#but I gotta finish something unrelated and then story time!!!

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(Hey just gonna call myself a shy theorist to differentiate from the other anons)

So based on what we currently know of Pep's possible past and the newly added content warnings, here's my theory. (That might as well be it's own story. I did not realize that I would write this much. Feel free to idk screen shot or copy this ask and put it under a read more)

So, Bruno, he's an anxious Italian man who runs his own pizzeria with his spouse. He's pretty content with life, his business is doing okay and he's in a pretty good relationship. Life was good.

Then came Pizza Head.

So Pizza Head comes and he goes on about striking a deal or whatever to get the place for himself. Bruno refuses, it's their passion. It's both of their dreams to own and run a pizzeria. They would never do it.

Pizza Head (to everyones surprise) leaves.

And for a while nothing much happens, except one day his spouse goes missing.

He's just straight up panicking, there's no note, no anything. Why would they leave him?

Days, weeks, maybe even months pass, but even after the authorities are called and he's spent many long hours searching, he couldn't find them.

His thoughts at that point are... well let's just say they're not exactly good. Part of him blames himself for it. The other part suspects Pizza Head, but it's not like he can find him.

His pizzeria is pretty much in shambles, he hasn't been taking care of himself, and he's... close to giving up.

So perfect time for Pizza Head to come right back.

He makes a different deal. Tells Bruno that he knows where his spouse is and would lead him exactly to where they are only if Bruno gives him his pizzeria.

He agrees.

He goes to this strange tower with him. Up an elevator. To find... an exact replica of his pizzeria in this tower?

At that point he's uneasy, but still reluctantly follows him into the pizzeria.

He sees their silhouette and runs to them.

Only to realize a bit too late that he's been tricked. Lied to.

They've been dead this whole time.

And he's too shocked with grief to realize what happens next.

Pizza Head kills him.

...

Well, he can't say it wasn't worth it. The business was pretty good while it lasted, but there's competition.

Some other Italian guy opened up a place close to his tower.

And maybe you're asking why he doesn't just do the same thing? Maybe even just kill the guy, no giant lazer required.

Look, doing the same thing to this guy would be pretty boring.

So he decides to have some fun.

Besides, he needs a use for that body and that whole pizzeria in the fourth floor.

They surprisingly have a lot in common. Maybe he can play around with that.

Good thing most of his body's intact.

(So yeah Pizza Head makes a copy of Peppino using Bruno's body as a base of sorts, which explains the memories and stuff)

(So Pep is mostly Bruno's body with a mix of different animals' DNA, mostly because he kinda ran out of stuff and had to substitute a bit.)

(Everything else in his brain was taught to him, the backwards speech is there mostly as a precaution because if the clone somehow has the original's memories then he'll be in huge trouble, so making him unable to be understood would keep him from telling, plus the added bonus of backwards speech being creepy in general helps in making him even scarier.)

(Oough, that's so sad!!! Loosing everything he's got and then some!!!

Once again, I do not confirm or deny anything, but oh boy, you guys are so talented with these!!

Sorry I don't have much to add or doodles this time, but thank you for sharing!!!)

#ooc post #theory post #probably last ooc for now my brain zoomies have stopped finally #but I gotta finish something unrelated and then story time!!! #might get more Pep lore??!?! #death // #death mention //

[valorxdrive]

Gotta speak my truth.

A reason why the passion has dwindled on this blog, why I've sought other avenues. It hasn't really been the drought of content as much as the issue in what's already here. In short, it's the new angle of SQ's direction with the KH series that leaves me uncertain.

It all begins with a game called KH3, moreso, how it really feels like it was a title that didn't care about itself in terms of a grand finale or the fans who wanted a solid conclusion before a new chapter.

I genuinely dislike it with a whole lot of my heart.

I'll dip into why down below! Stick around for the ride if ya like.

I've sat here across the years genuinely contemplating it. Seeing people heavily defend it (myself too at one point), though who abhorred it for seeing things sooner (or just took it too far.) Had discussion with friends and it truly clicked to me what bothered me so much with the KH3 title.

It genuinely does not give a fuck. In a bizarre way, this is the first time I've seen a video game, even with it's complicated history that's just so utterly prepared to be finished with itself.

What struck me the most about this is how done it was with dealing with Xehanort as an antagonist. Bringing no connection with him to the worlds, or to the main cast, how he was simply relegated to the hurdle that had to be surpassed. This in kind extends to the heroes dealing with him too, that remains connected. So that brings the question, what did warrant all of their attention?

Verum Rex and Union X. Two aspects which are vividly 'new'-, the more exciting, new grounds to no longer have to bring concerns with the current epic that was being made.

The way these things were shoo'd in at the expense of the characters and the wonder of the KH world really miffs me. So much of the actual effort was made in turning KH3 into a springboard FOR these concepts, the new beginning and it allows for the keyblade war to be entrenched in a piss poor execution.

Another aspect I'd love to really dive on, being a Sora blog, is Sora's particular journey. This holds a firm eye towards the Disney worlds and mixing it with the cast of characters in there, and the KH originals. You can entirely omit the Disney journey and have literally nothing change. From the moment you hop from Yen Sid's tower, to the moment you go and save Aqua, this part of the game from the story perspective is entirely pointless. To those who care about the story. To those who CARE about disney 1 for 1's (like singing Let it go in new graphics fml), who are more concerned about the shiny new Verum Rex (vs XIII reboot) or the perspective of the Union X things, it'd be a fine enough meal.

I want to actually dig into why however. It's a simple angle, they don't care about his current goals in lieu of bringing shiny new worlds in akin to jingling car keys. The goal of finding a means to bring Roxas back, and in order to draw back the Power of Waking that found itself lost in DDD.

Both of these don't require external adventures. It needs insight, it needs the retracting of old grounds, and I'm damn sure that the perspective of Disney was not going to allow for that. So on this front unless a heavy push was warranted, I genuinely wouldn't of seen it changing. How are you going to find clues for Roxas in Arendelle for example?

Unless Sora has more Heart related ventures after each world, what in the fuck was this roaming going to do to unlock the power of waking again? A journey to find something important in KH is usually coupled by heavy character development, a way they come to re-look at how they see the surrounding world, their situation and themselves. The fact that a completely unrelated situation from Sora, despite his caring nature was the trigger to unlocking this.

For Ventus's disembodied heart to say it was always there was a pitchfork through the heart of this.

The fact that they've always said that recovering this power was essential for saving Aqua, when you literally can hop in and kick her butt, prompt no connection of ripping corruption away or anything via the Power of Waking says more than enough. You genuinely see that by the end of a lot of main cast characters being nods to the audience, or bots made for exposition, they've outright abandoned these concepts before your eyes.

I genuinely could continue on but this has become bloated.

For the journey for the current cast, the premise of KH3 is perfect as an adventure and inevitable showdown, but the execution is atrocious (the raw lack of opposing parties facing each other, showcasing the threat of Xehanort set to end all reality), and would genuinely require an entire game overhaul. Again, the execution. This extends to so much of the story decisions, to a LOT of the gameplay (whole dif can of worms) on top of that. I've really needed to recognize this and really have my genuinely lens set on it, no other opinions diluting my opinion on the matter.

I can understand why people who KH3 has the laughing stock/joke of the series.

Recognizing this has felt refreshing to me. It gives me a more distinct image that down the line, I really don't mind taking a canon divergent perspective at all. The mythos of KH and so much it has built is a fever dream of the best proportions, I however, genuinely want to carry on that I tenderly love which has always been the try and true flame of this series. I won't let nostalgia blind me, nor the ~future excitement~ either.

My nostalgia and my value as a fan is worth something to me. Nomura and co genuinely have to begin cooking again for me to gamble in that corner again.

#| OOC Musings #| Negative #bruh I needed to get this off my chest #it's taken a hot minute and #really disconnecting from social spheres to really get my own opinion set #I love that I have #KH is a boundless potential series and that's what I'll strive for #Just not by the disrespect this installment (and a pinch of DDD) has given me

[cuubism]

If you don't mind me asking - what do you think Dream's attitude/reaction towards Tolkien's works (including the legendarium!) would be? (I'm asking a lot of Sandman bloggers this, because I'm extremely curious regarding your takes on this.)

oh! hang on i gotta brush up on my tolkien because i haven't actually read any of the books since like. 2011.

i guess my main thought would be about how dream missed like, 95% of his work when he was stuck in his Jar. my understanding (read: google search) is that tolkien was building up the mythology for his stories before 1916 (when dream was captured), but most of it was not finished/published until a while after.

(this became an insane and mostly unrelated rant i am so so sorry)

i think a lot about how much of his own... area of work and power dream missed when he was trapped. the 20th century, generally speaking, was a time of rapid growth in storytelling methods and media more generally. dream missed almost all of radio, particularly radio as it became a medium for stories. radio was invented in the late 1890s but didn't see a proper rise into a storytelling medium, rather than mainly a direct communication one, until around the 30s. so dream missed the creation and growth of the first, i guess you would call it, networked storytelling, and technological storytelling, and what was... probably? the biggest return to an auditory type of storytelling since the original oral tradition, folk tales, great epics etc, for radio at its peak of cultural relevance (at least in the US and probably the ""West"" more generally, alas i can't speak as knowledgeably for other parts of the world, obviously plenty of other parts of the world had radio in the early 20th century and onward, but i don't know much about its use as a fictional storytelling medium versus for news and government broadcasts. something to look into! part of why radio became such a medium in the usa was because of our rampant capitalism and commercialism lol, so less capitalistic places might have approached it differently - here, advertisers wanted to figure out a way to monetize radio better, but obviously people aren't going to just listen to hours of ads, so they packaged them around stories, live music performances, and variety shows. that's where soap operas as a form come from -- they were originally sponsored by soap companies! also serials, though of course books have also been serialized in the past. and sponsored radio programs also birthed the sort of episodic comedies that eventually evolved into the half hour TV comedies we know today)

which also means - as a direct result of missing radio, dream also missed the rise of television as a medium - it grew directly out of radio, even the big networks we know today, CBS, NBC, and ABC were originally radio networks. television has ended up being a huge change in visual storytelling, not only in its inception, but especially in its more recent years - it's probably the only long-form audiovisual storytelling medium, which is something that didn't really exist before. huge shift in storytelling possibilities. he also missed the development of comic books, and the internet, and the resulting increased accessibility of art and storytelling to both artists and art lovers. he missed an absolutely huge, HUGE shift in the democratization of art and the ability to share it. and, once again, the development of totally new methods of storytelling in the form of internet video! not to even mention the accessibility of MUSIC, music recording and sharing was still in its infancy when dream was imprisoned and now you can get, and make, and share pretty much any music imaginable! and the new genres! and the intermediality of everything and the cross-cultural awareness!

this is not even getting into the new ease of photography, or film, which was also relatively new in 1916. imagine going into a coma when there were only silent films, and waking up to everyone and their mother making tiktoks. the last film you saw was one of chaplin's or something and then you come back and see interstellar in imax 3d. i think i'd explode. (dream would love film, too, it's very dreamlike)

dream returning to the waking world in 2022 and immediately having the entirety of tiktok beamed directly into his head:

(another thing i think about a lot but won't get into because i'm already rambling - hob witnessing the entire development of accessible writing from the printing press to fucking social media. insanity. i want to pick his brain on it

what pushed hob over the edge, do you think. what's the one thing he saw written online that briefly made him regret ever getting involved in printing at all and wish everyone was illiterate again. it was not porn, btw, mr. monsterfucker gadling can handle anything, ok. no, it was something much worse...)

anyway. rambling over. this is all to say that i am not a tolkien expert and haven't read much of his stuff anywhere recently - though i was quite obsessed with it in middle/high school - so my main thought is in relation to dream getting cut off from all of these great stories. it must have been like, to put it flippantly, your favorite tv show getting cancelled halfway through after a cliffhanger XD. he has all these stories from great storytellers - tolkien included - storytellers who are building their whole own worlds in his realm, storytellers he's nurturing and supporting in his own way - and gets ripped away from them. and when he returns, they're all gone.

here's hoping someone who knows more about tolkien can give you an answer more specifically relevant to that. that's all i got for now 😂

#never get me started talking about media history. then again i kinda started myself on it this time #thanks for the ask! sorry for the lack of relevant answer lol #dream of the endless #tolkien #hamelin-born #ask #i think dream would actually like tiktok after he got over the sheer volume of existing content lol #like i feel like the endlessness and interconnectedness of the internet is similar to how it already feels in his mind #media history #belatedly thinking AGAIN about all the stuff dream missed like all of the cultural changes? the story genres? the new poetry and new style? #NEW ART MOVEMENTS? THE MOVEMENTS HE MISSED. DREAM MISSED FUCKING SURREALISM THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE IT WAS LITERALLY INSPIRED BY HIM #all the subcultures of story and art creation he missed. i'm gonna lose it actually

[nerves-nebula]

being suicidal is pretty funny sometimes. pretty much everyone in my family who doesn't die of cancer dies by suicide. got all my matrilineal grandmas for the past like 200 years, plus mom's dad, an uncle, a cousin on my dad's side, etc. mom's tried before. people in my family love to kill themselves it's like our one uniting pastime transcending all politics and opinions. me n my siblings all have that mental illness mental hospital patient swag too but i got on meds that work seven years ago and i've been golden since. written a bunch of fiction about characters dealing with generational curses and suicidality and chronic pain and grief. have had people tell me that those stories saved them and/or gave them strength at extremely dark times in their lives.

which is awesome except now my immune system has started trying to kill me, i guess as a punishment for not ending things when i was 15. which is making me suicidal for the first time in ages. but this time it's for extremely reasonable reasons of, like, 'you can only lose so much of your brain function and ability to move and capacity for pain before it's just simple logic to die about it.' got an OC i project alla that on so i can write it when i can write, which is hit-or-miss due to the aforementioned brain function stuff, but it's like. NOW if i kill myself everyone who was helped by my writing is gonna think it was all a lie and that life really is hopeless bc if i couldn't escape the generational curse then why should they, and it's just. like. no guys i SWEAR i meant it and still do mean it. it's still relevant for you. i am just dying for reasons that are completely unrelated. chill out

anyway i'm not allowed to die by suicide OR by autoimmune disease because i too have been forbidden by my life partners, & it would actually ruin their lives if i did, so i'm not in danger or anything. most of the time i'm very well-adjusted and coping excellently. and i hope you're taking care of yourself as well. it's just like DAMN. i really gotta fight EVERY GODDAMN DAY for the next SIXTY YEARS?? EVERY GODDAMN DAY?? AM I NOT ALLOWED ONE FUCKING BREAK,

man that sucks ASS. i mean. it's like kind of funny that your entire family lineage appears to be fucking cursed. but in a "god that sucks" kind of way not a "haha" way.

NOW if i kill myself everyone who was helped by my writing is gonna think it was all a lie and that life really is hopeless bc if i couldn't escape the generational curse then why should they, and it's just. like. no guys i SWEAR i meant it and still do mean it. it's still relevant for you. i am just dying for reasons that are completely unrelated. chill out

anyway i'm not allowed to die by suicide OR by autoimmune disease because i too have been forbidden by my life partners, & it would actually ruin their lives if i did, so i'm not in danger or anything.

these are hella fuckin relatable. the main reasons i cant kms are

girlfriend would be so sad :(

it means i wasted ppls money sending me to college

if i kms then who will finish my comics???? who will talk casually about incest on this damn webbed site???

i often describe it as less of wanting to kms and more like i want a break from life. like a nice coma or something. or the ability to skip over periods of time. UNFORTUNATELY i must SUFFER to LIVE. SAD oh well guess I'll embrace the good and bad the world has to offer, as if I have a CHOICE!!

#nnstuff #ask #suicide tw #incest tw #<- just a mention but still #asks are sweethearts #but yeah being suicidal is pretty funny

[lenievi]

I think one problem I have and need to overcome when it comes to writing fanfics is that I’m hesitant to have characters show raw emotions, especially when they don’t in the source material because - even when it makes sense in my head and it makes sense in the story, at least imho - I feel like it would be ooc

that once I wrote a character doing something and asked someone if they would react this way and I was told “no” is probably a part of that too... thinking about it, a lot of the words this person said over the time, even unrelated to my writing, was quite damaging to the way I think about my writing because a lot of the time they just confirmed my worst fears about how people would react about certain things

I think writing stories with mainly Kirk and McCoy together helped me overcome some of that stuff (and also many people over the last two years commenting that they like my characterization, but I tend to always forget about those comments when I’m in the middle of writing...), because I don’t read tos!Kirk fics, so there’s literally no template I have to follow (and writing my The Conscience of the King missing scene and having people react positively, and no one being like “how dare you not follow Tarsus fanon or whatever” was also a positive experience that I hope will make the next thing I write easier to write)

but trying to write McCoy in romantic situations is always so ??? because in the show he’s either uncomfortable (Nancy, Natira) or I want to forget it ever happened because it makes me feel second-hand embarrassment and makes me uncomfortable (Barrows), so I’m slowly coming to the conclusion that when he is serious, he holds back and needs the other person to make advances, but when he’s not he’s just performing*, but I digress lol But the thing is that because I do read a lot of fics with McCoy, it’s hard to just write him without thinking, and with Kirk, it’s much easier

* although I guess this is the reason I always have Spock coming after McCoy lol

The problem is that it’s hard to get Kirk and McCoy together when both of them hold back LMAO (gotta write that fake dating to get them properly together)

on the other hand, I think there might also be some weird internalized ageism going on because sometimes I catch myself thinking that I could imagine aos!mc/k behaving in a certain way but not tos!mc/k but there’s literally zero reasons why the tos pair shouldn’t act that way too, so I need to work on that too. But as always, it isn’t even the problem of me imagining it, but mostly “what will others think” 

... but maybe with me also trying to draw stuff and not posting everything, I might convince myself to just try and write for myself, that there’s no need that others need to see it if I end up unsure about it after it’s finished

another thing that drawing taught me is that it’s okay to just stop after sketching something lightly, so it should also be okay to stop just after writing a random scene. a picture doesn’t need to be finished or perfect for me to feel good about it. a fic shouldn’t need to be plotty or long for me to feel happy about it. it doesn’t need to have a beginning or an end. it can just be three paragraphs. 

anyway idk what this is. it’s a mess, but I needed to work some things out. I’m gonna take a walk now and think about my next fic~

#leni's nonsense

[anotherprojectsekai-nah]

■□■□■□■□■

Varieties of Interests for Dreams unlike - DARK STEAL (Main Story) Part 9

■□■□■□■□■

When one has a desire, it comes with a dream, and within that dream is ideally a reason. It varies based on the person themselves. But what if that reason is beyond expected?

Previous Part - Next Part

...

(Local Library)

Kuro: "Ok, now to wait for the printed paper.."

Kuro: "While at it, you 2 look for any possible connections with the divorce and murder."

Aqua: "...With him?"

Kuro: "Yes, I'm going to ask the librarian for an access to any possible information disclosed and check them."

Aqua: "Right.."

Step, step, step

Aqua: "..."

Aqua: "...So, it's just the 2 of us now."

Swank: "Yup."

Aqua: "With finding connections."

Swank: "Yeah."

Aqua: "Which are you skilled in?"

Swank: "..Kind of."

Aqua: "Kind of? But didn't I hear from him that he said that you were formerly a peacekeeper?"

Swank: "I was."

Swank: "But that was because of something from the past."

Aqua: "...Well, there was that."

Swank: "What about you? You were said to be an actor."

Aqua: "Yes, I first acted in a low cost movie for supposedly a horror movie as a kid."

Aqua: "Which can also explain my way to finding the truth is to lie and search. Keep things all secretive."

Swank: "I see."

Aqua: "Though we should think on how all of those 3 things relate to each other."

Aqua: "The only connection that can be come up is that the divorce happened after the manipulated murder, aka Kiritaka Nagare's passing."

Swank: "Right, and the cause of his death was by jumping off and then getting hit by a truck."

Aqua: "Then the reason of it was by the manipulation caused by someone or something, but who or what were they?"

Aqua: "..Oh, the papers finished printing."

Swank: "Well, let's check the information and see how they relate and see the connection then."

Aqua: "Now... Who's information should we check 1st?"

Swank: "I suggest the victim's. They better have something good on this."

Aqua: "Ok, let's check Kiritaka's first."

Aqua: "Now, on these information..."

Aqua: "...Huh."

Aqua: "His birthday is December 5."

Swank: "That's around winter, isn't it? When everything becomes cold, the expenses expand in high demands."

Aqua: "..."

Swank: "What? It's true."

Aqua: "I think you mean lower than expand, but that's unrelated to the current topic."

Aqua: "Besides, when was the date that Kiritaka died?"

Swank: "I think around December 5, by what the rest of the files given to me and Kuro said."

Aqua: "December 5..."

Aqua: "That's the same day as his birthday, the same one when he died."

Swank: "So you thinking that he had a birthday party before he died?"

Aqua: "No. I'm thinking on why jump off and get killed on the exact day you were born on. School would be put on pause when around the 16th or 17th day of December."

Aqua: "Unless!..."

Swank: "It was during the school time that something happened after classes."

Aqua: "Swank, when was also the time that he die?"

Swank: "...Well I told you the date, so you gotta pay me for the time."

Aqua: "..."

Aqua: "...Excuse me?"

Swank: "I'm not telling you the time of it unless if you pay me."

Aqua: "..."

Aqua: "Why you-"

Arguing and pinching/pushing the other

Kuro: "I'm back, did you guys figure out something-"

More arguing

Kuro: "...Oi."

Swank and Aqua: "!"

Kuro: "What the hell are you 2 doing?"

Aqua: "He said I have to pay him if I want to know the time of death."

Swank: "He wouldn't pay me!"

Kuro: "...Are you kidding me."

Kuro: "Just tell me what you figured out."

Aqua: Ahem "Well, we found out about the date of death of Kiritaka was around December 5. The same day as his birthday."

Aqua: "It was before christmas aswell."

Kuro: "And with it?"

Aqua: "...I'm not sure who saw him die."

Kuro: "Great...well, I got tails on some info."

Aqua: "?"

Kuro: "Apparently, the person who wanted the divorce after their son's death was... Mari Nagare."

Swank: "So, you say that the wife was the one who did it?"

Kuro: "In a sense, yes, she was the one who wanted the divorce. Possibly by her grieving, thinking that it's the husband's fault her son died."

Kuro: "Of course, that isn't the complete reason, just a thought and possibility."

Kuro: "By the way...I see the papers are printed now."

Aqua: "Yes, they are."

Kuro: "Let's see what we have..."

Kuro: "...Hm, seems like I have a few theories."

Kuro: "One of them is the involvement."

Kuro: "Whoever were involved in the murder, including the disappearances, had to be the witnesses of Kiritaka and the murders."

Aqua: "But how? These are all just profiles."

Kuro: "Hm, wonderful for you to ask."

Kuro: " i actually decided to go through Shikimi's account and pictures, and look what I found."

Kuro: "A post of her friends. The same ones you sent to me of their profiles and information."

Aqua: "And why is it that important? What can one photo do?"

Swank: "Wait! I think I know now."

Aqua: "Huh?"

Swank: "You said that photos can come in a cause and evidence to everything, right? I think I figured something out."

Kuro: "Demonstrate then, I'll wait."

Swank: "So.. If these 5 in the photo that the girl posted are in it. Then that means their friends, right?"

Kuro: "Yes, and?"

Swank: "If that Kowase guy disappeared 1st, and then Shikimi disappeared 2nd, nothing being heard from them. Are you still listening?"

Kuro: "Yes, I am still listening."

Swank: "Ok, then that means 3 of them would remain. With the connection of the manipulated murder and the divorce all together, it would mean that..."

Kuro: "That Shikimi, Kowase, Aijiki, Kinugawa, and Nomozu were.."

Swank: "Were all at the time and date when Kiritaka jumped, meaning they were there where he jumped at!"

Kuro: "...Wait, your right!... These 5 seemed to be friends all together, and when the executive said that 2 of them went missing from the group they were in."

Aqua: "Then that means!..."

Kuro, Aqua, Swank: "The ones who manipulated Kiritaka Nagare to jump off were the bully group in Saint Spring!"

Kuro: "But wait, what about the disappearances. Who could have done them?"

Kuro: "And most importantly... Why and how did they manipulated him, and was there someone else who also witnessed it other than the bullies?..."

#pjsk like #project sekai like #project singers #rain code #kuro starling #rain code oc #swank catsonell #maria no danzai #oshi no ko #aquamarine hoshino #crossover #tw: divorce #tw: death mention

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

6 7 13 16 25 33 for the writers ask thing :]

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

it's gotta be the prose.... i think anyone who has either roleplayed with me or just bounced concepts back and forth with me knows that sometimes i will just start talking for like. twenty minutes. paragraphs and paragraphs of whatever nonsensical whimsical shit just comes to the top of my head. i love it i fucking love the prose and such. i have no better way of explaining it than this, but it feels like stimming inside of my head to me. it's like the mental equivalent of romping in an endless field. i just keep going and going and going ..... aaough..... 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

it's for sure gotta be the dead space in between keystone scenes. i first started writing drabbles and one-shots purely to convey an exact scene down to the minuscule action. but nothing beyond that. there was no context to build because my friends (the only people who ever saw it) knew all there was to know about the context already. there was no dead spaces because i was only honed on one thing. now that i'm actually writing larger pieces with multiple scenes- or feed the roses, which is in itself just. one complete story- it's gotten a lot harder to actually do. other stuff💥

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

answered over here

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

it's gotta be the tortures for me. it's where most of my writing origins come from- me in my killing and maiming era as an early middle schooler, and coping with it by tearing fictional characters apart with my bare teeth. i've gotten a lot better at writing a wider variety of things, and i'm not even especially good at writing torture anymore (honestly i don't know if i could have been considered 'good' back then, either). but either reading or writing there's just something about it that gets me hyped up beyond my usual capacity. we love to see some gorgeously written agony.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

ALL the time, yeah. the latter half of Caught in a Tunnel was a daydream otherwise unrelated to the initial concept of experimenting with max and wig's fighting styles and how they intertwine when you add their. fucked up personalities into the mix. as aforementioned, i tend to think in specific scenes, so normally if i'm daydreaming about a scene or alternative take to something i already wrote, i've probably found some time to. actually write it, at some point.

i can confess that my most recent ieytd work, Sun on Earth, had me rotating spinoffs/continuations even before i'd finished it. since it was an experiment to see how zor and solaris get along under pressure (or, rather, how they don't get along), and since it was entirely through zor's perspective. i've been considering experimenting with an extension of the catalyst through solaris' perspective. i don't have enough ideas for it to be legitimately considering writing it yet but i do kind of want to.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

i have no clue. i hope everybody thinks i just rub my brain really hard and then words appear on the page honestly. chat check out my sick ass magic trick

#ask #long post #rye...... snifs you snifs you snifs you snifs you snifs you

[patbwaifs]

it's tuesday my dudes

i forgot to take my meds last night and this morning, so i had a headache all day, but it went away as soon as I took my meds tonight. hahhh. Just finished working out a bit too.

this is what my desktop pretty much looks like all the time (sans legal documents)

I am so so serious about creating a consistent art style so I can make visual novels. My "main goal" right now is to "rewrite" Detroit via visual novel to practice branching gameplay and also rewrite a few scenes and story lines (like Kara and Alice.) Obviously, to recreate the entire game would be nuts. The main thing is to learn how to make visual novels in general, so I'm gonna start with specific scenes and then kinda go out from there.

I also want to write a fanfiction for D:BH. I started drafting it out. The first time is never perfect but I gotta start somewhere with storytelling, and for now, I'm borrowing these characters...

But my art style is pretty obviously going in a certain direction. Ghost in the shell was one of the first anime movies I ever saw (along with Adolescence of Utena. That was definitely an experience) And while I want each of my portraits to look like they "match" I also need to remember that I can still change and vary things up. That's kinda the main reason Markus and North are not 100% complete. The point wasn't to draw a finished portrait of them but to explore and practice a style. I like to think I'll go back once I gain more skill and draw finished portraits of the main D:BH cast.

One thing I really like about using D:BH to practice my art is that there are a variety of different characters to draw, from race to age and beyond.

This styles similarities to realism do throw me off though. I keep wanting to steer into realistic proportions but since it's not my intention from the outset, things get weird fast. Thankfully, I'm a lot better about starting over, reworking sketches and concepts, than I used to be. Before, I would have been tortured to even think about starting over on Amelia's portrait, but now? I want to make a proper portrait of her, in oil pastel. Not in procreate with my illustration tools. (I haven't shown yall my oil pastel rizz yet, hee hee)

On an unrelated note

I talked a bit with my best friend about my headspace around the Decharts' streams (and positive spaces in general) but i was still in oof ouch head hurty mode so I didn't get much out, but she was like "yeah. positivity vibe exposure therapy." I did catch their stream today but it was right when I had to go to the mechanic/dealership.

and boy, is my car a piece of work. I always done knew it too!!! But I need to be more assertive about taking care of it instead of feeling like my Abba is the only one who can decide when things get replaced and when. But i need new tires last week :/

He's throwing a route tonight too. I hope it's all boring and safe.

Gah, i had something else I wanted to talk about but it's escaped me.

Doing things in general has been easier.

I worry about when school starts. I have this gnawing feeling that I need to take a full course load but I know, consciously, that if I do it will end badly.

Although I'm trying to build better self-care habits over the summer so I don't get completely blindsided again. It's just, when I get drowned in a project, it can be hard to pull myself up and do the things I know help me. Like I can't work on my project as well if I don't take the moment to take my medication. gahhhh. but in each moment is eternity, so why would i take an eternity to do something else?

I guess that's my default way of thinking. Maybe that's why things are so intense so often unless I dislodge my brain from the world.

There's something about the Decharts' streams and other thing similar that makes it hard for me to zone out/dissociate/focus on something else/some variation of that. I can't ignore it. And then it's just sensory overload. I think when i feel emotions it's sensory overload first. and then whatever the emotion is second.

I've been trying to let myself feel things about silly android game. As long as it's not guilt. I am trying not feel guilty for liking this game so much. Like what's the use in feeling weird and bad about listening to the soundtrack. gahh the blood is draining from my fingers again.

Speech therapy today went well too.

goodnight yall.

#journal #art thoughts #the art style gauntlet

[eternal-reverie]

my brother told me corazon was mentioned in the latest one piece chapter and im not there yet but wahhhh 😭

#i only known this character for like three weeks but like his story with law doesn’t leave my brain #like i could be watching the anime or something completely unrelated and tell my brother ‘hey so this reminds me of cora-‘ #just finished whole cake island arc and started wano #for a long time i wanted to get caught up so my brother would get off my back but now i don’t want to be since i would have to wait for upda #updates too lol #i gotta post my fanart of him it’s been sitting in my folder for 2 weeks now rip #click clack

[bluebxlle-writer]

My writing advice for new writers

masterlist. main navigation.

@bluebxlle_writer on Instagram

1. Write for yourself

This is the #1 tip I will always give to writers, so you've probably heard me say this a few times. Don't write for others, but write for yourself.

People have different tastes. There will always be some who dislike your book, and some who consider it their favorite. Lots of people hate famous books like Percy Jackson or Six Of Crows, and I'm sure you've disliked a popular book before. So instead of writing a book that others would read, start writing a book that you would read. If you end up liking your book, I can assure you that many others will too.

2. Flesh out characters

When you're excited to write a new WIP, you might delay your character building process and decide to start writing while trying to figure out the characterization on the way. I've done this a couple of times, thinking that it would speed up my writing process, but trust me, it did not. It actually slowed down my writing instead.

If you start writing your wip without at least finishing 80% of your character building process, you'll find yourself getting stuck in scenes, not knowing what your character would say or do, which is very inconvenient.

If you ever get bored of character building and really want to start writing instead, I suggest writing one-shots unrelated to your WIP. By doing this, you don't have to worry about writing your characters out of character, and its actually useful to their characterization process.

3. Experiment!

If you feel like there's something off with your writing, or you're beginning to feel that writing is a chore for you, experiment with different writing techniques. Switch up your genre, time period, plotting method, etc.

For reference, I used to be a pantser who writes plot-driven mystery stories. But now, I'm more comfortable with being a plantser who writes character-driven low fantasy stories! Basically, don't be afraid of change, because it might help you later.

4. Know your ending

In my opinion, the most important thing to consider while writing a story is your ending - not your beginning or middle. You can rewrite your beginning chapters anytime, and you can always figure out your middle chapters later, noone knows how to write the middle of a story anyway.

But if you don't know the ending of your story, you're screwed, buddy. Without knowing how your story ends, you can't write the events that build up to that ending.

You're unsure about your novel's ending at first and decided to throw in a last minute plot twist? That means you've been foreshadowing the wrong ending the whole book, and you gotta rewrite. You don't know how your characters will develop throughout the book? You won't be able to write the journey of their arc throughout the story. Hassling, right? That's why, try not to start writing your WIP without having a possible ending in mind.

5. If you write, you're valid.

Nowadays, the standards of being a writer is that you have to write a full-length novel and be traditionally published. This isn't true, not even the slightest.

You write poetry? You're a writer and valid. You're a screenwriter? Bro, look at the word. ScreenWRITER. valid. You write fanfictions? Valid, and you're not cringey. You have NO idea how much I worship fanfiction writers for writing what canon won't give us. You're writing but don't want to be published? You're still valid. As long as you write, you're valid, because that's the whole point of being a writer.

6. Don't follow every single tip

There's a reason why they're called writing tips, not rules. You're not meant to follow every single one of them, they're only meant to guide you on the way. Some will be useful, some won't, depending on yourself. So please, don't be pressured to follow every writing tip you see.

#writers on tumblr #writing things #writers #writerslife #writersociety #writing tips #tips for writers #writing help #writing tip #writing #writer blog #writingblr #writing resources #writing reference #new writing project

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

chapter twenty two: i love you

previous  <  masterpost  >  next

note. i am sorry for the veeeery long wait; i finally finished it tonight (after fucking up with it for two whole months) but yeah, my emotions are quite unstable right now so this was affected by it (in short, this is a roller coaster ride so pls be ready)

playlist. stay (acoustic ver.); never let me go (both sung by ghostly kisses)

You absolutely had no idea what you were doing right now. As far as you could remember, you were the playwright, the writer of the script. You never had any interest in acting in plays, musicals, nor acting in general… none at all – so why is it that right now, you were standing right on the side of the stage, waiting for the cue for you to come out, dressed up as someone you weren’t supposed to be, someone you were only supposed to have written for?

You swear, this was the most chaotic crowd you have ever seen your whole life. You only watched, alongside Hajime, as people lined up right by the entrance of the university’s theater, murmuring and gossiping about the play that was less than an hour away from starting, “I gotta say, they look way too excited for a story that they should know like the back of their hands by now. It’s kind of funny,” Hajime chuckled, letting out a quiet ‘yeah’ as he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you cringe on the girls that were obviously here for your best friend. You swore you heard one of them say they’re going to ask him out after the play and you almost wanted to drag her out of the venue by her hair.

“I would say it would be a waste of a ticket for people who are here just to gush about handsome faces instead of the story itself but then again, it’s us who are benefiting from it anyway.” You huffed and muttered a few more things under your breath, beginning to walk to the direction of the entrance for the crew members which was on the farther side of the theater, Hajime silently following and shaking his head out of amusement for your obvious jealousy. I can’t wait for the time when it’s me you’re being jealous for, he thinks.

You thought the crowd outside was chaotic? Nothing could have prepared you for the view you were welcomed to as soon as you entered the backstage. Literally, almost all of the crew members were running around frantically, pushing the small and large props here and there. Hajime, as if he had his ‘danger’ instincts set on, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to his side just right when a random lad passed by where you were at a while ago, struggling to carry what looked like a heavy log on his shoulder (you figured it would be for one of the scenes that were supposed to be in the forest). You were sure as hell that if you weren’t moved out of the way by your friend, the lad would’ve collided with you and that thing he was holding would’ve fell on you because he was too busy looking back and chatting with his companion who was carrying other props.

Irritated by their carelessness, Hajime clicked his tongue and spoke up, “Oi, you two have to be careful and watch where you’re going. You might just cause an accident with what you’re doing.” The boys replied with an insincere apology, immediately going back to their business. You were soon brought to your senses as well and realized that you were still in his arms. Blushing profusely, you muttered a quiet ‘thanks,’ too flustered to think of a more decent reply. Hajime raised an eyebrow, smirking before leaning his head close to yours again, foreheads touching each other, much like the other day.

“You’re red. Are you feeling sick?” If it was someone he wasn’t close with, it would look like he’s just being concerned but you know better because you can practically hear the teasing behind his voice, so, you punched him right by his shoulders, muttering with a hint of shyness in your tone, “Asshole. Stop trying to tease me, it’s way too much for me. When the fuck did you even get so brave to act like this with me? Jerk.”

He cackled, slinging his arm around your shoulder, and beginning to pull you deeper inside the backstage. You both stood idly by the corner of the backstage, watching the actors get ready. From your position, you could see your blonde best friend, eyes looking lost as they wandered around the area until it stopped right to where you were. You think you held a staring contest for about twenty seconds until your companion spoke up, “You know, I personally think it would be better if you go to him and say your good luck, yeah? Nothing’s going to happen if you just stare at each other all day. I’m willing to share you with him… just for today though. After this, no more.” 

A confused expression formed on your face, wondering what he meant, though he just snickered and ruffled your head, “I said… go to him before I change my mind and pull you away from here.”

“I can’t. These days, I’ve been feeling way too many feelings and I don’t know how to control them. I feel like… I might just burst and tell him everything but I don’t want to. I’m not ready yet,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers as you looked down, only for your head to be raised up again as Hajime held it up using your chin, a tender smile plastered on his face.

“Tell you what… if you lose control and everything goes astray, just look at me and I’ll save you, like a knight-in-shining-armor,” he whispers, patting you on the head before pushing you towards your best friend who was still looking, by the way. You took a deep breath, stopping right in front of him, biting your lip before opening your mouth to say something but Atsumu beat you to it, arms immediately going around your form and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m sorry,” He mumbles into your hair, while you nod, reciprocating the gesture, “I… I’ve been such a shitty best friend, huh?”

“Yeah, right,” You huffed, trying to look mad and intimidating but it only came off as cute in Atsumu’s vocabulary, “After this, I’ll treat you to this really good restaurant. We can talk about anything and everything you want to tell me, even if they’re bad, I’ll listen, yeah?” He suggested, his hold on you still not loosening as he looked down on you, “I’d prefer it if only good things come out of your pretty mouth though.” 

You rolled your eyes, getting ready to retort as usual but a loud crash and a cry of pain interrupted you. Looking to the source of the sound, your eyes, as well as Atsumu’s widened. You can only watch as Yui, who was on the floor, clutching her ankles, angrily screech at the boy who was bowing his head and apologizing, the large piece of wood you luckily avoided a while ago found its victim and it’s the main actress of the play, “What the fuck! Why weren’t you watching where you’re going?! Look at what you did!”

Your best friend jogged towards her and once again, you were left behind. Love seriously sucks, you thought as you watch him try to shush Yui’s cries. The director, who heard about the situation, ran to where you are, asking what happened. “I think her ankles are injured, Miyu-chan,” you quickly replied, anxiety beginning to arise within you because what was supposed to happen now? You can’t cancel this play; you all have been working for months for this! Besides, the theater must be full of the audience now. As if she was reading your mind, she spoke up, “We can’t cancel this now, but we can’t force her to act as well. She can barely stand up, look. Mina, tell Mari to ask the audience to wait for a little while more, we have to think of a solution.”

By now, Atsumu was supporting her, making their way towards you with Yui limping, “Miyu-san…” “No, Yui. I know what you’re going to say but I won’t let you do that. Go to the infirmary and have your ankles checked. Your well-being is more important than this play,” the director firmly said, much to the brown-haired girl’s dismay.

“But you can’t cancel it! The people who bought the tickets will get mad! I can do this, it barely hurts, Miyu-san!” Yui pleaded, even going as far lifting her injured foot in a pathetic attempt to show that she was fine but it only put her to a worse situation as soon as she winced. Miyu only gave her a look of ‘I told you so.’ 

“Don’t worry about the play, Yui-chan. YN can replace you in your role.”

“What?!” “WHAT?” You simultaneously yelled out, obviously not expecting the sudden decision to be made, much less one that has something to do with you, “Wait, wait, wait… Miyu-chan, aren’t you being a little rash right now? I’m not a good actress!”

“She’s right!” Yui scoffed, “I’ve been practicing this for so long and you’re going to replace me with someone who never did?!” 

“That’s right,” Miyu nodded, crossing her arms, “She knows the script and the lines better than anyone here. And don’t try to fool me, YN, you know you can act.” Her unrelenting eyes told you that she knew everything there was to know; she’s been your friend for more than a year now, after all. 

“Oh, well. You won’t change my mind no matter what you say, so just go, Yui. Iwaizumi-kun, sorry for this sudden request but can you take Yui to the infirmary after what we’re going to do?” Hajime blinked but nodded, nonetheless. He feels somewhat sorry for the brunette who was on the verge of tears as she was helped by the crew members into one of the changing rooms to undress her costume.

It’s definitely not the first time in your life but you felt like vomiting the breakfast you had this morning.

You already lost count of how many times you took a deep breath in hopes that your heart will calm down. You listened as Mari neared the end of her welcoming rites and speech for the play, placing your hands on your chest as a final attempt to get tranquility within. The fairytale-like background music began to play and soon, a younger version of your character appeared on the stage; it’s the beginning of your Cinderella play. To be honest, you don’t even know where they got that child actress and how they managed to convince her to join the play but right now, you couldn’t care less because all you’re thinking of right now is how to not mess up your lines and deliver them with the proper emotions. 

Your brother, Osamu, Tooru, Makki and Mattsun, who you were sure as hell were in the audience, will never let you hear the end of it if you mess this up. You don’t want to live the rest of your days in Japan being a laughingstock. No way, you refu–

“You’re thinking too much about it. Calm down,” A voice from behind you interrupted, hands beginning to massage your shoulders to get your stiff muscles to relax. Turning around, you were met with the one and only Miya Atsumu in a prince costume. Right there and then, you felt like your heart’s going to burst for a different reason this time. 

Goodness heavens, Lord Jesus, thank you for blessing me with this beautiful man and letting me meet him, you thought as you savored the view in front of you, also thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Miya  for successfully creating Atsumu and delivering him to the Earth, it must have difficult to produce such fine masterpiece.

“Ya look… beautiful,” the blonde mutters, a hand rubbing his nape and sheepishly grinning, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, “Ya should dress up yourself from time to time, yanno? It really suits you.”

“Gee, thanks for calling me ugly on my normal days,” you scoffed, giggling when he let out a sound of disagreement, “No! That’s not what I meant, idiot!”

“I know.” 

Before you can continue your conversation, the signal for you to come out is finally closing in as the “stepsisters” appeared onstage. Rather shakily, you took a step forward, almost tripping on your dress due to your nerves. You were fortunate that Atsumu was attentive enough to grab your wrist, “YN, I told you to calm down.”

You gulped, nodding and taking a deep breath. He smiled upon seeing the determined look on your face and for some reason, his body moved on its own - placing a hand on your cheek with his thumb rubbing it, he approached you and placed his lips on your forehead. Maybe it’s because you were so nervous or maybe it’s because you longed for this moment for almost your whole life. Whatever the reason is, you just find yourself tearing up a little bit as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Never in your life had you wished that time can stop this much before. As you stood still in Atsumu’s embrace, you felt your heart being squeezed with so much love yet pain at the same time. How is it that he’s so close yet he’s someone you can’t have? 

“I love you, Atsumu,” you tell him, eyes still watery; heart hoping that it reaches him, that he picks up the meaning behind your words. But he doesn’t, as he stops to look at you, he squints his eyes in a joking manner as he speaks, “Hey, why do you look so emotional today?”

Disappointment grows in the depths of your whole being, though you don’t show him that. Because perhaps this was enough, you can try again another day. You’ll try and try until he finally understands. You can do that… you’ve been holding on pretty well the past fifteen years, so you huff instead, ignoring the painful thump of your heart, “Nothing, you jerk! Is it really that weird to hear me say I love you to you, hah?!”

You hear the dialogue of one of the stepsisters, calling out as your cue. You start to trudge forward but before you could fully go, he replies, “I love you too, YN, always remember that although I’m so shitty sometimes.”

Yeah, this is enough for now.

Perhaps, you shouldn’t have been so confident in saying that; you should’ve just been straight to the point because nothing has ever compared to the agony engulfing your insides as Miya Atsumu sat in front of you in a random booth of a restaurant, speaking the words you’ve always dreaded to hear as a Moira and as his very own soulmate, “YN, I think I’m done waiting for my soulmate. Can’t you just cut my thread off please?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu smau #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #atsumu smau #iwaizumi smau #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu angst #haikyuu texts

[amoristt]

Don't Go | Peter Parker

anon: how about a peter parker scenario where the reader is also an avenger and dies from the thanos snap instead of peter, so they turn to dust in his arms? GIMME THE ANGST PLZ

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

c/w: death ment, endgame spoilers

want to support me? heres my kofi!

-

For a brave moment, there was calmness. The distant sound of fire, the seldom silence of a raging war. The sky displays a brilliance of red, yellows, golds over the heads of what remains of Peter’s little team as he helps Tony to his feet. Mantis assists Quill, his arm slung loosely around her shoulder, and then, Peter see’s you congregate into the regrouping. You’re dirty, your outfit looking a little worse for wear. He’s seen you in better shape but at that moment all he can think about is how happy he is to see you there. Standing, breathing.

Seeing you alive.

There’s still light in your eyes when you find his gaze and smile.

Yes, in that moment, even miles away from the finish line, Peter feels his heart swell. In that moment it felt that the war had been won- that the worst of it was finally over.

He’s about to open his mouth, remark about the events having unfolded, ask a hopeful, is it over, but he’s stopped.

Mantis’s eyes unfocus. She stares into the vibrant, dangerous sky, “Something's happening.” She says suddenly.

Peter’s brows knit in confusion, but then- he feels it too. A sharp shot of electricity running down his spine that brings the hairs on his arms to a stand. His spider sense is thrust into full gear as he turns, looks for something, anything, but there is… Nothing. Nothing is happening. If anything, the world was almost too silent, trepidation making his breath halt in his throat.

In the span of a simple, yet devastating second, it all begins.

Mantis is gone. In the blink of an eye, not a single other sentence uttered than a warning. Peter stops in his tracks. Then, he see’s Drax peer down to his hands. Without saying a word, in just a few quiet moments, the man dissipates into ash. From where he once stood, there is nothing. There was no howl of agony, there were no words, there was no time to process. No pile of ash or any evidence he’d been there at all. Peter’s chest tightens. His spider sense wreaks havoc on his nerves, bringing his stomach to an unrelenting churn.

Quill, now forced to stand on his own, looks to Tony. His team gone right before his eyes.

Tony’s eyes light up in fear. “Steady, Quill,” he rushes, but it’s too late.

“Oh man…” Quill knows it's over. And he, just as his friends, fades into nothing. Little ashes that were once the being of Peter Quill flutter into the air before fading entirely.

Peter’s mind is racing now. This can’t be happening, how could it be happening?

“Tony,” Dr. Strange calls. “There was no other way.”

Peter can’t watch anymore. Instead, he finds you. He doesn’t need to see it to know that Dr. Strange is gone. The silence, the way you cover your mouth and shake your head fervently, whispering to yourself in denial, mind overtaken with sudden grief, with fear. He wishes he could take it all away from you. Tears are drawing in your once lit eyes.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter starts frantically, turning to Tony and ignoring that empty space that once was Dr. Strange. He’s terrified to the core, mind racing. Who would be next? Tony? Himself? You? He take’s a trembling step towards his mentor, begging for answers. His stomach is in knots. “What do we do?”

He needs something, anything. It feels like the world is ending before his very eyes.

Tony turns to answer him, but he stops. He’s stuck looking at something else, his expression falling. Peter follows his line of sight, and he’s stricken with dread.

Your hands at your chest, staring into your palms, the gentlest stream of brown dust eating away at your skin. “They’re numb,” you whisper, and Peter feels like the floor was torn out from under him. His heart sinks into the lowest pits of his stomach when you look up at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

Not you.

As you lose your footing, falling victim to the effects overtaking your body, Peter launches from his place to catch you before you could collapse onto the dirt. He follows you down, cradles you in his arms, eyes searching for anything he could do to fix it. Anything he could do to save you.

It couldn't be you.

“Peter.” You begin, and you touch his face. He swallows a lump in his throat. You appeared so fearful, and yet, at a sort of peace. Of course you knew exactly what was happening. So did he.

“You can’t,” Peter wheezes. He shakes as he keeps you in his hold. “You can’t leave me.”

He watches in anguish as your expression softens, your eyes unfocusing. Staring into the bright sky ahead of you. There’s nothing he can do to keep you here, with him. Your arms fade into nothing, infectiously spreading to your chest. He feels the weight of you lighten in his arms.

“You’re okay,” You whisper. “You’ll be okay.”

For what short time he can, Peter pulls you into his chest. He clutches you to himself like nothing else, unaccepting, unprepared. He can’t accept it- not like you had so quickly. He can’t. He doesn’t want to.

Clutched against him, he feels the shape of you in his arms, and then, all at once, you’re gone. Emptiness from where you once lay and the absence of you sends him collapsing into the dirt with nothing to keep him supported any longer. The dirt is cold, hard,. unwelcoming. He doesn't even bother to look to see if maybe, somehow, you remained. He knew better. You were gone.

Peter doesn't cry out, or wail into the nothingness or grasp at the dirt you’d faded into. Teeth sinking into his lower lip, he just shakes, he sucks in breaths that hurt his aching lungs and tightens his hands into harsh fists. There’s a touch on his shoulder but he ignores it. He’s lost in himself, lost in you. Lost in wondering so suddenly how he’s supposed to carry on without you.

He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

“He did it.” Nebula whispers, sorrow dripping from each word. A miserable confirmation.

Tears sting his eyes, squeezed shut, wishing it was all just a dream. Wishing he could glance up, and you’d just be there still. Why did it have to be you? All your fighting, all your work, making it to the very end side by side with him and for what? There was nothing of you left- nothing for him to remind himself that you’d even been there at all save for your goodbye, the softness of your eyes. The way you touched his face and told him he’d be okay.

“Hey,” A touch breaches his scrambled thoughts once more. Tony kneels beside him, crestfallen. “You gotta get up kid,” but Peter can’t. He doesn’t want to- not just yet. He doesn’t want to move and see that you really are gone.

The touch turns into a soft grip, a small tug. Tony tries again, a crack in his voice. “You gotta get up, Peter.”

Eyes wet, blurry with fat tears, holding the worst of his lamenting cries within the confines of his chest, he brings himself to look up. The loss of you stings him all over again. The loss of everyone stings him, fills him with desolation. Fill him with hopelessness.

They hadn’t won. They’d lost everything.

He can’t meet Tony’s gaze. The world had rolled, crashed in and folded onto everyone. All he could think about was you, the feeling of you. The hauntingness of remembering your words so rushed and the sight of you eroding into nothingness. He can’t handle it. He drops his head all over again and let’s tears soak into the dirt underneath him.

He can’t handle the thought of you gone now, and gone forever. All your plans, desolated. The thought of you never getting to see the end of the war, let alone another day. The realization that he’d never get to spend another with you.

The pure, raw, mercilessness of having you in his arms one moment, and gone the next.

#marvel #peter parker #avengers #imagine #endgame #spiderman #peter parker x reader #fanfic #angst #scenario

[ptergwen]

4 times peter loved you and 1 time he said it

warnings: angst, swearing, and flash being a dickwad (love him tho)

a/n: i wasn’t sure if i would ever finish this bc i started in march? and gave up but i really like the concept so i made myself get back into it and AHH i’m really happy with how it turned out! fingers crossed y’all like too ahaha. also this is unrelated but send me requests!

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to say you and peter were each other’s missing halves would be an absolute understatement. there wasn’t a secret you didn’t share, an inside joke you didn’t have, a text or call left unanswered, or a second you weren’t on the other’s mind.

it had been like that since your first day of freshman year. you took the seat next to peter in first period spanish, and the rest was history.

peter knew you better than you knew yourself. as cheesy as it sounded, it was true. he could guess what you were going to order at a restaurant before you picked up the menu. if you had a bad day, he’d come over to your place with tissues and hugs, without you having to ask. he knew all the little things.

you? you were a peter parker encyclopedia. you watched all his favorite movies so he could rant to you about them, and you’d actually understand what he was saying. whenever he felt overwhelmed by his chaotic life, you found a way to calm him.

you two were soulmates in best friend form.

best friends, nothing more.

♡ 1.

you had an arm around peter’s neck as you picked at some fruit on his lunch tray. his head was resting comfortably against your cheek, whole body leaning on you. impromtu cuddle sessions weren’t unusual for the two of you. they worked in both of your favors. peter was your own personal heater, and you were just really comfortable to nap on, in his opinion.

“are you gonna eat all my grapes? i was looking forward to those,” peter whined, taking one out of your hand. “are you gonna keep using me as a pillow?” you challenged. he responded by moving his head to your shoulder and chewing. “then, yes. i am gonna eat all your grapes.”

“you know what two people who share food are?” ned chimed in from across the cafeteria table. already knowing what he was implying, you sighed. “what, ned?” he cupped his hand over his mouth like he was about to spill the world’s biggest secret. “a couple.”

it wouldn’t be a regular day without ned trying to play matchmaker for you and peter. the idea made peter scoff. “leave us alone, man. that doesn’t even make sense.” “yes it does!” ned nudged mj for backup. she only raised her hands in defense. it was always a hard pass from her on getting involved in these types of things, unless she found a reason to.

“really? how?” you grabbed peter’s milk and took a sip just for the hell of it. he chuckled at that, forgetting he was supposed to be annoyed with you. a bit of milk dripped down your chin in the process. “oops,” you grimaced at yourself and licked it away.

something about the whole thing made peter’s heart clench. it was so... you were so... cute. cute was definitely the word he was looking for. wait, what? that was new. peter had always thought you were pretty and all, but he’d never found himself endeared like this over such a little thing you did. or had he? no. nope. it was ned’s stupid theory messing with him. that was all.

“y/n, dude, everyone knows it’s a thing. like, why else would someone give up their whole lunch? it’s flirting,” ned interrupted peter’s sudden thoughts about your cuteness. the smug look on his face made you want to throw the tray at him.

before you even joined their friend group, ned was on a mission to set the two of you up. peter described you to him and mj as “the actual sweetest girl ever. she makes me laugh a lot. you guys gotta meet her.” mj obviously ‘tsked’ at him, but a light bulb went off in ned’s head. peter was crushing. he just didn’t know it yet.

part of how you and peter got so close was that ned and mj used to back out of group plans. you’d end up hanging out alone most of the time. of course, it was ned’s idea. a successful idea, yes, but neither of you understood the obsession. apparently it was a guy in the chair’s duty to be a good wingman, and you should leave it to him. whatever that meant.

“if i remember correctly, you and your mom went halfsies on a piece of cake at your birthday party last year. what are you trying to tell us, leeds?” mj asked with a smirk. you and peter looked at each other and burst into laughter, ned’s mouth hanging open. the girl could really get someone when she wanted to.

“shut up, you guys! that’s different!” “so is y/n stealing my food and you calling it sharing,” peter made a point of saying more to you than ned. despite his words, he pushed the tray over to you. it was basically yours, anyway.

you thanked him with a pat on his cheek and popped more grapes into your mouth. in that moment, peter decided he’d get you all the grapes in the world if he could. jeez, he seriously needed to reel it in.

ned was only going to keep going now. “see that? peter’s such a sweet boyfriend. isn’t he, y/n?” he cooed and clasped his hands under his chin. you didn’t have the chance to change the topic before flash appeared at your table. he’d probably overheard your conversation. “penis parker is somebody’s boyfriend? good one.”

feeling peter tense up next to you, you put a hand on his shoulder to let him know you were there. you’d been in too many of these situations. the way flash talked to peter pissed you off in ways you didn’t think were possible. he was fine with everybody else, so why did he choose to pick on him? peter was the least deserving person of having to put up with it from anyone.

“just ignore him, okay? he’ll get bored and leave. works every time,” you reminded peter. too uneasy to say anything, he reached back and put his hand on top of yours. he tried to focus on how nice your touch felt instead of the fact that he was about to be humiliated by flash yet again.

“peter could totally get a girlfriend! he has, like, tons of girls after him,” ned attempted to back peter up, pleased with himself. groaning, peter put his head down on the table. he couldn’t bare to watch his friend destroy what was left of his social life. “you’re really pushing this now. stop talking,” mj warned in a whisper yell to ned. that didn’t stop flash from hearing her.

“she’s right. even parker agrees! look at him,” he snickered at peter’s embarrassed state. you’d had more than enough of him at that point. screw the silence. it wasn’t going to cut it for this one. while wingman ned was still making up stories, you tapped peter’s shoulder to find out how he was doing. his head remained down.

“you okay? want me to say something?” “i’m used to it, and no. i don’t wanna make you deal with him.” peter hated putting his issues on other people, but you couldn’t stand another second of listening to the things flash was saying. you cut into an argument between him and ned about peter’s body count. like his was any higher.

“fuck off, flash!” he stopped in the middle of his sentence. “huh?” “i said fuck off. anyone would be so lucky to date peter. you’re probably salty at him all the time because it’ll never be you,” you finally snapped. his tough guy persona faltered for a few seconds at your words, ned and mj taking the opportunity to high five you for telling him off.

peter was glad his head was still down because his cheeks were pinker than he’d like to admit. did you really mean that? would you be lucky to date him, too?

“what are you, president of the parker protection squad? or are you two a thing?” flash quickly recovered. there he went trying to get the last word in. the embarrassment for peter if you denied it was exactly what he wanted, but you weren’t letting him have it.

“ask me again some other time.” you plastered on a shit-eating grin and waved goodbye. unsatisfied with your answer, flash huffed his way back to his own table. after he was gone, peter looked up at you with something you’d never seen before twinkling in his eyes.

“thank you, y/n. you really didn’t have to say all of that.” “oh, no. don’t thank me. i‘d do it for you anytime. i am president of the parker protection squad, after all.” your fake smile turned into a genuine one for him. peter couldn’t help but mirror it.

his was heart doing that thing again. he guessed it was because he loved you so much, but this love felt different somehow. it wasn’t the friend kind of love he’d had for you all those years.

it was the kind of love he saw in the rom coms you made him watch when you got to pick for movie night. cupid’s love was the official name for it. when he put two and two together, the realization smacked him straight in the face. ned was right.

peter was starting to fall in love with you, and there was no way he could stop.

♡ 2.

peter was a workaholic. patrolaholic to be exact, especially when he had a reason. he’d sometimes find himself in a cycle of getting home late and going out early for days on end. he’d gotten used to the sleep deprivation. his grumbling stomach from missing meals wasn’t too big of a deal either. not when he had a city to save.

it was also a good distraction from everything else going on in his life. man, did he need a distraction. after peter came to terms with the fact that he loved loved his best friend, he narrowed it down to two options; telling you about his feelings or taking them to his grave. since the city was so busy, he was thankful he could throw himself into patrolling and not decide just yet.

may would usually only allow peter to patrol on weekends. school existed, and he had to take breaks. peter really wanted to help out more, so he proposed an idea that could potentially let him up it to the full seven days. he had to make it home in one piece every night for a trial week. that would prove to may he could handle it.

ignoring his black eye on tuesday and limp on thursday, it worked out. peter was positive he could finish off the week just fine. may didn’t have the same optimism. she decided that so much as a scratch on friday and it was strike three. friday came, and peter had impressively managed to end the day, like he thought, just fine.

he did one last swing around the neighborhood he was in, then started heading back to queens to gloat to may. on his way, he remembered he had to text you goodnight. he was bound by a pinky swear to you that he would do it every time he finished patrolling.

peter being spider-man was something you figured out only a few months after he got his powers. he technically exposed himself, and you pieced everything together. it all happened when spider-man offered to walk you home from school one day.

the way he rubbed the back of his neck while asking was a nervous habit that was oddly familiar, and urged you to say yes. you also thought it was strange how even though he didn’t ask for your address, he somehow knew where he was taking you. then again, he was spider-man. it was his job to know new york city and the people living in it.

you came to the conclusion you were making things up until he was about to leave. he walked you to the door of your apartment building and said, “stay safe, squirt.” nobody called you that besides peter. he came up with it because he had recently grown a few inches taller and could finally give you hell for being the short one.

needless to say, peter didn’t take off like he was intending to. he realized his slip up as soon as the nickname came out of his mouth. you brought him upstairs and had a long afternoon of questioning, explanations, and making promises.

peter typed out a message telling you he was fine and to go to sleep. as he was about to hit send, he swung too low and smacked his head right into a traffic light. that was what he got for texting while swinging. he could imagine mj giving him one of her famous safety lectures already, but that wasn’t first on his list of worries. he had a throbbing head and may’s third strike to deal with.

crap, may couldn’t know about this. she’d ban him from patrolling probably forever. going home was out of the question, but peter was in desperate need of an ice pack. there was already a bump forming from where the light hit him. his next choice would be to go to happy, only he couldn’t do that because he‘d tell may.

peter’s hands worked faster than his brain, and he started swinging over to your apartment. the overthinking began soon after. nobody wants to deal with a surprise appearance from their possibly concussed friend at 2 a.m. besides, what would he say? he’d barely seen you all week. it wasn’t fair to you, but it was too late to turn back.

peter landed on the sidewalk with an “oof” and crawled up the wall of your building. when he reached your window, he knocked in the same rhythm that he always did. no answer. he knocked louder. no answer again.

seeing as he had no other option, peter had to let himself in. he pushed on your window to see if it was unlocked. thank god it slid up then, but he made a mental note to remind you about keeping it locked another time. he climbed through the window with as little noise as possible so your family wouldn’t hear.

after navigating in the dark, peter pulled off his mask by the side of your bed. he instantly melted at the sight of you. your face was squished into your pillow, hair sprawled everywhere. you’d must have fallen asleep waiting for his text because you were holding your phone. peter was sure he’d never seen something so adorable.

he let himself stand there and watch the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. the bump on his head was no longer a priority. peter was utterly and completely entranced with you. god, why was he acting like this? oh, right. he was secretly in love with you.

before peter could help himself, he brushed some hair that had fallen into your eyes away with his fingers. you squirmed in your sleep, peter pulling his hand back. he was such an idiot sometimes. your eyes fluttered open and landed on him.

“peter? ‘s that you?” you squinted to see in the darkness of your room. he moved closer. your legs dangled over the bed as you slowly sat up. “yeah, it’s me. sorry to wake you.” he went to scratch his head out of nerves, but stopped when he remembered it really freaking hurt right there.

“‘s okay. i was hoping you’d come over soon. missed you all week.” you frowned at the red and blue clad boy in front of you. except for school, you hadn’t seen peter the past few days. “lots of crime to fight lately?” “missed you more, and yeah. been kicking lots of asses.” the awkwardness peter was imaging faded away when he plopped down next to you on your bed.

“how’s your eye doing? and the limp?” you turned his head towards you by his chin. he exhaled in relief. “getting better, i think. now that we’re talking about injuries...” the sleepiness was knocked out of you. you all but leapt to your feet and turned on the lamp by your bed. peter had a feeling you’d slightly freak.

“we’ve been making small talk and you’re hurt? what happened, peter?” “i-i sort of, um, i was texting you and swung into a traffic light.” “oh my god, where?” he pointed at his forehead with a weak smile. surely enough, there was a big bump. you gasped. “please don’t be mad at me.” “i’m not mad at you. just feel bad it was kinda my fault. do you think you have a concussion?”

you weren’t sure what to do beyond the mostly useless first aid videos they played in gym class. being an avenger, peter had had his share of experience with wounds. whenever he came to you hurt, he talked you through how to help him. the most you’d ever dealt with was a few particularly deep cuts. this was not the same.

“i‘m not sure. you could try that finger thing?” he suggested. you crouched down in front of him. “good idea. let’s do that.” as you waved your index finger back and forth and peter’s eyes followed it seemingly well, his mind was elsewhere. he was thinking about crawling into bed with you and sleeping in your arms.

“well, you passed or whatever they say. i’m pretty sure you don’t have a concussion. you’ll heal fast because of... you know.” you stood up and mimicked the way he shoots his webs. peter chuckled quietly. your thumb ran lightly over his bump, making him wince. “how bad does it feel?” “on a scale from one to ten it’s, like, a five and a half.”

although not what you wanted to hear, it was manageable. you hoped so, at least. “i’m gonna go get some stuff. change into comfortable clothes.” “yes, doctor y/n.” peter saluted you. you were happy to see he still felt up to joking around. biting your lip to hold back a smile, you made your way to the kitchen.

peter searched through the spare clothes he’d left here over the years. there were so many, you had to give him a drawer. he changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt, then sat back down criss cross on your bed.

you came in shortly after with a water bottle, two advil, and an ice pack wrapped in a towel. “i was kidding about the whole doctor thing, you know.” “too bad.” you handed him the advil and water. “take these. they’ll help until your magic healing powers kick in.” peter took the pills while you pressed the ice pack to his bump. he took it from you when he was finished.

“is that any better?” “much better. i’m all good. i should probably go soon.” he mumbled, not meaning it but also not wanting to overstay his welcome. you’d already done so much for him. you stopped him from getting up by putting a hand on his chest.

“what? you already changed, and i’m not sending you home to get killed by may. just stay.” “are you sure? i don’t wanna bother you anymore. it was annoying for me to come here so late in the first place.”

a frown set on your face. “peter, don’t you remember my promise?” there was a beat of silence while he thought about it. “that you’d help out with spidey stuff?” “however and whenever i can. i don’t know what made you think differently just now, but nothing’s gonna change that. doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night or early in the morning. i’m always here.”

only you could reassure him just like that. peter was really lucky to have you. really, really lucky.

“right. you’re right. sorry for... whatever that was.” “you apologize too much.” you poked his chest to punctuate your statement and switched the light off. “sorry for that, too,” he teased, wanting a reaction from you. “peter benjamin parker, just get in the bed.” “yes, ma’am.” that was enough before you changed your mind and threw him out.

you rolled to lay on the other side of peter. still pressing the ice pack to his head, he laid down next to you. it didn’t take long for both of you to be settled under the covers. “try not to bang into the wall or something,” you joked and pulled your comforter up to your chin.

peter puffed some air out of his cheeks, tugging more of it back. “you can’t be mean and hog the blanket.” “it’s my bed, so i actually can. i’ll hog everything.”

to prove your point, you moved over to peter until there was no room between you. both of you knew it was an excuse to cuddle. he wasn’t mad about it at all. peter opened an arm for you. you curled into his side, letting him hold you close. his whole body relaxed as you hugged him against you. “goodnight, spidey.” “night, squirt.”

♡ 3.

“what does that cloud look like to you?” you pointed up at the sky. peter’s eyes darted around as he tried to find exactly which one you were talking about. there were a lot of them, in his defense. you made a big circle with your finger around the cloud in question.

“the really curvy one. right there.” “kinda looks like a tiger. can we keep walking now?” peter tugged your arm linked in his in an attempt to move you from the spot you’d randomly stopped in. he made a whiny noise when you didn’t budge.

“i think it looks more like a horse, and no. why are you in such a rush?” furrowing your brows at him, you tightened your grip on his arm. “because some people don’t like cloud watching, grandma.” “i only asked you about one! i’m just... trying to get the most out of today.”

with college around the corner, you and peter both had a lot to do and a little bit of time to get it done. your only hangouts had become some shared extracurriculars and weekly study group with your other friends. trying to binge watch your shows together on facetime hadn’t been easy, for one thing. you fumbled to keep your phone up more than you payed attention.

on a more serious note, being apart sucked majorly. it was going to be this times a million when you would inevitably have to split up in a few months. thinking about it for too long usually made you cry.

peter was struggling in other ways. his more than a friend feelings for you were only getting stronger. having all that love and not being able to give it to you was hurting like hell, and he had to just pack everything up and act normal during the rare moments you were together. you were both going through it.

this was the first sunday in what felt like forever that you and peter were both free. you decided that the nice weather called for a meetup at central park. so, there you were, arm in arm on your afternoon stroll.

“don’t say it like that, y/n. you’re making me sad.” peter let out a breath as you rested your head on his shoulder. “that was the point.” you started walking again, peter following next to you. he kicked at pebbles while you smiled up at him. that made him smile at his feet. you were getting really good at making him flustered.

“so, did you finish that pre calc packet?” peter asked to distract himself. you lifted your head off his shoulder with a groan. “peter, we’re not talking about school for once. let’s talk about literally anything else.” “like what?” you were about to make a suggestion, but something caught your attention.

you raced over to a swingset, dragging peter along with you before he could realize where you were taking him. you stopped in front of it and threw your hands up to present it to him. he let out a breathy laugh. “when was the last time you went on one of these?” you asked, taking peter’s arm again. peter shook his head. “way too long ago.”

with a smile, you walked him over and took a seat on one of the swings. peter sat on the one next to you. you spun around in a circle to see how much you could twist the chains, peter laughing. “y/n, what are you doing?” “having fun. you should try it sometime.” he backed up to get himself started and grabbed his own chains. “i do have fun. it’s just not in the ways you think.”

you untwisted yourself to watch peter. “so, how?” “well,” he started going higher, “i like learning about stuff, even the things we have to in school.” “everybody knows that. that’s the first thing i thought of.” you did know everything possible about him.

everything except his new feelings for you, but this wasn’t the time for him to blurt that out. he was still figuring out when or if he should.

“guess i’m not gonna say i like movies, either.” “singing?” you were swinging next to him, turning it into an unspoken competiton for who could get the highest. peter slowed down a bit since he’d had a head start. “i suck. the only person who’s allowed to hear me is you.”

“it’s possible to suck at something and still enjoy it.” the breeze blew your hair around, peter seeing it from the corner of his eye. he’d always loved how carefree you were around him. it rubbed off.

“remind me to force you to do karaoke one day.” “you’re so annoying.” that motivated you to kick off harder on the ground. peter huffed and tried to catch up to you. “don’t be mean to your only source of fun.” if that wasn’t true, he would’ve came up with a comeback.

the only time peter remembered to relax was when he was with you. it was usually because you reminded him. he skidded to a stop on the swing and looked up at you.

“why’d you let me win? was that too mean?” you looked over your shoulder. “nah, i just got tired.” “oh. we can do something else now. catch me?” “sure,” peter chuckled and got off the swing. he stood in front of you on the grass and waited for you to get lower. you clenched your teeth into a nervous smile.

“ready?” “ready.” swinging towards him, you jumped off and expected to land in his arms. you ended up completely on top of him instead.

the wind was knocked out of both of you, but peter had it worse because he broke your fall. your hands were on his shoulders and one of his was around your lower back. neither of you realized the position you were in. you were too busy trying to breathe again.

“god, that hurt.” “my bad,” peter mumbled. in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be complaining about this. “i should’ve warned you or something,” you dismissed him.

you were still hovering over peter, your lips dangerously close to his. he could’ve sworn they almost touched. that was when you got off of him. he only forced out a laugh. nothing ever went his way. you offered him a hand, oblivious to his inner conflict. peter took it and pulled himself up, falling into step next to you as you headed to another path.

that could’ve been a chance to make some sort of move, and he blew it.

♡ 4.

it hadn’t been easy for peter to move on from that day. his mind kept replaying the split second you almost kissed on an endless loop, and all he could do was come up with what he should’ve done in the moment.

things were getting to a point where he had no clue how to act around you. being your friend was hard, but becoming your boyfriend would be that much harder. his stupid feelings put him in an awkward place, and he was afraid you were starting to realize. he couldn’t lose you altogether.

you asked peter to meet you for coffee after school. it was this small place in between your apartments you’d both been to once before. they had really good cookies and an overall cozy feeling you liked. peter wasn’t sure what this was all about.

were you going to confront him? did ned say something? maybe it was a mistake to confide in his most gossipy friend about how he felt.

with a headache from stress and a heavy backpack hanging off his shoulders, peter walked into the café. he spotted you at a table near the window. you’d already taken the liberty of ordering, two drinks and a chocolate chip cookie waiting there. you looked up from your phone when peter pulled a chair out.

“hi.” you gave him a small smile and put your phone down. “i already got everything.” peter shrugged off his backpack with a grin. he sat down facing you. “thanks. sorry i’m kinda late. i had to stop at my locker.” you usually met him there. come to think of it, why hadn’t you today? you pushed peter’s drink over to him. “you’re fine. i came here early to get us a table, anyway.” phew.

peter bent the straw to his iced macchiato and took a sip. it made him feel grown up, casually drinking coffee with you over a boring conversation. adult life must’ve sucked. “so, how was the rest of your day?” he asked to fill the silence. you only had two classes without him after lunch, so that was a dumb question. he’d never had so much trouble talking to you.

“eh. betty fell asleep on me during this cold war documentary we had to watch.” “didn’t she say american history is her favorite?” you broke off a piece of the cookie with a laugh. “not after that. what about your day?” the light from the window was shining directly on you, blocking out everything else from peter’s view. he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were so bad, but that would be creepy.

you took a bite of your cookie and raised an eyebrow. he was staring. “uh, nothing interesting. i’m gonna patrol a little bit later.” peter sipped his drink again. you clicked your tongue and let out a breath. “that’s all you do these days.” he knew you were catching on to how off he’d been. what was he supposed to say? it would’ve helped if he’d prepared a few excuses.

“just trying to help out while i’m still here.” that was a half truth. “yeah, but you should still take some time for yourself.” you ripped open your straw wrapper and blew it at peter. he caught it just before it hit his face. rolling your eyes, you put the straw into your drink. “i hate your reflexes sometimes.” he shrugged one of his shoulders casually. “jealousy is a disease.”

neither of you said anything for a few minutes. you stared out the window while peter finished the rest of the cookie. he could tell something was on your mind. whenever you were deep in your thoughts, you sort of zoned out like this.

he was too nervous to ask you what was wrong because of the conversation you just had. it sounded like you had already considered he was being distant before today. his feelings aside, he needed to reassure you. that was more important.

“y/n?” you turned your head to look at him. “yeah?” peter’s gaze shifted from you to his thumbs twiddling in his lap. “i know we’ve both been really... busy lately, but i’m still here. don’t forget that.” a hint of a smile played on your lips. you would’ve hugged him if you could reach. “thank you, peter. i kinda needed to hear that.” he nudged your leg under the table. “of course. hey, you wanna come with me tonight?”

a couple of hours later, you were in peter’s arms on a rooftop that was much higher up than it looked. he insisted on taking you for a swing so you could get the full experience. he’d been trying to get you to do this for the longest time, so he wondered what made you agree today. you wanted to find out what was so enjoyable about it.

“i trust you, but you’re not gonna drop me, right?” your legs were around his waist, and he had one hand supporting you by your back. that wasn’t terrifying at all. you grabbed peter’s shoulders, the idea of it making you nervous. he wrapped his arm tighter around you.

“oh my god, no. i can always web you back up.” “peter! that’s not funny.” even behind the mask, you could tell he was smirking. “you’re always safe with me, squirt. don’t worry.” you brought your arms up to loop around his neck.

“i feel better now.” “good. i’m gonna jump when we get to the edge, okay?“ your whole body stiffened up. peter could sense it. as excited as he was to share this with you, he didn’t want to make you feel pressured. “or we don’t have to do it.” his voice was quiet. you tried to relax in his hold. “i’m just gonna close my eyes. i think that’ll help.” “we’re about to find out.”

peter started walking towards the edge of the building with you holding on even tighter to him, your eyes squeezed shut. he kept finding himself in situations where he was close to you in the ways he’d been wishing for, but never for the same reasons. it was bittersweet.

he bit down on his lip and aimed his free hand at a building. you squealed when he leaned back. “i’m jumping now,” he prepared you, and before you could respond, you were in the air. you hid your face in peter’s chest the second you felt yourself pretty much flying.

“what the fuck, you like this?” you had to yell so he could hear you. peter shot another web to keep swinging. “it’s really not that bad! try looking up!” he shouted back, clearly amused.

grip tightening around his neck, you slowly pulled your face away from him. he kept you close as he swung. you somehow convinced yourself you weren’t going to die by looking at something besides peter. your eyes landed on the sky behind his head.

the sun was almost completely set, deep pink and orange merging together against the glowing lights of the city. you were finally understanding why he liked this so much. it was beautiful.

peter peeked at you for a second to check on you. he swore his heart was going to explode out of his chest. the look of adoration on your face, it was even better than the view. it was the view. the little moments where peter got to see you this way made him realize how in love with you he really was.

“this is... wow. i get it now,” you laughed in disbelief, watching as the city whirled past you. peter smiled so big it hurt. “pretty awesome, huh?” one of your hands slid back down to his shoulder. “take me with you more often.”

♡ 5.

peter licked his lips out of habit as he held the door open for may, who was following behind him with a look of pride. he was about to graduate high school. the ceremony was being held in a really nice stadium-like place. trying to find it added minutes on to the parker tradition of being late to everything important.

peter wasn’t as concerned with his tardiness as he was with finding you.

while he tossed and turned in bed the night before, he went over his whole school year in his head. that meant little things and big things. he was starting to drift off until he remembered a conversation with ned a few weeks back. they decided on a deadline for peter to tell you about his feelings, and it was before graduation.

they chose it because if peter got rejected, he’d be over it by the time college started. that was the goal.

it wasn’t that peter had changed his mind. it was that he completely forgot. he didn’t have a solid plan for what he should do. these things needed to be decided way in advance. he ended up pulling something together last minute because it was you. plus, this extra pressure gave him the push to go through with it. somewhere between steps seven and eight, he passed out.

may rushed him to get ready because he’d slept past his alarm. the whole morning was a mess, and he had at most fifteen minutes to confess his love to you by the time he got there.

“you should go make sure you’re marked here. i’ll see you after. love you.” may pressed a kiss to his cheek and half-jogged to the auditorium for a seat. he squeezed her arm and headed off to check in. your whole grade was already lined up along the walls for what looked like miles. the deal was to tell you before graduation. he still had about ten minutes.

peter walked past hundreds of students with his heartbeat thumping in his ears. everyone was in alphabetical order, so it didn’t take too long to find you. relief washed over you when you saw peter. you were worried he wouldn’t show up at all. his cap was in his hand, hair getting tangled from running his fingers through it. he looked at you with pleading eyes.

“finally, i’ve been trying to call you all morning. where were you?” your tone was dripping with concern. “i overslept. there’s something i gotta tell you, y/n.” he gulped. you smiled in a way that was kind of pitying. “we’re about to start going inside. i- you have to wait, pete. go get lined up.”

this wasn’t how it was going to end. not again.

he looked around to see who was watching, then he grabbed your wrist. “peter, what are you-“ “just come with me really quick.” despite yourself, you let him lead you down the hallway. you dodged a couple of teachers having a conversation and went into a bathroom that was vacant by some chance. he let go of you after the door shut. you stood behind it while he walked over to a sink.

it was making you anxious to not be out there. you could be late. peter was the same way when it came to school, so you knew this had to be pretty serious. you gave up the battle with yourself and made your way over to him. he was looking at himself in the mirror, trying to get a stray curl back in place.

“let me help.” you stood next to him. he turned to face you, that same look of urgency still in his eyes. you used two fingers to brush through his hair. there was so much gel that it was wet enough to mess with. you smiled a bit and took your hand out of his hair. his hand was gripping the sink.

“you look good, pete. you smell good, too.” “so do you.” his voice was lower than usual. you flattened out the material of your blue gown. “thanks. so, talk to me. what’s up?”

the question was so simple, but way too many answers were running through peter’s brain. he wasn’t even sure he’d have enough time to explain everything now. this was why he needed a written out and carefully crafted plan.

but, like he said to himself last night, this was you. his best friend in the entire world and any other that might exist. the person who’s been there for his most embarrassing moments, and who’s been responsible for some of his best ones. if he couldn’t finally say the three words he’d said to you so many times before, what was the point?

his fingers drummed a steady rhythm while he mustered up the last remaining bit of courage in him. you watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. “just, um...” he was stalling. he pulled his hand off the sink. “i... love you.” peter only glanced at you for a second, too afraid to see your reaction. “i love you, too. is everything okay?” his heart sank. you thought he meant it in the friend way.

that was what he got for being so terrible with words.

“no, y/n. not like that.” he blurted. you were lost. peter pressed his back against the wall and sat down. confused and equally worried, you sat next to him on the floor. “then what do you mean? you’re scaring me.” he checked the watch may made him wear to see how much time was left before graduation. four minutes. he really should’ve woken up on time.

“we have to get back in line soon. i don’t wanna miss-“ “i love you, y/n. i’m in love with you.” a weight that had been on peter’s chest for months was lifted just by saying it. you squinted your eyes at him, but said nothing.

“i’ve been trying to tell you for a while, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i just had to say it.” “fuck, are you serious?” you sounded what peter could only describe as disappointed. yeah, it was unrequited. here came a summer of crying. “i was gonna tell you first.”

peter’s breath hitched in his throat, and he swore you could hear it. he was so sleep deprived that it felt like he was hallucinating. you shook your head as heat came to your cheeks.

“how long have you...” peter trailed off, an eye crinkling smile interrupting him. “that day we went for coffee. something clicked, so i thought for a while and figured it out. i think i’ve loved you for a really long time.”

you inched closer to peter, just barely resting your head on his shoulder. for once, you felt like the shy one. he put his hand on top of yours. his thumb traced over each of your fingers. “i’d ask you out, but you know. we don’t really have time.”

“peter, it won’t take that long.” you giggled. he squeezed your hand in his. “hm. y/n, would you wanna go out with me after this?” you thought about teasing him for it, but he was right. you had to go. that was the friend still in you. “i’d love to go out with you, peter.”

with that, you both jumped to your feet and ran out of the bathroom. you were still holding hands, and a few classmates made faces when you rushed past them to get to your spots. you exchanged one last smile with peter before lining up.

the person in front of you said everybody was looking for you two. honestly, you didn’t care all that much. you were too excited for your date later. peter already knew he’d be checking his watch throughout the whole ceremony.

it was a best friend and soulmate thing.

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland writing #spiderman #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #marvel #mcu #tom holland oneshot

[thisissirius]

so apparently my brain needed to write this before it could write anything else. it’s not the kind of fic i want to attach to a prompt so i’m posting it as is. 

some things to note; this is extremely personal to my situation right now. i write to deal with my feelings and that’s what this is. i’m okay, i promise. or at least i’m getting close to okay. but i’m working on it! 

i will not be offended if you don’t want to read :)

it’s an open ending because i don’t know the ending to my own story but in my head, he beats it <3

(i researched this because obvs i am female and eddie is not)

be my help eddie/buck, cancer

“I think you might have an infection.” Buck’s nose wrinkles as he frowns and Eddie traces the lines of it. He doesn’t want to look at the wound, at what it represents. Buck’s fingers are light as he puts on the new bandage. “Though the inflammation is here,” he continues, thumb grazing the skin around Eddie’s nipple. “It feels warm. Does it hurt?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Not really. There’s been blood a couple of times but I assumed it was from the wound.”

With another nod, Buck finishes dressing the wound. There’s a tightness to his mouth that spells a research binge—and possibly a call to the doctor—but Eddie’s content to let him handle it. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, curling his fingers around Buck’s wrist. He runs a thumb over Buck’s pulse point. “For everything.”

Buck’s cheeks tinge pink, but he looks pleased. “You’re welcome. Come on, Chris’ll be home soon and there’s still dinner to do.”

Eddie can’t forget about the inflammation; 

Buck’s frown gets progressively more pronounced with every passing day, and Eddie’s starting to feel it. His skin is warm, there’s been spotty blood on his shirts, and it looks puffy and inflamed. It’s not until Eddie takes off his shirt one night to get ready for bed and sees just how swollen it is, that he ends up calling for Buck. 

It’s been a few days since Buck’s stayed over; he’s taking extra shifts because Eddie’s struggling with finances—and if Eddie thinks about that too much, he’ll feel sick with guilt—and he looks tired when he stands in the doorway. When his eyes rise to Eddie’s nipple, his face shifts into shock and a touch of horror. “Fuck.”

“It’s only been like this yesterday and today,” Eddie says, because he doesn’t want Buck to think he missed it. “I don’t think it’s an infection.”

Buck hums and steps forward. “It could be,” but he doesn’t sound certain. “We should take you to the emergency room.”

Eddie doesn’t really want to. “Buck—”

“Eddie,” Buck says. There’s something in his voice, his face, that makes Eddie take notice. “Trust me, I think we need to get a doctor’s opinion.”

“Chris,” Eddie says, searching for something to keep them here, safe in his home. 

Buck doesn’t look happy when he says, “We’ll take him with us.” Eddie opens his mouth to answer, to say something else, but he stops short at the tremble in Buck’s tone. “Please, Eddie. I think this is something we need to get checked out.”

Eddie sits. And sits. And sits.

Chris is asleep on Buck’s lap. He’s tucked under Buck’s chin, breath even, and Eddie can’t help but rest a hand on his leg. Buck’s talking in a low voice, information Eddie’s not really taking in, but it’s soothing. The emergency room is always horrible, no less when it’s personal instead of work related, and he leans more heavily into Buck. 

“Alright?” Buck asks, trailing off. “I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

Three has given way to five, and Eddie’s got no doubt they’ll still be sitting here at seven in the morning. He’s glad neither of them are working, but Buck’s gotta be dead tired. “You should go home.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline and Eddie only realises what that implies when the words are out. “Eddie—”

“No,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “I meant you don’t have to be here, now, when you could be sleeping.”

Expression softening, Buck’s lips quirk into a tired smile. “I wouldn’t be able to settle. I’d be worried about you.”

Eddie’s chest goes tight with emotion and he smiles back. Something feels different between them since the shooting, but he can’t pinpoint what it is. Maybe it’s the loss of Ana from his life; Eddie knows Buck wasn’t happy for whatever reason. Breaking up with her had been easy after that because Buck’s happiness means everything. 

“Edmundo Diaz?”

“Come on,” Buck says gently, readjusting Chris, who makes a soft noise. “Let’s get you checked out.”

“Breast cancer,” Eddie repeats. “I thought—”

Silence. 

“I thought it was women,” he admits. “I didn’t think it could happen to men.”

To me is what he means. 

Buck’s hand is the only thing tethering him to the moment, fingers tight in Eddie’s. He looks calm, calmer than Eddie thinks he should. “What stage?”

Eddie swallows. “You knew?”

“Suspected,” Buck says, looking guilty. Eddie squeezes his hand. He’s not really sure what his emotions are doing, but he needs to make sure Buck’s okay. One of them needs to be. “I went online and I know I shouldn’t look,” he says, more to the doctor than to Eddie, “but it seemed too far from the wound to be related.”

“Perhaps not unrelated,” the doctor says. His voice is calm, almost soothing, and Eddie hates it, though he can’t pinpoint why. Maybe he’s trying not to wake Chris, but Eddie suspects it’s more that he doesn’t want to spook Eddie. Fuck. “It’s true that we don’t always know what causes cancer—”

“I don’t care,” Eddie says. His voice sounds far away. “Can it—like Buck said, what stage?”

The doctor looks at him and is silent for long enough that Eddie can feel whatever stability he’s got left spiralling away. “If it is cancer, which we’re not completely sure of, it will be stage three or four; advanced because of the symptoms, but still treatable.”

Eddie drops Buck’s hand to press the palms of his hands to his eyes. There’s a burn in his eyes, something heavy settling in his stomach. He can hear Buck talking, feel the hand on the back of his neck, but it’s almost as if he’s not in the room. “I want to go home.”

“I know,” Buck says softly, stroking a hand down Eddie’s back. To the doctor he says, “thanks. You’ll let us know about the appointments?”

The moments slip away from him; he doesn’t remember leaving the office, or getting into the car. Doesn’t know how he and Chris both end up strapped in and moving; he can feel the gear shifts, the radio playing softly. Chris is snorting in the back seat, and Buck’s breathing seems oddly loud in the truck; maybe it’s Eddie—he doesn’t feel as if he’s there. 

“What am I gonna do,” he says, breathless. 

Buck reaches over, hand on Eddie’s thigh. “You can fight this.”

Eddie’s eyes burn again and he turns away, glances in the rearview mirror. “What am I supposed to tell Chris?”

A pause. Buck’s fingers squeeze. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and even to his own voice he sounds wrecked. “I can’t—”

Buck pulls over, shifts into park and leans over, hand to Eddie’s face. “Listen to me,” he says, foreheads touching. Eddie closes his eyes and hangs on. “I’ll be here every second, okay? I promise, Eddie, whatever happens, we’ll get through it.”

The fatalistic part of Eddie thinks it can’t be that easy but the rest of him wants to lean on Buck, to take the comfort he’s offering. “If it’s cancer—”

“Then you’ll look over treatment, figure out what you want, and we’ll tackle it like we do everything else.” Buck’s thumb runs over Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve got your back, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, leans into Buck. He can still hear Chris in the back seat. He knows there’s so much left unknown, but he’s got Buck, right here, and together they’ll protect Chris. He knows even if he does—if they can’t—if anything happens, Buck’s got Chris. 

“Stop it,” Buck says, running his thumbs under Eddie’s eyes. He’s wiping away tears and Eddie blinks, surprised; he’s not sure when they started. “You can fight this.”

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, because he desperately wants to believe he can. His mouth forms the words before his brain can catch up and stop them, “I’m scared.”

Something in Buck’s expression breaks, but he presses forward, touching their foreheads together. “I know, Eds. It’s okay to be, but I promise, no matter what, I’m gonna be here.”

Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat, leans into Buck’s touch on his cheek, the fingers curling around the back of his neck. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Buck says without hesitation, his voice low and husky. “I promise.”

Kissing the corner of Buck’s mouth is easy. Turning his face into Buck’s neck is even easier. Listening to the thump of Buck’s heartbeat, the words of comfort and promise Buck whispers in his ear makes even the darkest thoughts in his head quieten down. 

“I’ve got you,” Buck promises. 

“I know,” Eddie says, and he means it.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #911 fic #fic by me #cancer tw

[kuekyuuq]

Gloria, Jet-lags and Imps [6x11]

Let’s jump right in:

Kinda love how Kara lamp-shaded addressed the fact she didn't tell the gang about her adventures in the PZ. She’s not wrong, tho.

...what do I want to say about Mxy using what's basically a well-known gay-anthem to tell his tale? I mean, it didn’t lead anywhere. The original song is about freeing oneself, liberation, stepping out of a (gone bad) relationship and moving on, stronger for it - empowerment. The only connection I could make, is that originally it was Nyxly’s aim to just do that (freeing herself and her kind from an oppressor), but in the way Mxy performed it, that part of the parallel was long over before he even reached the chorus. It’s also a popular Karaoke song, tho, so... he chose it because it’s catchy? I’ll try not to overthink it for now. At least, the Superfriend’s reactions were fun.

Nia exiting the elevator, "And what's this Old Stone?" I love it when ppl enter a room / situation and pick up on words that they couldn't have possibly heard. I think cinema sins ding such... Are we to assume, she dreamed Mxy's rendition of ‘I will survive’? Or is the elevator not sound-proof at all? (If it’s the latter, Nia later apparently telling Brainy “in private” between scenes / during the elevator ride about her Nyxly adventures, was a silly thing to do.)

So, "Jared" created the ring Old Stone to rule them all, it got shattered into the Paragons totems? Nyxly needs the totems and to get them she needs a crystal which also belonged to "Jared" - who happens to be Mxy's ancestor, which is why she needs Mxy / his blood, too.

I have one important and incredibly relevant question here, tho... 

With the introduced imps and their names... Why’s dude named Jared of all things?!

Really, did I mishear that? If so, I’ll leave it as is and never edit, bc that would be hilarious in its own right 😋

...

Not sure what to make about Supergirl paraphrasing a Dirty Dancing quote.  "Nobody puts Mxy into a power crystal on my watch."  ...is he Baby now? (Seriously, though: Which of the writers thought that was a fitting quote to use in that particular context?)

...now, is the exposition section of the episode over yet?

Sensitive Brainy sensed something was up with Nia. He can relate... Nia doubting Kara would understand, too, is ridiculous. But I get it... insecurities and all. But, I mean, just 5 minutes later Kara announces she wants to save Nyxly despite her wrongdoings. And yet Nia still remains convinced, Kara wouldn’t forgive her own personal mini-me... After having witnessed Kara forgiving Lena for a whole season of the writers being stupid messing up to the nth degree. But I digress, Lena’s Lena.

...how old is Nia meant to be again? Just asking out of completely unrelated curiosity.

F*ck. They really went with NewFoundland...

Imma assume it was an executive choice after realizing they couldn’t find enough actors and actresses with a convincing Irish accent... maybe. Again, no offense to Newfoundland! Just... we got the insinuations of Ireland, not Newfoundland... And truthfully, when I think of magic, Ireland is an easy association. Whereas I only due to this whole debacle learned Newfoundland has Irish ancestry. So, okay, the show forced me to learn something new... I give ‘em that.

An easy journey, she said.

Lena's been off-screen for two whole episodes, Kara announcing at the beginning of ‘Dreamweaver’ [6x09] Lena being “back east” (at least insinuating Lena’s left the west-coast already), which span over at least one full day (feat. a scene at night), and ‘I still rise’ [6x10] at least another a whole day (the whole Nia’s mom back for a day deal). And, now, after at least 48 hours she barely just arrived.

Lemme check how long a regular plane would need to fly from California to NFL......... ... .. .. So... approx. 10 hours with at least one layover. 

Yeah, using a private jet made it easier, but apparently also much, much slower...

Or, Lena randomly went some other places / did some sight-seeing in NFL before she decided to finally visit her mother’s hometown...  [Either that or the timelines don’t match up and Lena’s scenes are flashbacks of sorts.]

Optimistic and relaxed Lena is a sight to behold. I rewound 3 times, just to enjoy it for as long as possible. We all knew it was going to be short-lived... 

Let’s check off a few more items...

OMG, Kara hiding behind Alex at the mere sight of the PZ-projector broke my heart!  😢

"Elisabeth Walsh" is the new 'the one you shall not name'. ...poor Lena. 😭

Oh, so Mxy wants to be Patrick Swayze instead of Baby... gotcha.

...is this going anywhere?

KITTY!!! Okay, this must be the best opponent in the history of CWSG. 

Despite the horrible CGI, SG using her heat-vision to project a laser-beam to distract the cat had me in (happy-) tears! 🤣

Gotta love the civilians of National City quickly returning to business as usual once the giant cat is gone. Even the police officers looked rather chill...

Nyxly did look fabulous this episode ^^ 

Andrea being Lena's rock is both great and annoying. I can't fault Andrea. It's just, that we still have to see an on-screen interaction between Lena and Kara and that bugs the heck out of me. I can’t help it. I’m sorry, Andrea.

Nia: "...is my fault." Kara: "Nu, is MY fault!" J'onn: "Stop fighting, kids!" Space-dad has spoken.

Mxy used an LuthorCorp copy machine... and of cos it's faulty. It's not an L-Corp product.

Kara forgiving Nia came as a surprise to her... Oooookay. I mean, the show has been writing Kara a bit inconsistently the past two seasons... so, yeah, maybe being unsure which of her traits apply this week was not such a far stretch...

Maybe it's the hair, but I wished, Florence was played by Alex Kingston.

So, not-Alex-Kingston shows Lena herself with a funny wig and tells her how her mother was still watching her...

If it wasn't for Katie's acting skills (I love her.) I would have already hit my head against the wall repeatedly. Something about these scenes had me constantly cringe and I made it through 5.5 seasons of this show already... Can’t quite put my finger on it, but it was highly distracting from the story that explained Lena’s mom was special even to another witch, where there was domestic abuse, and an accidental murder. Y’know, important stuff, deep-cutting stuff! 

At least, poor widddle Lena got some closure there. Elisabeth was a good cookie. And filled with magic. And Lena’s gotta have that ‘spark’, too... 

....so... Lena’s gonna stay in NFL for how much longer, to train becoming a witch?  Please, just hand her a how-to manual and send her back home, to figure it out on her own, please... (Yes, that would be horrible decision-making, but I need her back with the team!)

On to the finish line: 

So... Mxy IS Nyxly's brother? Wait, that doesn’t sound right... then Nyxly would have the same blood... Did I miss something? Can someone explain, please? Or is he her ex, and that’s where his rendition of “I will survive” makes sense?

Hnn... I can't help, but think Kara's speech for Nyxly was 85% based on her experiences with Lena in s05.

Awww... he said "stronger together"... Mxy... I hope, you'll be okay!

Lena believes in magic now. And I absolutely love how Lena wants to science magic XD

...but apparently magic isn’t science that hasn’t been explained yet, but parallel... powers? concepts? ether strings?

Nyxly has a loyal henchman now. Which was a bit heavy-handed. Took way too much of screen-time, so it better leads to something interesting.

And Kara is on a warpath now. Wooooot! Girl’s got enough.

...what else? 

Did I miss a third Patrick Swayze hint / quote / mention?  I learned, these things come in threes... Y’know, basic writing rules... 

I guess, for once the episode title was meant to be taken literally, Mxy popping up between characters, to try and help. (I need in-show footage, of Mxy sneaking up on ppl, without his powers, on all fours / crouched, just to get the desired effect.) I mean, I’ve never really watched Malcom, but wasn’t he like what Mxy usually is? A bit of a trouble-maker, prankster, chaos-ensuing wherever he goes? ...well, in that case, the episode title didn’t hold up, as Mxy’s scenes were not fun or really goofy. Yes, there was some superficial humor, but just to serve Mxy dealing with not being able to use his powers, which in turn was only barely scratched at (although it turned out to be his final character development crisis, appreciating not having powers and - in turn - facing consequences for once). Again, a whole lot going on in the episode, so a lot of that may have ended up on the cutting-room floor.

...where’s Kelly? Secretly adopting a kid, maybe?

...Kara’s still a reporter, right? I mean, whenever it serves the immediate plot, yes? ...Not even a throw-away line, that she has to pop up at CatCo for appearances sake? Since Andrea is already upset with her AND looking into her friends’ identities? At least, Kara should take a peek to make sure Andrea hasn’t uncovered anything yet... No?

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. Kue out.

#Supergirl #supercorp #Mxy in the middle #6x11 #mxy #nyxly #lena luthor #magic #lena's mom #fiction dissected #fandom #episode #Nia nal #dreamer #brainy #brainia

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Change

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 4346

Content Warnings - angst, lots of fluff, happy endings, pre-relationship stuff (Mammon does call you ‘babe’ but I consider that a GN endearment)

Prompt/Inspiration - none

Summary -  You over hear Mammon talking to some demons at RAD, and both of you are forced to confront your feelings.

AO3

Classes had just finished at RAD, and you were heading towards the main gates to meet up with Satan so you could walk home together. Normally Mammon would escort you, but you had planned on staying after today to work on an assignment and told him not to wait for you. It worked out, however, that you had been able to finish your work during a free period in the library, so you got to leave early.

As you walked along, a familiar voice found its way to your ears and you broke out into a wide smile. Mammon was still at RAD and hadn’t left yet! Maybe he’d be able to join you on the way home? There was so much you had wanted to talk to him about, and you looked forward to this time together after every school day.

When you had first arrived here in the Devildom, your mere presence seemed to annoy him and he took advantage of every opportunity to dump you with his brothers and make himself scarce. But things had changed. Though he never said it, you were almost certain he was in love with you. His brothers would tease him about it regularly and it always left him so flustered and embarrassed.

And the truth was, you loved him too. Unconditionally. You knew how hard he tried to do the right thing, even if his plans often ended in disaster. And you admired how he was always looking out for his brothers, and didn’t even look for any acknowledgement - in fact, he preferred it that way. They didn’t know it was him who bought Levi’s new games when he had missed the preorder window, or that he had arranged for an entire truck load of Beel’s favorite pudding to be delivered after he had eaten the last cup that Beel had been saving. He had his reputation to maintain after all. And being thoughtful and considerate was not the look he was going for.

Mammon never failed to make you smile either. And while he was the biggest scaredy cat you had ever met (how was it even possible for demons to be scared of ghosts?), he always showed up to protect you when it mattered. Yeah, it stung sometimes when he’d intentionally keep his distance from you to avoid the teasing of his brothers, but you knew whenever you were alone with him that he treasured you more than anything.

These thoughts in mind, you quickened your pace and headed towards the sound of his voice.

“Hey Mammon, are you coming out with us tonight? That new club opened up.”

“Nah, ‘got babysittin’ duty tonight courtesy of Lucifer.”

“Babysitting duty? You’re still following that pathetic human around?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, rooted to the spot. The laughter of the other demons echoed in the now empty halls. You knew you should move. You needed to leave. This was not a conversation you should be listening to. And every fiber of your being said you should get out of there before you regret it. But still, you couldn’t get your feet to move.

“Ya know how it is. They’re so fragile. It’s not like I wanna be stuck with ‘em. But I can’t exactly let ‘em die either.”

“MC?”

You gave a small yelp as you spun around to find Satan behind you. It seemed you had taken too long to meet up with him so he had gone looking for you out of concern for your safety. You stared at him for a moment struggling to even process what he was doing there. But your brain was stuck on a loop of Mammon’s voice saying, “It's not like I wanna be stuck with ‘em,” on repeat over and over again.

“Um yeah, fine. See ya,” you numbly replied to Satan before you took off running. You just had to get back to your room. And now. Fast. You could feel your cheeks heating up and the pressure building behind your eyes. Just a little further, you thought, as you pushed yourself to run even harder than you knew you were capable of. Just a little further.

————

Satan stood there stunned. He had no idea why the hell you had taken off like that, nor had he understood your bizarre response when he had greeted you. Had he done something? He couldn’t think of anything since he hadn’t spoken to you since he saw you in the library earlier that afternoon.

That was when Mammon stuck his head out from around the corner. He could have sworn he heard your voice, but you were nowhere to be found. Weird. You had told him that he shouldn’t wait for you, but he had decided to anyway. The highlight of his day was walking home with you from school, so he wasn’t about to miss out on that just because you had to stay late. He had decided not to tell you, because he didn’t want to admit that out loud, but he had worked out the perfect cover story to explain why he would show up *just* as you were leaving RAD.

“Mammon.”

He jumped with a start before noticing Satan just on the other side of the corner.

“Holy crap. Why ya gotta sneak up on me like that?!”

“What. Did. You. Do.” Satan replied, emphasizing every word. He didn’t know what Mammon had said or done, but there was no way his presence and your sudden absence were unrelated. He couldn’t be sure, but he knew his brother well enough to know he had doubtless said something he shouldn’t have.

“Do?! I have no idea whattya talkin’ about! Honest! I was just hangin’ out with some friends. I swear!”

“Then why did MC take off running?”

“They WHAT?!”

Mammon’s face blanched. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. There was no way you had overheard him right? Nah, you couldn’t have. He would have known you were there. You would have said hi at least. You always said hi. Yeah Satan had to be mistaken. That couldn’t possibly be why you had left.

But try as he might to convince himself he wasn’t to blame - Mammon knew. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew. That sinking feeling in his stomach was proof enough for him.

“Fix it,” said Satan, narrowing his eyes at Mammon, “Fix it or I tell Lucifer.” And with that he walked off to find you to make sure you had gotten home safely, despite his idiot of a brother. Why you enjoyed Mammon’s company was beyond him. But he knew how happy the scumbag made you, for better or worse, and that was the only reason he wasn’t giving Mammon a public thrashing right now. He at least had to give him a chance to talk to you, for your sake.

————

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep when you heard a knock at your door. You weren’t in any condition to talk to anyone right now, so you hoped if you just laid there quietly for long enough they’d assume you were still asleep and leave.

But this wasn’t just anyone knocking at your door. It was Mammon. The most persistent demon in the entire Devildom, that also lacked that crucial ability to read a room and know when to leave well enough alone.

“HEY! MC! I know you’re in there. I gotta talk to ya. Open up.”

You let out a heavy sigh, and rose from your bed to go open the door. You knew better than most that there was no getting rid of Mammon at this point. He had decided to talk to you, so talk to you was what he was going to do, and you knew he was likely to break down the door itself if you made him wait too long.

So, without a word, you let him inside.

Before you had even had time to sit down on the edge of your bed, he had launched into a long winded, frantic explanation and apology. He had been joking. He didn’t mean it. You know how he is. He gets nervous.

“Mammon. It’s ok.”

He stopped mid sentence and took a good look at you. You certainly did not look ok. Your eyes were red. There were still dried tears staining your cheeks. Your hair was a disaster. There was no way you were ok, not while you looked like that.

Feeling a bit self conscious, you ran your fingers through your hair to hopefully at least get the tangles out, and flatten the lumps. It was probably a useless gesture, but you still had to try if you wanted Mammon to stop staring at you any time soon.

“You don’t look ok.”

Of course, trust Mammon to state the obvious. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. This was one of the things you had loved about him after all. It was part of his charm.

“Um thanks? I guess? I just meant you didn’t have to worry about me anymore. It’s ok. I got it.”

“Whattya talkin’ about?! What do you get?? You haven’ even listened ta me yet!”

You gave Mammon a small smile. He was trying so hard to figure this out and talk to you. You just had to appreciate that. You knew how difficult it was for him to articulate things sometimes, and talking about his feelings with you was particularly challenging for him.

“Look, I was being foolish. I got caught up in my own thoughts and began to expect things I shouldn’t, and I put pressure on you that you didn’t need. But I’ve cleared my head now and found a new perspective so you don’t have to worry. Honest. I’ll get Beel to start walking with me. It’ll be fine.”

Mammon was stunned. He had no idea what you were carrying on about. You expected things? You pressured him? When have you ever done that? The only thing you ever expected of him was for him to be himself, and he naturally just wanted to be the best version of himself he could for you. He wanted to make you proud of him. The fact that you never pressured him to change was one of the things he loved about you too. You accepted him and all his flaws, and you were always there to help him out of a tight spot or encourage him when he was feeling out of sorts.

And he loved you so much it hurt. Even though he knew he could never tell you, and knew you would never return his feelings, he still wanted to spend every second he could with you and make you smile so much you’d never forget him.

You sighed again. You could tell Mammon wasn’t understanding what you were saying. You had tried to avoid saying it directly because your emotions were still raw, but it looked like you had no choice but to rip off the bandaid and just get it all out there. Otherwise who knew how long it would take for him to understand?

“I love you, Mammon.”

Well, that was not what he was expecting.

“I love you very much. More than I thought possible. But I realize that I was projecting my feelings onto you and reading into things more than I should. Even though I had no reason to believe you felt the same, I still convinced myself you did. And I treated you like we were more than just friends. I shouldn’t have done that and put pressure on you. So, I’m sorry.”

You had been staring at your hands while you spoke, so you didn’t see when Mammon’s face flushed scarlet or when a few tears leaked out from the corners of his eyes. You also didn’t notice that he was about to wrap you up in the tightest, bone crushing hug of your life.

“I love you too,” he whispered, “so so much.”

By now you were laying flat on your back on your bed after being tackled by Mammon, practically immobilized as he buried his face into your neck and confessed his love to you. With what limited motion you had, you managed to wrap one of your arms around his back, rubbing it gently as he cried tears of happiness.

Now it was your turn to be at a loss for words. He loved you? You had realized when you had overheard him talking to his school friends that he was just being his usual awkward self. That wasn’t really what had upset you, not on its own at least. It wasn’t the first time he had said similar things to cover up his own embarrassment and you had gotten used to speaking “Mammon.”

No, what had gotten to you was the fact that you were forced to face the idea that you were nothing more than a friend to him. That was all you’d ever be. You’d finish up what remained of your year here, then you’d get sent back to the human realm, and he’d carry on with his life until he was introduced to a new exchange student whom he’d have to look after.

You weren’t his partner. He was never going to walk hand in hand with you through the halls of RAD, proudly showing you off to any demon that looked his way. That was all just a fantasy you had cooked up in your head due to your own loneliness and desire for love.

But now he was telling you that he loved you, and your brain was struggling to catch up with your heart, which had already started to run wild. All that work you had done convincing yourself to be more logical and not jump to conclusions was quickly unraveling. He loves you. He really loves you.

You wanted to give him a better hug, so you tried to wiggle your other arm free that was currently pinned to your side underneath him. But his grip on you only tightened, afraid you were about to push him away or take back what you said.

“Mammon, babe, can you at least let me hug you?”, you asked with a smirk as you tried to turn your head to face him, wiggling your arm again and hoping he’d get the message.

“Oh!”

He jumped back slightly, afraid he had been hurting you, which only made you laugh. With your arm now free you adjusted your position, returning his hug with one of your own, holding him as tightly and closely as possible. You leaned your head against his, giving him a small kiss by his ear, and repeated what you had said earlier - “I love you.”

Mammon pulled back a bit, trying to get a better view of your face. Now that he was calmer, he really wanted to get a good look at you. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t dreaming and that he wasn’t hallucinating. He needed to see you speak and hear those words as they left your lips.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

And with that, he proceeded to give you the best kiss you had ever had in your life.

————

Mammon was playing with your hair as you slept curled up by his side, your head resting on his chest. Your legs were tangled together with his, and he loved how close he was able to hold you now.

Part of his mind was still convinced this was all some sort of weird fever dream. Nothing this good ever happened to him. Maybe he’d score big at a casino sometime, but that paled in comparison to being able to hold you in his arms now. You really were all his. He didn’t have to share you with anyone, and if he didn’t like how another demon looked at you, well, he would just have to kiss you right in front of them to show them who you belonged to.

That thought made him chuckle. Who you belonged to? Pfft. You didn’t belong to anyone. If anything, he belonged to you. He had since the first day you met, though it took him a long time to admit it. But look at him now. He finally got to tell you how he felt, and he didn’t have to hide it from you anymore.

“What are you thinking about?”

Mammon’s hand stilled, “Sorry, did I wake ya?”

“No, I’ve been awake for awhile now. Just enjoying the peace and quiet I guess.” You gave him a squeeze with the arm that was around his chest. This was definitely a good way to wake up, and you hoped you’d be able to spend many more moments like this together with him.

“Well, I should probably head back to my room. It’ll be time for breakfast soon and the last thing I need is Lucifer’s naggin’ first thing in the morning.”

You whined and buried your face into his chest. You weren’t ready for him to leave yet.

Seeing you like that made Mammon impossibly happy. How could you be so cute? It shouldn’t be allowed. You shouldn’t be able to make him feel this loved just by clinging to him either.

You whined again, realizing that he was right. And as much as you wanted for this moment to continue and to never have to leave this bed again, there were still some questions that had to be answered before he left, and you realized you couldn’t avoid them any longer.

“So umm...about yesterday…”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Do you...umm…What do you intend to tell your friends?”

“My friends? Tell ‘em about what?”

“Me.”

Oh. Right. He forgot about that. Or more like he tried to forget. It had been sitting at the back of his mind since he woke up and realized he needed to go to school today. He had seriously considered just running off with you and trying to convince you that today was the perfect day for a trip, just to avoid having to deal with it.

Nothing had really been resolved yesterday. He knew that. After he kissed you, the two of you had just crawled into bed together to cuddle with some random movie playing in the background. The idea had been to watch the movie together, but all y’all had ended up doing was giggling and kissing and being generally silly, until you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“Mammon?”

His silence was making you nervous, so you propped yourself up to get a better look at him. It was too dark to make out any details of his expression, but you could tell that he was lost in thought and not really looking at you.

“Mammon?”, you called his name again, and this time he responded by giving you a gentle squeeze with the arm that had settled around your shoulder.

“Do we really need to tell them anythin’? I mean, it’s not like they are really my friends ya know? Just some demons I hang around with at RAD.”

You may have been a bit drowsy earlier, but now you were wide awake. You sat up so your legs were hanging over the edge of the bed, with your back to Mammon. You were so foolish. So incredibly foolish. Why oh why did you not stick to your guns and push him away when you had the chance yesterday? How could you be so stupid as to actually confess to him? Hadn’t you been trying to create some distance?

It didn’t matter how deeply you loved each other. That wouldn’t change the fact that Mammon cared a great deal about how he was perceived by others. It didn’t matter if those people (or demons) would never see him again. He could tell you all day about how little those not-really-friends of his meant to him, but when it came down to it he still cared about what they thought and feared their rejection.

And you knew this about him. For all his passion and kindness and sincerity - he was only ever like that around you, when you were alone. And that wasn’t going to change anytime soon, and it wasn’t fair of you to expect him to change for you either.

“Babe? Ya alright?”

Mammon was sitting up now too, and had wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing one leg on either side of you so that you were essentially sitting in his lap. He kissed the back of your neck, and gave you a moment to reply.

He knew what was coming though. You knew him better than anyone. And he was painfully aware of this glaring personality flaw of his that was getting in the way of your relationship ever going forward.

You would never ask him to change, that wasn’t the sort of person you were. But you also realized that there wasn’t a future for you and Mammon, a future of any kind, if you couldn’t live your life openly and had to try to hide, minimize, or even flat out deny your relationship a good deal of the time. Or worse, listen to him deny he even cared.

Mammon rested his forehead against the back of your shoulder. I guess that’s it, he thought to himself. He had true happiness within his sight, and then messed it up like he always messed up everything. What he wouldn’t give to be able to change this about himself. Or for him to be anyone else, really. Someone that wasn’t a total waste of space that could actually make you happy and give you everything you deserved.

There wasn’t anything else to say at this point, so Mammon planted one last kiss to the back of your head, breathing in your scent and trying to commit it to memory, before slipping out of bed and finally returning to his room.

————

Today had sucked. Really and truly sucked. The morning had started off with so much promise, but that was all over before breakfast had even begun.

Despite the fact that you and Mammon had finally made your feelings known to each other, both of you realized that being in an actual relationship would be impossible. You just wanted different things, and these weren’t things that he was able to give you.

You heaved a sigh and rested your forehead on your desk. Why couldn’t today be over already? Or maybe the floor could just swallow you up? That could work too, you thought.

The ear splitting screech of static jarred you out of your thoughts. Your hands flew to your ears as you sat bolt upright, looking around the room for the source of this hellish noise.

“Hey hey, is this thing on? It’s on right?”

“Yes it’s on you idiot! Everyone can hear you!”

Mammon…? And...Levi…? The screech of the speakers had finally stopped, and instead the sound of their bickering filled the halls. What on earth could these two possibly be doing? Why was Levi even at RAD in the first place? He was heading to his room to work on his online classes when you left this morning.

“Oi! Listen up! Consider this an official RAD announcement from The Great Mammon!”

You could hear Levi groan in the background as Mammon carried on with the theatrics. You still hadn’t figured out what they were up to, but you knew it wasn’t “Lucifer approved” that’s for sure.

“MC, I hope ya listen’ ‘cause I’m only goin’ ta say this once!”

All the eyes in your classroom were now focused on you, and you blushed furiously under the scrutiny. What the everloving hell did Mammon think he was doing? Didn’t you say all you needed to say this morning? What could he possibly want at this point?

“I love ya. Ya hear that? The Great Mammon loves ya.”

————

You weren’t even sure at what point you had stood up or left your classroom, but you were now tearing through the halls trying to find the source of the magically amplified speaker that filled every square inch of the RAD campus with the sounds of Mammon’s love confession.

It wasn’t like they had a traditional speaker system hooked up to a switchboard. If they did, you would have just made a beeline for that. But now you had to find where Mammon and Levi had decided to hide to keep Lucifer from finding them long enough for Mammon to complete his speech.

You didn’t have to search for long though, because you soon heard the sound of Lucifer’s voice echoing through the halls as well. He had found Mammon, and was putting an end to this. With Lucifer on the scene though, you knew that meant your odds of finding Mammon had shot up exponentially. He’d probably haul the pair of mischievous demons to the student council room, so you started running in that direction as fast as your legs could carry you.

As you rounded one final corner, you skidded to a halt, watching Lucifer dragging Mammon along, while Mammon tried to convince his brother to go easy on him.

“Mammon!” you yelled.

He and Lucifer both turned to face you, equally shocked to see you there at the end of the hall, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Soon you were running again, tears streaming down your face as you were overcome with emotion at finally having found him. As if you had done this hundreds of times before, Mammon opened his arms to you and you all but leapt into them, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him as tight as you possibly could.

“I love you,” you choked out in between ragged breaths and sobs, “so much.”

“I know. I love ya too. You don’t hafta worry. No more hidin’. Now everyone knows I belong to you and that you’re mine.”

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