you can hear me!" He cried, gritting his teeth. He knocked his fists angrily against the side of his head. "Move. We have to move!" He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, and he wasn't sure if that was his dream self or his actual self. How was he supposed to tell the difference? "Move!"
Leo startled awake, his head jerking upwards and his limbs splaying outward in surprise. The entire house was quiet. Right... because it's the middle of the night. Because he was dreaming.
He had just been dreaming, and now he was awake. It was fine. He was fine.
Slowly, he sat up, running his hands through his hair with a sigh, rolling his head a few times to try to work the stiffness of his neck. He reached for his phone, knowing it would be plugged in on his nightstand, except... It wasn't there. 
 Leo frowned a little bit, wrinkling up his brows. His phone wasn't there. In fact, his nightstand wasn't there either. His bed wasn't even there, he realized with a start. He wasn't in his own room. He was on the floor-- the floor of-- somewhere else in the house, he guessed. How the hell did he get here? Had he sleepwalked? That was new.
 He noted, vaguely, that whatever room he was in wasn't nearly as dark as he would have expected. There was this warm golden-orange glow blanketing the room like a nightlight, and Leo thought vaguely that someone must have accidentally left a desk lamp on or something, turning to take a look.
He had not been expecting to see his youngest brother floating half a foot above his own bed. Nor for him to be glowing.
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Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji Friendship HCs
Rules Word Count: 0.8k Spoilers: None
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Luffy
Great friend but also not💀
Bro will show up uninvited to drag you into something possibly illegal
He’ll take your food too, your not safe
He will always be clinging to you in some way. Like he'll have his arms stretched around you or he'll carry you on his back.
He loves giving you gifts, but he's really bad at it
like he'll give you a box of leaves he thought were cool, or a really long worm he found in Usopp's garden
Sometimes he'll wander into your room and sleep in the room with you.
You'll wake up with him hanging off the end of your bed or snoring on the floor.
If you ever seem stressed or upset, he'll put his strawhat on your head. It's kinda his way of trying to comfort you without being pushy about what's bothering you
You'll pretend to be Zoro and he'll pretend to be Sanji and the two of you will jokingly fight with each other
He'll trade you his goldfish for your Capri Sun
Most things you do are gonna be a competition with him
The two of you tried to start your own band once but Nami said you were being too obnoxious
There's no chance he washes his hands so, for the sake of everyone else, please make sure he's somewhat hygenic
Your hype man
He'll find you before breaking into the fridge. You're the iconic duo Sanji despises
Very spontaneous friendship, it's very common for the two of you to be playing tag or hide n' seek at the worst possible moments on the worst possible islands
Zoro
He'll try to trip you when you walk by
You're one of the few people he wouldn't mind taking a nap with
Would ask if you wanted to work out with him and secretly be really happy if you agreed
He'd share his alcohol with you
You two would do drinking games with each other every other day
The crews gotta somehow separate the two of you and send you to bed cause you're both laughing wa too loud and none of them can get any sleep
I imagine his love language would be acts of service, so he might offer to help you with whatever chore you were assigned that week or just anything in general
He'd push you to be your best self physically and mentally
He would never admit it, but he loves spending time with you
Let's hope you're good with directions, cause the two of you are going to end up lost a lot. The crew eventually just appoints you to keep him from wandering.
You'll have to get a leash for him or something.
He's a very loyal friend and would never dare betray your trust in any way
Throw your trust and abandonment issues out the window cause you aren't getting rid of him anytime soon
He hates physical affection, it just makes him feel kinda uncomfortable
Although if you really needed it, he'd give you a very stiff hug and an awkward pat on the back
One time you were fishing together and you fished up a beer. Zoro now looks forward to fishing.
Sanji
Your confidence will skyrocket after hanging out with him
He'll give you the kindest and most genuine compliments you've ever received, regardless of your gender
Out of these three, he's probably the best to go to for advice
He’ll do whatever you wanna do. He loves talking to you and just spending time with you overall
You know that meme where it’s like “they asked for NO pickles”? That’s him. He’ll be defending you for absolutely everything
He’ll try to give you fashion tips, but it’s 50/50 whether it’s good or bad
Would probably cry if you gave him a gift
I feel like he’d really like watching movies with you. He just strikes me as a movie kinda guy.
He’s physically affectionate but also kinda not (?)
It’s almost as if he holds back on it cause he doesn’t wanna overwhelm you
When you’re out on the town he’ll be your self-appointed bodyguard
He’s gonna love cooking with/for you.
He’d be so excited if you wanted to learn to cook or were just a little interested in it.
Very concerned about your well-being and will constantly make sure you're doing good. He’s ready to solve all your problems even if it's completely out of his control
There’s gonna be a lot of times when the two of you are just hanging out in the kitchen as he gives you random samples of food he wants your opinion on before continuing whatever conversation you were having earlier
Your biggest supporter
You and he would team up to attack Luffy after he steals food from the kitchen
Would probably go to you for advice on how to approach Zoro women, even tho he considers him an expert
Overall, a very positive friendship :)
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jujitto · 6 months
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▬▬ [ 𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 ] MTL HOW MUCH I WANT TO FIGHT THEM!
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𝖺𝗍𝗓 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ genre ۪ ׂ 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ cw ۪ ׂ 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗈𝗇 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ wc ۪ ׂ 𝟢.𝟪𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌
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MOST
SAN : He’s been bias-wrecking me a little too much for my liking. STAY IN YOUR LANE, CHOI SAN! Honestly, he can catch these hands but I'm kind of scared because he kind of feisty not gonna lie. Don't pretend y'all don't see the way he is ready to fight Wooyoung! 😭 And I know y'all seen the he kicked that guy in the bouncy music video. Probably pull out some karate//taekwondo moves on my ass. I still think I would win. Not fairly tho. My ass will be cheating. 🤷🏽‍♀️ ALL I GOT TO SAY IS HE BETTER DUCK BECAUSE I'M THROWING STUFF!
WOOYOUNG : I only put him second, because I feel like it would be fun to fight with him for some absolute reason. THIS BITCH PULLS HAIR, I CAN JUST TELL! OK, but I feel like play-fighting would eventually turn into actual fighting. Not going to lie I feel like he would win this fight because he’s crazy. You and I both know this motherfucker is crazy. WHY CAN I SEE HIM TRY TO SNEAK ME?!? 😭 If it doesn't become actually fighting, I feel like he would honestly somehow make me actually fight him. BRUH WHY CAN I SEE HIM BITING? WOOYOUNG IS INSANE. One bite and I’m swinging. And if he wins best believe I’m coming back for round 2 because I am not losing to him.
HONGJOONG : My bias. To be honest, I just wanna fight him just to be fighting him. I honestly wanna see who is going to win. Another feisty bitch. OK BUT WE WOULD PROBABLY FIGHT OVER THE FACT I BIAS MORE PEOPLE THAN JUST HIM. Why can I honestly see this though?! I kind of get the vibe of him saying if he wins I have to drop everyone else for him. Honestly I would try my hardest to beat him up because bitch the groups I stan are the groups I stan for a reason. I can see him getting his evil ass kids to help, especially Wooyoung. SEE THIS IS NOT WHAT WE FINNA DO. In regards to who would win the fight….no clue.
YEOSANG : HONESTLY WOULD FIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE’S TOO FUCKING PRETTY. How dare he be so pretty? It’s not fair. Probably would feel bad if I beat him up because he didn’t deserve it but at the same time he did, because why is he so pretty?! No one should be this pretty?!?? I CAN SEE HIM FIGHTING BACK THO?! I feel like he would curse me! I DONT KNOW WHY BUT I JUST GET THOSE VIBES FROM HIM! Sorry not sorry!
SEONGHWA : ANOTHER PERSON I WOULD FIGHT BECAUSE WHY IS HE SO PRETTY?! But I would honestly feel so bad after it because he stays getting disrespected by those members of him (he know who he is!) The only one member I would probably feel bad for fighting because he didn’t deserve it but he did deserve it if you know what I’m saying because no one should be that pretty and I mean no one!
MINGI : OK I LIED ANOTHER PERSON I WOULD FIGHT AND THEN FEEL EXTREMELY BAD ABOUT FIGHTING. just seems like a really good person until I just feel like fighting him. Would it be necessary? No but I would still fight him just for the fun of it. But then I would feel bad because. OK, BUT MINGI LOOKS LIKE HE CAN FIGHT BUT ACTUALLY CAN'T! TELL ME I’M NOT WRONG! Honestly, I can see myself winning this fight, but then at the same time, I see myself going to apologize to him after fighting him. Because he honestly doesn’t deserve to be fought.
YUNHO : NOW YOU AND BOTH KNOW THE REASON WHY YUNHO IS ONE OF THE PEOPLE I WOULD LEAST LIKELY FIGHT! Because he’s so damn tall. Why you gotta be so tall for?! If I fought him, all he would have to do is back hand me and I would be across the room. It’s kind of like that dog meme with that guy who asks his dog if he wants the ball and he throws it across the room and the dog goes flying after it that’s how I will be. Legit. SO HELL NO I’M NOT FIGHTING THIS TALL LANKY MF! HELL NO! YUNHO IS A NO-NO! 😂
JONGHO : ANOTHER PERSON I WOULD NOT FIGHT! I’m not fighting him because he can break apples in half, so what makes me think I can fight him!? If he can break an apple so easy what makes you think he can’t break me in half! I would literally be so scared for my life! Do you not see how ready he is whenever his Hyungs are doing something annoying?!? HE CAN FIGHT I CAN JUST TELL! YOU AND I BOTH KNOW HE CAN! 😭 So fighting him is a risk I’m not willing to take because I’m not ready to be sent to an early grave just yet OK…..OK!
LEAST
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catiuskaa · 10 months
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[01:43 am]
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SUMMARY: study buddies are always close to each other. Still, exams week is over, so when Felix shows up in your room, a silly UNO game is the go-to for clearing things up… in a meme way.
WC: 2.1k
CW: fluff, fluff, fluff!
A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone or as the second part of my other fic which I'll link here
[🔸☆🕯️☆🔸]
knock knock.
“Who’s there?”
“How many people come to your room at this time for you to ask?” he joked, putting a silly smile on your features.
Laughing in a low voice, you opened your room’s door, looking at the silhouette of the slightly taller man before you. He smiled when you opened, eyes almost forming crescent moons, and you chuckled.
“Holy shit, did you stick a fork in the electrical faucet or something? Did you even wash up?” You laughed, looking at the fluffiness of his hair.
Felix laughed as if he had written it, letting a dry “ha ha” leave his lips.
Lips you were trying to avoid looking at, but let’s pretend otherwise.
You let him in, and the silence that filled the room was uncomfortable as if you had stepped on a small LEGO piece that appeared out of nowhere.
You wished to find something to do because, even though at the beginning of whatever these meetings were, they consisted of study sessions for your Korean. However, the tests had finished for both of you, but you kept going to each other's dorms unconsciously.
The freckled Aussie had taken his phone out, and you kept staring at him as if someone had put you on pause.
His mere structure, his position laying on your bed as if the room belonged to him, the small purple LED lights that decorated the space shining on his face along with the blue light of his phone just enough so that his freckles looked like they were glowing… you let out a small, dreamy sight. You shook your head, a tad more nervous than before, as you scanned your room a third time, hoping to find a mutual distraction, considering you’ve watched all the DVDs you had, plus your Netflix account was giving issues… Suddenly, you smiled and rose, not noticing Felix’s brown eyes tracing your poorly illuminated figure with every step you took.
He was a goddam coward, and he insulted himself mentally for taking out his phone, his mind playing images of the classical Grumpy Cat meme staring at his soul, mad at his sins. He just couldn’t show up in your room and do nothing after what happened between you.
Because even though everything seemed fine and you guys’ teasing was still there, how could he even try to ignore that last dance training session you both had? How was he going to pretend that nothing had happened if feeling your lips against his was enough to make him forget not only which was left or right, but also up and down?
Without even realizing it, you both felt a shiver run through your backs, one that screamed at you to cut the tension and do something already.
“Brownie, leave TikTok for a sec and pay attention to me.”
And you took those red and black cards, stuck with a black hair tie, turning around to face him when your gazes locked. You smirked.
“Care for an UNO game?”
It was then when Detective Pikachu wanted to scream his ‘Now it’s getting interesting’, and damn, he was right.
Felix turned off his phone, staring at you as he mentally sipped from his "respect women juice”. You were wearing a hoodie that was probably big enough for both of you to fit in, and there would still be remaining space. Still, he couldn’t think of anything except how cute you looked. While he was at it, Walter White got into his mind Breaking Bad style, saying "You’re goddam right" as he left epically.
Sitting in front of him, you left the cards in the middle as you rolled your sleeves up to your elbows. He took the cards, and you couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded when he put the hair tie in between his lips, tying his hair up, while you didn’t even dare to not think about how good he looked with sleeveless shirts. Larry the Lobster was almost shouting “observe” in your ears, and shit, who were you to disobey Larry the Lobster?
“W-who starts?” you said, snapping out of your bubble called ‘Lee Felix’.
“Rock, paper, scissors?”
You nodded and both of you moved your hands forward, feeling a tingly sensation on the palm of your hands, wishing deep down, were the centre of the Earth, the lava and Chan’s healthy sleep schedule where for the other to take the contrary's hand and pull just so the tension could be fucking finished.
After you teased him for losing, he shuffled the cards and gave seven each, leaving the rest in the centre and starting with a green zero.
“Yo, wanna do something kinda stupid?” you smiled, eyeing those two +4 cards, the red skip card and the yellow reverse, the remaining three being a blue seven, a green seven and a red two.
Felix saw the way your eyes started to glow and swallowed the need to say “I’m kinda stupid, do me,” and instead smiled softly, murmuring a low “surprise me” that made you feel chills all over your body as if you had suddenly turned into that meme video where a girl was doing makeup during an earthquake.
“Say, for example. Even though I really can’t choose a favourite one, blue hair really looks good on you, and aside from the damage, it’s quite soft and I really like it,” you mentioned with a small smile that quickly grew on his face too as you settled the green and blue sevens on top of the green zero. “And green, eh… oh, right. During the maniac comeback you wore a green jacket, right? For the M/V?” He blinked, as he didn’t really remember. “I think so. Well, it looked good on you too.”
Feeling blessed, convinced that if he just looked up he could say “Hey God, it’s me again” and He would answer “What’s up my g”, he blushed fiercely, failing to hide his face between his cards, making you giggle softly.
You paid close attention to the pinkish-coloured mess you had turned your… friend?
Damn, guess who’s red now too.
“It’s ok if you don’t want to continue the game like this,” you backed up, your brain screaming ‘abort the mission, soldier’ with a cutesy smile.
Yongbok smiled, relaxing again, setting a blue +2 on the cards you had put. You looked stunned at the freckled boy, the image of that blonde woman crying and screaming to a cat suddenly in your head due to the treason that had been committed.
“So… I really like playing with you… +2…?”
And that was the moment you knew no matter the outcome of the game, if the case happened and he had all the plus cards, you wouldn’t even dare to complain if that meant he would have to say corny things like that for the rest of the play.
The flattering comments followed each card, the +4, +2, and even a wild one, because “I like every one of your colours”, Lee mentioned, which made your intestines churn and turn as Steve Harvey fixed his tie while saying, "Everybody feels better now."
Until you reached that move.
“UNO.”
The alarm clock that rested on the side table signalled 1:43 am in a deep red colour. You had two cards remaining, the +4 you’d kept since the beginning of the play and a yellow reverse. Between the pretty boy in front of you and yourself rested a blue four and you could smile because the win was near.
But Felix had only one card remaining.
You had filled each other to the brim with compliments, so much that if the case had been that they had to be written in paper, you would’ve filled notebooks till the limit. It had ended up being so easy to flatter the person in front, because even what could appear as flaws to one turned out to be the most beautiful qualities to the other’s eyes.
And as the game continued, holding close to your heart that clip where Han screamed “There’s nothing wrong with falling in love” in case you lacked the courage, you dropped the bomb with that card that had been waiting patiently for its moment of glory.
“I have a crush in you.” You let out, letting the +4 fall on the rest of the deck. “UNO.”
Felix couldn’t even hold back his blush at this point. He had been a mess since the game started, and there was only you to blame for it. Ever since the study sessions (and probably earlier, if he thought about it), you had settled on his mind without planning to move, wreaking all in your way. And this game had somehow triggered him, like a sort of… boom. He couldn’t even word it.
With his mind still a blabbering mess, something gave him the impulse. Maybe it was some fucked-up courage that got out for some reason, maybe the lack of sleep, the memes, or perhaps all of it at the same time. Something made him settle that card and that sentence.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all fucking night.”
+4.
Holy Jesus of Mother
Saying you were left speechless would be as dumb as obvious because you were unable to reply. You lifted your gaze from that coloured card that hours ago would’ve meant a death wish and a war declaration but you suddenly had the need of hugging it and read bedtime stories for it every night as a form of gratitude. Settling your eyes on Felix’s tender features, going from his eyes down to his lips just to go back to his brown ones, you settled that reverse on top of it.
In a game with several people, that would’ve lost its meaning, but just between the two of you, it was the spark of consent that the freckled boy needed.
Brutally ignoring the fact that he had lost the game, that he would have to pick up eight cards, none of the two would actually know who threw themselves first, but you could swear that you felt fireworks running up your bloodstream after arriving at the conclusion that the tension around you was as real as it was going to get and that it had remained there since the blue-haired idol entered the room (or even before, if I may) and in the blink of an eye your lips crashed in a small kiss, one that looked more like a way of asking for permission.
“I-i…” Felix stuttered, perplexed, fascinated, feeling like he could suddenly go bungee jumping.
You got closer to the freckled boy in front of you, stopping merely a centimetre away from his face. You could taste the minty flavour of his toothpaste just from the air he was letting out.
“Do that again.”
Not much thinking added, getting bravery from who-knows-where, he took your face in between his hands softly, linking your lips in a way more intense kiss. You felt his touch equally soft and firm, much to differentiate from the last one. You let out a shaky sigh when you felt his tongue brushing your lips. A bit anxious, you let your hands wander through Felix’s body, feeling his smile in the kiss, only for him to grasp your hands tenderly and settle them on his shoulders, breaking the kiss and quickly hiding in the crook of your neck.
“I’ve been waiting so long to kiss you that if you do something else I really believe you could kill me,” he mentioned against your neck, his breathing tickling you as much as the soft strokes of his hands on your waist.
You laughed teasingly, feeling how he also laughed silently, his chest vibrating under you.
As revenge for making him lose, which he hadn’t totally forgotten yet, he pinned you to the floor, forgetting the cards, the game and how late it was for him to have practice tomorrow and still be awake as he started tickling you and pampering you with kisses because you were finally in his arms.
And when you didn’t care what could happen the following morning or how would you manage to get him out of your room so no one could see him exiting, as it wasn’t something too serious for the members to tell them right away; the fact that he was able to wake up next to you, the realization hit him, knowing that that’s what he wanted his future to be…
+4
And your answer would always be a reverse.
soft hours!
~Kats, who uses UNO as a way of existing, included flirting (just sometimes, with certain someones lol)
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The Seven Deadly Sins when they give hugs
Idk what this is i can’t lie
Meliodas
-Firm hugger. Very tight squeeze
-Hugs his friends if he knows they need it “Bring it in big guy”
-Will hug in public but loves to proper snuggle in private
-If someone he doesn’t know hugs him he’ll just stand there pokerfaced
-He’s very warm being a demon with fire abilities so he’s nice to lay on
-Always initiates group hugs between all the sins
-Only gropes when other people are around as a territorial thing. When he’s alone he will go all soppy.
Diane
-SHE IS SO CUDDLY
-Publicly, privately she is not afraid to snuggle!!!
-She hugs everyone while greeting them. She also loves to kiss everyone on the cheeks platonically.
-When she is big she likes to put smaller people on her neck or shoulder and let them koala onto her, or hold them to her face so they can cup it.
-She also loves holding people in her big hands
-When she’s small she loves to still use her giant strength to pick people up and twirl them.
-She hugs King a lot because he’s so small and smells so fruity
Ban
-Not a hugger in public but in private?
-He will be the little spoon but not if you ask him to. Only if you “coincidentally fall into that position” while hugging. He won’t admit he likes it either
-He loves having his hair stroked or stroking other people’s hair
-He hugs Meliodas all the time when drunk but coincidentally forgets it when he sobers up.
-If you run up to him and hug him he’ll probably pat your head or back
-Before Elaine was revived he would hug a pillow and pretend it was her
King
-Denies being a hugger but he LOVES THEM
-He’s very awkward and doesn’t know what to do if he’s being hugged. Like where does he put his hands?
-It also depends on how close he is to the person hugging him. If he knows them very well he’s very confident on what to do but if he’s not well acquainted with them he’ll be apprehensive
-Imagining Diane forcing him to hug Howzer. The most awkward bro hug ever.
-He is very soft and warm and his clothes always smell very fresh.
-May revert to old man form and repel whoever is hugging him.
Gowther
-Pre getting his memories and emotions he’s very uncomfortable to cuddle. He doesn’t know when to let go and can’t naturally figure out what to do with himself
-He will pat your head and go “pat pat” and simply wrap his arms around you in a way that either is too light to be a good hug or too firm that you nearly die from lack of oxygen
-When he does get his emotions back though he is SUCH A HUGGER
-He’s not particularly comfy to lay on and snuggle but that look on his face makes it worth enduring
-He will hug EVERYONE if he is feeling excited!!! A little ball of energy
-He still doesn’t quite understand the appropriate times to hug someone and the intensity it should be so he’ll just be like “HAI BAN GOOD MORNING :3” and rugby tackle him into a cuddle thinking it was a normal human greeting
Merlin
-Doesn’t necessarily hate hugging just doesn’t do it frequently
-She hugs more out of comfort more than simply because she can
-If she needs comforting she’ll stand outside Meliodas and Elizabeth’s room in the doorframe like the “mum i just threw up” meme and wait for Elizabeth to initiate the hug
-She does privately like a good hug. Sometimes she’ll get somebody (probably Escanor) to come into her lab and let her sit in his lap while she does her research “for science”
-Probably conjures up a tamed demonic beast to cuddle on the down low so that nobody sees her vulnerable
Escanor
-Once again an awkward man. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself
-Although he is less awkward than King because hugging is a human custom he grew up with whereas King just sort of found out it was a thing one day
-He does love cuddling but he has to be close to the people/person doing it otherwise he gets quite flustered
-Definitely cuddles a pillow at night to help him fall asleep
-Probably very touch starved.
Elizabeth
-Loves cuddling other girls. With boys it feels awkward to her but girls? Just feels natural
-She doesn’t even flinch when Meliodas gropes her mid hug anymore because she just expects it, although she hates it and wishes she could have just one moment of intimacy with him which doesn’t get sexual
-She does like to hug Gowther too though. She just finds him very sweet once he got his emotions back and sees him like a little boy.
-She’s very motherly towards her friends and as soon as she sees them struggling she cuddles them and gets the whatever they need
-Hugs are just very natural to her (because unlike everyone else she has Bartra and was loved as a child oop-)
Elaine
-Doesn’t quite understand the human hype of cuddling
-Thinks it’s something between family and lovers and that’s all
-When someone else cuddles her that’s not Ban or King she gets confused but will put a hand on their back and comfort them anyway
-She does love hugging animals though. She’ll hug Hawk and Oslow a lot and will pick up random cats she sees in the streets (much to the cats dismay)
-She loves hugging Ban because he’s so much larger than her and she loves being Engulfed by Large Man
I hope you guys are having a great day 💙
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Ok SO Crowley Request coming in! Could you please write something were Reader shows affection through physical touch and has a habit of like, hugging her brothers from behind when they sit or just hugging Castiel whenever they see each other and just doesn’t need an excuse in general to cuddle the people she likes. And once she‘s seen Crowley a few times she starts greeting him with a hug too and he responds cheeky to kinda brush over the fact that hes caught off guard and kinda likes it? And maybe then eventually she has a breakdown because she doesn’t feel good enough or useful at all and he comforts her with physical touch cause he knows that thats her preferred love language? Id love for Reader to be kind and sweet like in that ‚to make a Deal’ Request. Sorry it’s such a long Request!!
Oh no worries! I like this!💖 I hope I get the reader well! It reminds me of that time in season 12 when Crowley got hugged and was just SHOCKED XD
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Even The King of Hell Deserves Hugs
You love to hug people from your own brothers to Castiel. Even Crowley cannot escape your physical touch, but when push comes to shove, he realizes how important it is.
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You knew who he was, but it didn’t matter to you. In your eyes, he was an ally like Castiel despite your brothers’ dislike of him. Crowley has helped you guys plenty of times, even if he denies it. So after getting to see him a few times, you decided it was alright to do your signature thing.
You see, physical touch is a big thing for you. 
Hugs are how you show a lot of your affection. Touching another person just brings such comfort to you. Sam and Dean love your hugs, Sam immediately trying to hug you back while Dean pretends like he wants you to stop touching him even though he is smiling. Castiel soon grew to except your hugs, even though it frightens him sometimes.
“Sam, what are you up to?” You asked as you walked into the bunker’s library where Sam was sitting at the table with his laptop. As you walked over you hugged him from behind, nuzzling your head against his. He lightly chuckled at your actions.
“I’m trying to find some proof on the existence of incubi. Dean says they aren’t real.” Sam explained and before you could explain the man himself walks into the room.
“Because I only want the female sex demons to lure me to bed and kill me. I don’t the swing the other way.” Dean said with a shudder as he walked into the room with Castiel close behind.
“What were you up to?” You asked your other brother before letting go of Sam and coming to hug Dean.
“Just showing Cas some memes-”
“I don’t see why it’s necessary.” The angel interrupted but Dean kept talking.
“-because he needs to get up to speed with people’s sense of humor. It’s starting to get embarrassing.” Dean finished his explanation, causing Castiel to give him an offensive look as you moved to hug the angel next.
“Cas! It’s always so good to see you.” You said, but he still squeaked when you hugged him, taking a few seconds before hugging you back. He was still growing used to your sudden affections, especially since he’s rarely hugged in his life.
Speaking of rarely hugged...
“Hello boys.” The familiar accent ran through the bunker like a chilling wind. All eyes were on Crowley and Dean just groaned.
“Man! Who left the warding down?” He asked angrily. You, Sam, and Castiel just looked at him in confusion.
“You.” They all said and Dean just cursed under his breath before sitting at the table with a pout. Crowley made some comment about how it was nice to see him too. Sam just sighed before looking at the demon.
“Crowley, what do you want?” He asked as politely as he could. You moved from Castiel to eye him. Crowley was standing at the head of the table dressed in all black like usual.
Not having the slightest clue about what you were about to do.
“I wanted to know if you had any-what is she doing?” Crowley’s dark and intimidating voice immediately changed to confusion with a hint of fear as the topic drastically changed. You had moved over while he was talking to give him a hug, something you typically do once you feel comfortable with them.
“Um...didn’t know I was so special.” Crowley said cheekily with one of those smiles that seem unintentional, like he can’t help it. But it disappeared quickly when he saw all the boys staring at him.
“Really Y/N? Him? Why?” Dean accused you as you released the man in black. You gave Crowley a slight smile as he was still trying to comprehend what just happened and how he felt about it.
“It’s just how I greet people Dean. You know that. Even Crowley deserves hugs.” You told him while folding your arms and shrugging.
“Yeah, but he’s not people.” The older Winchester retorted. Normally, Crowley would’ve had something to refute that with, but he was so caught off guard by your sudden gesture of affection that he didn’t have any words at the ready. Perhaps he kind of...No.
No. He doesn’t like it. He can’t like it. You’re a Winchester.
“Well...until next time.” Crowley was quick to clear his throat to brush away any thoughts that he could possibly have. 
“Wait, didn’t you have something-and he’s gone.” Sam started to say as Crowley dematerialized from the room like he was never there to begin with. You expected the cheekiness and slight discomfort from him, but you never expected to catch that small smile. It made you feel all warm inside, and it made you reach a decision no matter if your brothers liked it or not.
Crowley needed more hugs, and good thing it was your favorite gesture to give.
Every time he appeared before you guys, you would greet him with a hug. And every time, Crowley would give you some cheeky response that would result in Dean nearly killing him. But little did you know, he was doing that to hide his own feelings. Crowley was the King of Hell, and the King of Hell cannot like hugs.
Yet, he loved receiving them from you. Perhaps he has grown soft.
He now realizes there are times he comes to you guys and doesn’t even need anything. Crowley just wanted to receive your hug, that greeting you give to people that you deem you care about. The demon didn’t understand how that could be possible in his case, but he was grateful. It became like a drug to him, something that he needed from you even if he could never return it.
So, when he sensed that the bunker’s warding was off, he appeared.
“Hello...boys?” Crowley was surprised to find no one in the room when he showed up. And it was quiet. Way too quiet.
“Moose?” He called out while walking around a bit.
“Squirrel?” He then tried, looking behind things. Crowley knew that they weren’t always here, but something in the air felt off.
“Kitten?” Crowley then called out his nickname for you. Something he adopted after a couple hugs when he struggled to come up with words. It was then that his ears picked up the sound of someone crying.
And since it sounded like a woman, he grew worried. Even more so when it led to your door.
“Y/N...” Crowley didn’t even know his voice was capable of being so soft when he saw you curled up at the foot of your bed, looking sadder than he’s ever seen you. Crowley was used to you being so friendly and sweet, so whatever made you so sad, he was going to find it and kill it. 
But you must really feel down because Crowley didn’t receive his welcome hug.
“Crowley...what are you doing here?” Gosh, you even sounded awful, and your tear-stained eyes made his shriveled heart twist in a weird way. 
“Never mind that...what happened to you?” He asked while approaching you gently, however, his question just caused you to tear up again as you hugged your knees and buried your face in them as you cried. Crowley crouched beside you and hesitated a bit before placing a hand on your back, patting gently.
“There...there...” He said with an uncomfortable look on his face, not used to this. 
After a while, you did compose yourself enough to explain why you were so upset. Apparently, Sam and Dean went on a hunt without you, a werewolf or something. Whatever it was, it was bad. But what really hurt you is that they took Cas with them instead of you. You’ve been hunting way longer than the angel has, and you didn’t care if he was practically immortal. Experience is where it counts. You told him that because of that, it made you feel just awful.
“It’s like I’m not good enough...not strong enough to help them. I mean, I always kind of felt like that...but this proves it.” You ended with your voice choking up on more tears as your shoulders shook. Crowley truly did feel bad for you. As was said, you were too kind to be treated like that.
But as much as he wanted to get involved, he didn’t want to make you more upset. Instead, Crowley did something that he’s never done before.
He hugged you.
It was awkward and not quite right, his arms being kind of lopsided, but he was trying his best. Crowley knew you were one for action and not words. Physical touch is what spoke to you, and if that was going to make you feel comfort, he was damn well going to try.
“Crowley...what are you doing?” You said in a muffled tone as his arm was kind of in your face.
“Hugging...you?” He said in uncertainly, also unsure of what he was doing. It was enough to almost make you cry again, but not out of sadness. They say demons have no feelings, but Crowley was going through such levels of discomfort to make you feel better. He could’ve lectured you, told you how great you were, or went to confront the boys. But instead, he stayed and hugged you because he knew that’s what you loved.
“Thank you...” You said softly through your sore throat as you maneuvered yourself to hug him better. Crowley tensed slightly, but for the first time, he kept his arms around you as you guys basically cuddled.
“Always kitten...I’m here for you...” Crowley struggled to say it, but this was also the first time that a hug didn’t lead to a cheeky comment. You were in too much of an emotional state for him to do that. 
He even moved to grab your hand, shocking you more.
“I know how much touch means to you...and I’m starting to see why. The feeling it gives...makes me so happy.” Crowley confessed, looking away from you to gain enough confidence to even say it. Instead of responding, you just hugged him tighter.
“You’re amazing...A hug can’t express how grateful I am that you are here...” You said while nuzzling into his shoulder. Crowley smirked and resisted the urge to chuckle as he held you tighter.
“I’m not amazing, Y/N...I’m Crowley.”
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I was looking up music and I heard the song "hug me" (the one in the animation memes) and I couldnt help but think of an au where Phoenix needs to act in a movie for a mission with John Juniper and Juniper gets attached (phoenix is internally screaming)
Juniper is an actor.
World famous, critically acclaimed for his appearances in movies like “Spying the Liar” and “Marigolds are forever,” near-universally beloved and one of the best of his craft in the entire world - at least, if you were to ask him.
Though if you did actually ask him, he would, of course, put it a little more delicately.
The point is, Juniper knows acting, knows body language and cadence and what they can mean, has perfected his ability to pretend, to immerse himself in a role - he’s learned just about everything there is about acting and honed it to perfection. Not that he actually has to give his all most of the time, nowadays. Even a sloppy attempt seems to be enough for most.
Still, he tries, because what kind of actor would he be if he didn’t actually put in the effort? (Though few things were worthy of his real A-game.)
He’s getting off track again. Where was he? Oh, yes -
There is an actor on set that he does not recognise.
A minor part at best (though he knows that there’s not really such a thing as a “small” role, really - they’re all integral making a movie what it is), with no spoken lines, which seems to be perfectly suited to them, as they don’t speak. At least, not as far as he’s heard.
And they’re new. A last minute addition, he’s told - the previous actor got sick or something, and they were brought on to fill the gap. For some reason.
They’re reclusive, and quiet, avoiding interacting with anyone they don’t need to, and when they speak they speak in sign language rather than aloud - though as far as he can tell they show no indicators of being deaf.
He’s not sure what catches his attention about them besides the fact that they showed up so late into production, but he doesn’t usually pay attention to people enough to notice such things.
Still, he finds himself watching them as subtly as he can.
He sees their eyes dart around the room, and them sneaking off when people aren’t looking to snoop around the building.
He sees the way their eyes go unfocused sometimes as they tilt their head every so slightly, as if listening to something nobody else can hear.
He can tell they aren’t who they say they are, as if reading them like an open book.
They move silently, as though accustomed to sneaking constantly. They rarely startle, aware of their surroundings at all times, and when someone does manage to get the jump on them he can see as their hand twitches as if they’d been about to turn around and hit the guy, before their body language immediately becomes relaxed.
Despite clearly not being accustomed to the whole process, they’re a pretty good actor, blending into the background seamlessly.
These are all suspicious things, but not something he’d be particularly invested in usually. He’s far too busy - he’d probably just pass along a message to security or someone who could handle it better.
But this movie’s production is proving to be dreadfully boring, and he finds himself watching them more than he’d like to admit.
Which is how he catches them narrowly sidestepping a heavy piece of equipment falling right where they’d been just a moment ago, which would’ve surely severely hurt if not outright killed them, and instead of looking shocked or afraid he watches their eyes narrow and snap upwards.
Their gaze flicks back and forth for a few seconds before apparently spotting something, and looking upwards himself he catches a flicker of movement. His mind races for a moment.
There’d been someone up there, where the piece of equipment had been. Looking back down at the thing itself, he spots… loose screws.
Sabotage? A murder attempt? On his set? But… why? Why this random filler actor, rather than, say, him?
His train of thought halts suddenly as he catches the actor in question disappear into the crowd, using the tumult caused by the fall to slip away unnoticed, no doubt in pursuit of the strange fellow who’d just tried to kill them.
Juniper, swept up in the mystery of it, doesn’t even stop to think about it before he’s pushing after them.
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etapereine · 3 months
Text
wondering (are you my best friend?)
@cycleprompttuesday: "friendship"
also on ao3
you needs to make friends, they say. it will help. it will make you more likeable.
you think:
wout, wrapping you in the biggest and warmest hug you've ever felt after a climb that made you feel like you were dying, squeezing the back of your neck and calling you “little guy” with eyes crinkled in a smile, sending you photos of jerome in a little yellow jersey
nathan, sitting on his bed in your shared hotel room as you unwind from the race in companionable silence, laughing and joking to raise your spirits during another interminable sprint stage, calling you with a soft voice and reassuring words from a hospital bed when your world is falling apart
sepp, talking your ear off about this or that with bright eyes and animated hands and american phrases that you don’t understand, rubbing your back as you slump exhaustedly over your handlebars after a stage, begging you to come to andorra to visit “even though you’ll take all my koms”
not like that, they say. those are your teammates. that’s different.
you think:
michael, grinning at you across the counter at the fish factory before flicking cold water in your face, ruffling your hair and buying you a beer to celebrate your first professional contract, calling you after you win the tour the first time to brag about having noticed you first
mads, cursing up a storm on live tv but making you smile brighter than the sun, one arm around your back and whispering stupid jokes to you on the balcony in front of half a million people, showing up on your doorstep unannounced with a case of beer and an easy grin
mattias, cocking an eyebrow and challenging you to race to the top of yet another swiss mountain, outdrinking all of you on a night when strictly speaking you shouldn’t be drinking at all, laughing at your hair and tugging on it where it sticks out the slats of your helmet
not like that, they say. those are your countrymen. that’s different.
you think:
tadej, smiling and laughing and fistbumping at every starting line, texting you after every win to congratulate you and to promise another battle, practically begging you to come to lombardia, to flanders, to la flèche wallonne because “we will have fun, won’t we?”
remco, joking with you before each stage and pretending to throw his bike as you cross the line, texting you weird memes in dutch that you don't understand but laugh at anyway, at the after-party taking ridiculous drunken selfies that should never see the light of day
primož, inviting you to come to monaco "just like old times, eh?", slapping you on the back with a genuine smile and promising not to go easy on you in july, greeting you at the starting line with a quick grin and an eyebrow raised in challenge
not like that, they say. those are your rivals. that’s different.
you think:
different from what?
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