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babysizedfics · 4 years

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hihi im back with another ask i send a lot of these now huh. anyway!! what would they all dress up as for halloween/how do they celebrate halloween when vee and ro are little compared to when they are big? do nana janus and chaotic cousin remus also join in? im super excited 'cause its halloween now and also i remembered my second ask from last night so m gonna send that now! 🐝

bee anon i know its been literal weeks since you sent this but i have been thinking about it loads and rlly hope that its worth the wait!!

i think this might be my longest headcanon post yet!

Halloween headcanon for the family

the timeline of labd took place in summer of this year so this halloween is their first one as a little family! patton was eager to suggest to the others that they make it a family halloween party where both boys are little and they can have some more childish fun!

virgil is nervous about it, he really loves halloween but he is easily frightened by horror and jumpscares and its a lot worse when hes regressed. and even though he trusts his family a ton hes worried they'll accidentally put on a scary movie or have spooky decorations that will scare baby him, so he's worried he will ruin the party by being a crybaby

however patton and roman are both so so so excited about having a child friendly halloween party and logan has been researching family halloween activities that are toddler friendly and vee is also a bit excited despite his anxiety so they all agree to it !!

costumes:

originally they all wanted to have a family group costume theme!! but roman and vee's interests are so different when they're little

whatever roman suggested was either too scary or it was from a show that was too old for baby vee

and any of pattons suggestions that baby vee liked roman complained of them being too babyish or simple

so instead they decide each little will go as a matching costume with one of the CGs! so everyone gets to match with someone and the littles arent upset

Logan and Vee go as rilakkuma (big brown bear) and korilakkuma (littol white bear) respectively

their costumes are basically just onesies they got from online, just standard onesie but with bear tail and bear ears on the hood and the tummy patch!

As a surprise though roman sews vee a pair of matching mittens for his costume! theyre fluffy on the inside and theyre white and have pink toe beans sewed on!! so they're like paws! and roman made them detachable so vee can have them attached to the onesie but can also wear the mittens without it

SIDE NOTE: this concept post is about how vee loves the mittens so much he starts wearing them a lot of the time when he's lil!

Roman and Patton go as Kuzco and Pacha

roman makes both of their costumes from scratch!! even fake jewellery for kuzco!! he's REALLY proud of himself and so is everyone else!!

quick link to the posts for what their pumpkins look like and the shenanigans that ensued when they carved them!

During the set-up:

during the day patton and roman bake sugar cookies! and roman does a great job decorating them like pumpkins and black cats! theyre really cute baby friendly designs

meanwhile logan and baby vee decorate the house! logan sticks up paper pumpkin faces and bats while vee sits on the floor in a little play area rattling his giraffe rattle and logan is like talking to him "where should i put this pumpkin sweetheart?" and vee just babbles cluelessly and sucks the ear of the giraffe and logan is like "what a marvellous idea" and hangs the pumpkin exactly where he planned

also they make tissue ghosts!

basically vee's job is to scrunch up a tissue into a ball! so logan gives him a tissue and shows him how to scrunch it and vee does a littol scrunch and giggles and logan takes it (scrunches it a bit more into a ball) and covers it in another tissue and rubber band! then he asks the baby if this ghost should be happy or sad (vee ALWAYS says happy) and logan draws happy little face on it!

when they have enough logan hangs them from the ceiling fan!! and he turns the fan on slow and the ghosts float around slowly and he goes 'vee look at that!'

and baby vee on the carpet is staring at them and then he whines and holds his arms up to mama - he wants to be picked up

lo was concerned that baby found the ghosts scary but!! vee giggles and reaches up to the ghosts and he bats them! like a little kitten! he loves it because its like a baby mobile!!

During the actual party:

lots of fun! logan cut out pumpkin shapes out of orange craft paper earlier and the boys get to draw faces on them!! and then they get blu tacked up on the walls!

and they nibble their cookies of course! very nummy well done roman and patton

but while ro is busy drawing and while vee is busy suckling his cookie and cuddling papa lo sneaks off to set up the main event...

trick or treat scavenger hunt:

there are bags of candy and little party favours (like little badges and bubbles and stuff) hidden around the house!

patton suddenly pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and gasps! then he announces that the boys got an invitation to go trick or treating around the house by some special guests! at this vee gets a bit nervous and buries his face in papa's shoulder but patton rocks him and roman is really excited!!

so patton hands the invitation to roman and its a riddle! roman has to figure out which room the riddle wants them to go to! roman is a very clever little boy, just ask his mom and dad, so he figures it out and leads them to the dining room! roman runs ahead and paatton carries baby vee on his hip

and in the dining room is logan - but he's not really supposed to be logan - he is still wearing his bear onesie but also now is wearing a big black blanket around his shoulders (its meant to be a cape) and has those really cheap uncomfortable plastic vampire fangs

'welcah to i cashel' he lisps

roman giggles because its very silly and he LOVES silly, especially mom being silly

but baby vee grips his papa tighter. he doesnt know why mama is talking weird or why his mouth looks different and pointy but it scares him and he starts whimpering

papa bounces him a little and whispers that its just mama being silly

logan hates to see ve scared of him so he tries to rectify it 'ish ohay bee ish okay wook ish mama!'

vee looks over because papa and his brother are giggling so it cant be that scary right?

but as logan tries to talk again the teeth fall straight out his mouth with a trail of drool and roman bursts out laughing and so does patton and so baby starts giggling too!! because its just mama!

anyway the game is to convince the vampire to let you have his candy. the vampire says he will only give them the treats if they can name all of the characters in peppa pig

and they do it!! vee immediately bounces and squeaks 'pepepepepa!' and then roman names mummy pig and daddy pig and george and then they get treats AND another riddle!

logan sprints out of the room to shove the next costume on and get to the next room

then roman takes them to the laundry room where the wolf man (logan with dog ears made of socks) will only give them bubbles and the next riddle if they both pet his head VERY softly!

and then they find a mummy in the kitchen and have to unwrap him! roman tears off the toilet paper from logans body and hands it to vee and vee scrunches it up like he did earlier and holds a little bit to his chest and decides its his now - the mummy gives them more candy and another riddle!

the hunt goes on until they find mama in the living room lying on the couch - and he's asleep! (he's not really)

theres a note on his chest that says that mama is under a spell!! and he can only be waken up by a kisses from all his family!! roman giggles and goes first and kisses logans cheek really loudly and sloppy and logan winces in his "sleep" at the wetnes on his cheek and roman thinks its funny

vee is really nervous that mama is under a spell :( so papa says he will show vee how to wake mama up. and patton leans down to kiss logan - logan's eyes open when he's just above him and leans up to meet him in a quick soft kiss on the lips

then its baby vee's turn and he wriggles in papa's arms so patton puts him down onto logan's lap on the couch and vee does his signature baby kiss - he leans forward, gently presses his forehead against his mamas and whispers 'mwah' behind his paci!

and then logan wakes up and says 'oh you saved me!!' and wraps a smiley baby vee in a very tight cuddle!

and when logan gets up he says he is SO grateful to his boys for saving him that he's gonna give them presents!!

For being so creative and clever by solving all the riddles and finding ways to trick the monsters into giving them treats, roman gets a rainbow etch a sketch!

and for being such a brave baby and for being so gentle with the monsters and with mama, little vee gets a squishmallow bat who will always protect him and give him cuddles!

the rest of the night is pretty much jsut roman being really excited and proud of how well he did in leadinf his family to victory and he draws all of the events that happened on his new etch a sketch!

and baby vee is just so relieved that mama is back that he doesnt leave mama's lap and snuggles with his new squishy friend al evening! he falls aslee pretty quickly because it was a busy day for just a little baby!!

the end :3

#long post #little/big concepts #asks #🐝 anon #agere virgil #little virgil #agedre roman #little roman #cg patton #cg logan #sanders sides agere #ts agere

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trashcanreddiefan · 4 years

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The 2nd Annual Losers' Club Christmakkah Celebration

Summary: The Losers gather for their second annual Christmakkah celebration, and there is a special gift under the tree with Richie’s name on it.

Word Count: 2800-ish

Warnings: None whatsoever. This is pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Post-Chapter 2. All of the Losers are alive in this fic, including Stan, because canon can suck it. 2nd in a (at least) 3-part series where the Losers take turns hosting Christmakkah. Part 1 here.

CROSS-POSTED AT AO3.

“I checked in for our flight to Atlanta,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen where his boyfriend, Eddie, was currently leaning down and peeking in on something that was baking in their oven. He wrapped his arms around Eddie. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

“I’m making a lasagna,” Eddie replied, straightening up and turning to greet Richie.

Richie planted a kiss on the top of his head before nuzzling his neck. “I meant you, babe.” He gently grazed Eddie’s pulse point with his teeth before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Taste even better.”

Eddie shivered, then leaned back with a smile. He tilted his head up for a proper kiss. “Hi.”

“Mmm. Hey yourself. How was your thesis presentation?”

“Good, really good. Dr. Cubillas seemed really happy with my research and asked me if I’d be interested in a TA position once I start the Master’s program next semester.”

Richie grinned. “Eds, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks, Rich. I know my savings won’t last forever, so I’m glad I was able to get this 2nd Bachelor’s so quickly and it’d be good if I could make some extra money working for the university while pursuing my Master’s. Plus then I wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in student loan debt after I graduate since my tuition would be covered.”

“Eds, I told you, if you need money I’ll give it to you, however much you need. I’d have zero problem with being your sugar daddy.”

Before Eddie could even protest, he added, “but I know how much your financial independence means to you, so just know the offer stands. I love you and I’m willing to support you in whatever way you need, be it financial, emotional, physical…” he trailed off as his hands slid down to palm Eddie’s ass, giving both cheeks a hearty squeeze.

Eddie shook his head fondly. “I love you too, Richie. And thank you.” They stood there in silence for a bit, just enjoying being in each other’s arms.

Richie could hardly believe that this was his life. Less than a year ago he had thought that he would be destined to be in lifelong (not counting the 27-year-long asshole clown-induced amnesia) unrequited love with his married, straight childhood best friend. But during the Losers’ first Christmakkah celebration, Eddie had not only announced to the Losers that he had divorced his wife and quit his job, but he had also told Richie privately that he was moving to Los Angeles to go to nursing school, and – the best news of all – that he was in love with Richie.

So now, a year later, Richie stood in his kitchen with the love of his life in his arms, getting ready to fly out to Stan’s house for their 2nd annual Losers’ Christmakkah Celebration.

Finally, Eddie reluctantly extracted himself from Richie’s embrace. “I need to get the lasagna out.”

“Ok, babe. I’m gonna go shower before dinner.” Richie gave Eddie one last kiss before heading to their bedroom.

He had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself when Eddie called out, “Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?” Richie replied, walking into their bedroom from the connecting bathroom.

Eddie stood by their bed. “The teddy bear you ordered for Olivia just came in.”

Olivia was Stan and Patty’s 3-month-old daughter and the first of a new generation of Losers. She had Stan’s curly hair and Patty’s nose, and already had her uncles and aunt wrapped around her finger.

“Ok great, thanks.” Richie walked over to Eddie and wrapped his arms around him.

“I already got it in a bag and put it in the suitcase with the rest of Liv’s gifts.”

“Ok so that should be it, right? I have Bill’s gift in my suitcase and you said you had Mike’s gift shipped directly to Stan’s, right?”

This year, instead of deciding not to exchange gifts (since last year they tried that and everyone wound up bringing presents regardless) the Losers had decided to do a “holiday gift exchange” where each Loser was randomly assigned one of the others’ names and bought that person a gift.

Richie had been assigned Bill, and in true Richie fashion had bought him a copy of Save the Cat Writes a Novel as a gag gift. (He had also bought him a first edition copy of Dracula as his actual gift; Richie was a bit of a prankster, but he wasn’t a complete asshole.)

Eddie glanced over at his suitcase. “Yeah, just so it’s less that we have to carry. You’re all packed then?”

Richie quirked an eyebrow and bit back a grin. “Well no, that’s what I have you for.”

“Wait a minute, you mean our flight leaves in less than 15 hours and you’re not packed yet?” Eddie’s voice went up in pitch with each word.

Richie couldn’t keep a straight face. “Eds, babe, I’m kidding, calm down. I packed a couple of days ago according to the list you gave me. Even folded my shirts and everything.”

“That was so not funny.” Eddie glowered at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Mmm, true,” Richie said sincerely, pulling Eddie even closer and tucking his head into Eddie’s neck. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive.”

He could feel the residual tension leave Eddie’s body. “Now, I take it that dinner’s ready, and not only that but we have an early flight to catch, so let’s eat and get ready for bed.”

____________________________________________________________

“…This is your captain speaking. I’d like to personally welcome you to Atlanta, Georgia.The time is 2:40 pm and the temperature is 61 degrees. On behalf of all of us, thank you for flying Delta.”

Richie pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Stan as soon as he and Eddie deplaned. Eds and I just landed. On our way as soon as we get our luggage.

Stan the Man: Ben & Bev and Mike are already here and I think Bill & Audra’s flight should be arriving in about an hour and a half.

Stan the Man: Eddie has our address. See you guys soon.

Richie put his phone away as he & Eddie made their way to baggage claim to collect their luggage, and soon they were on their way to Stan and Patty’s house.

Upon arriving they hauled their suitcases up Stan’s porch steps and rang the doorbell.

Stan answered the door. “Hey, guys. So glad you could make it.”

“Staniel! How’s it going?” Richie gave Stan a quick hug before turning to Patty, who was holding Olivia. “Patty, looking beautiful, as always. And how’s my favorite niece?” he cooed at Olivia.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Beverly said jokingly as she entered the room, rubbing her growing stomach. “As I’m sure do Bill and Audra.”

Richie gave her a peck on the cheek. “Well, considering both you and Audra are having boys, Liv will continue to be my favorite niece. But don’t worry, whoever gets named after me will get the title of favorite nephew.”

“Well too bad for you then, huh?” Bev laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows that Uncle Richie will spoil Little Benson and Wilson just as much as I spoil Olivia.”

“I’m sure you will,” Eddie said coming up from behind him and giving Beverly a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. “Bev, how have you been feeling?”

“Just fine,” Beverly answered. “Baby’s doing great.”

“So where’s that gorgeous husband of yours?” Richie asked.

Beverly grinned. “You know how he & Mike are when they get together. They’re looking at pictures from Mike’s trip to New Orleans last month. Appreciating the architecture.”

Richie snorted. “Nerds.”

“Let me show you guys to your room,” Stan said. “I know you both probably want to take a nap and a shower before the festivities tonight.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but a nap does sound wonderful,” Beverly added. “I’m still a bit jet-lagged.”

Stan led them to one of the spare bedrooms with its own private bathroom. “We’re planning on dinner at six, so you guys can come down at any time.”

“Oh, hey, what are we doing with the gifts?” Richie asked. “We have some for Olivia and I have my exchange gift.”

“I think we’re putting them by the Christmakkah tree,” Stan said. “Thanks for the menorah ornaments, by the way.”

Richie grinned. “I couldn’t pass them up.”

Eddie grabbed the suitcase with the gifts before Richie could get to it. “Here, Rich, why don’t you go ahead and rest and I’ll go put the gifts under the tree? I’ll be right back.”

Before Richie could answer Eddie was carefully wheeling the suitcase back downstairs.

Richie shook his head fondly. That’s my Eddie.

As much as Eddie had changed over the past 27 years, at his core he was still Eddie. He was still the same neurotic, foul-mouthed, caring little shit that Richie had fallen in love with all those years ago.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

The thought shouldn’t have surprised Richie – after all, he had had the same thought once before when they were teenagers – but now, now, he could; that is, if Eddie would have him. Does Eddie even want to get married again?

Although they were 100% committed to each other, marriage wasn’t exactly something they had talked about.

Still, Richie let his mind wander, thinking about going out and buying a ring, planning the perfect proposal (maybe the day Eddie got his Master’s degree? Richie wasn’t sure he could wait any longer than that), sliding the ring onto Eddie’s finger…

He was still thinking when Eddie came back into the room. “Okay, Olivia’s gifts are all set out, and we really should’ve gotten something for Ben & Bev and Bill & Audra’s kids, maybe each like a onesie or something.”

He walked over to Richie and lay down next to him on the bed, noticing the obviously sappy look on Richie’s face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Marry me, Richie thought, but instead said, “God, I love you.”

Eddie’s face instantly softened. “I love you too.”

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” Richie continued. “I know the past year hasn’t been easy but you’ve kicked ass and managed to get your nursing degree in 3 semesters–”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, only because all the anatomy and health classes I took the first time I was in college managed to transfer once I tested out of them, not to mention the fact that I took the max number of hours each semester and also took summer classes while you were on tour instead of going with you.”

“And not only that, but you received your degree with a 4.0 and was offered a TA position when you start the graduate program next semester.” Richie scooted closer and rolled his hips into Eddie’s. “Mmm, just thinking about playing nurse with my brilliant boyfriend is getting me all hot. Can’t wait to call you ‘Nurse Kaspbrak’ in bed.”

Eddie’s face contorted in an adorable combination of rage and laughter. “You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

Richie laughed. “No but really, I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds and I’m honored to be along for the ride.”

“Thank you, Rich. I’m glad you’re part of it too.” Eddie gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. “Now rest, we’ve got an exciting night ahead.”

__________________________________________________________

After a few hours’ nap Richie woke up to an empty bed but could hear the shower running.

He contemplated drifting back off to sleep when he heard the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. “Rich? You awake? It’s 5:15.”

Richie stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair, grabbing for his glasses as he sat up. “Yeah, babe, I’m up.”

Eddie gave him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna get dressed and head downstairs to see if Stan and Patty need help with anything while you’re in the shower. Meet you down there?”

Richie nodded, then slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed in the outfit Eddie had laid out on the bed for him – a soft lime green cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans – and headed down the stairs, where he rounded the corner to see all the Losers together.

He greeted Ben and Mike, then Bill and Audra, placing a gentle hand on Audra’s stomach when she asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kick.

He turned when he heard the click of a camera and looked up to see Eddie putting his phone away. “Blackmail photos?” he said jokingly. “Come on, Eds, all you have to do is ask in order to get me in more compromising positions.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gotta document you being cute since it happens so rarely.”

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for their gift exchange. Richie took a sleeping Olivia while Stan and Patty opened her gifts.

The Losers gifted her with various toys, clothes (“I’m thinking about starting a children’s clothing line,” Beverly explained when Patty pulled a beautiful hand-stitched dress out of a gift bag), and other necessities for a baby.

Richie looked down when Olivia stirred and blinked her eyes open. “Well hello, princess,” Richie cooed. “You decided to wake up for Uncle Richie?”

He grinned as Olivia smiled at him. “Aww look, Eds, she’s smiling at me! Yes, you think Uncle Richie is funny, don’t you?”

“She’d be the only one,” Stan said dryly as he took her in order to change her now that she was awake.

“Hey, I will have you know that all of my jokes are now Eddie-approved,” Richie replied.

Eddie shrugged. “What can I say, his stand-up has improved since firing his writer.”

Once Stan had come back and set Olivia in her bassinet, it was time for the adults to exchange gifts.

Once Bill, Audra, Ben, Bev, Mike, and Patty (who had Patty, Ben, Eddie, Audra, Stan, and Bev, respectively) all had gone, Stan stood. “I had Mike,” he announced, before handing Mike his gift.

Richie glanced over at Eddie, who was studying the hem of his sweater as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He opened his mouth to say something to Eddie when Stan interrupted. “Rich, you want to go next?”

Richie glanced to where 7 pairs of eyes were staring at him. “Uh, yeah, ok.”

He stood and handed Bill’s gift to him. “Merry Christmakkah, man.”

Bill laughed at the copy of Save the Cat. “I figure it’ll help you learn how to write an ending,” Richie joked.

“Thanks, Richie. This is so great.”

Richie sat back down on the sofa and Stan turned to Eddie. “Eddie, it’s your turn.”

Eddie went to the tree and grabbed a wrapped present. “I really did have it shipped here so you wouldn’t be nosing in the closets trying to find it.”

Richie ripped open the wrapping paper. “Eds, baby, this is fantastic! Thank you so much.” Eddie had bought him a new Bluetooth-enabled, all-in-one record player.

“There’s um, there’s something else, too,” Eddie said, heading back to the tree.

Richie watched as Stan and Eddie seemed to have a silent conversation before Eddie nodded, picking up a small, light blue gift bag. He silently handed it to Richie.

“Aww, thanks, babe.”

Richie untied the white ribbon that was keeping the bag shut, stuck his hand inside…

… And pulled out a note.

“Uh, Eds, baby, it’s customary to give the gag gift BEFORE giving the real gift,” he said jokingly.

“Just read it,” Eddie replied. He seemed nervous.

Richie unfolded the note. In Eddie’s neat handwriting were 5 words:

Richie, will you marry me?

What. He looked up and froze.

Eddie was down on one knee in front of him, a platinum ring in his hands.

Richie blinked. “Eds?”

Eddie took a deep breath. “Richie, exactly one year ago we took one of the biggest leaps of our lives together. Will you take another with me tonight and make me the happiest man alive?”

Richie’s eyes filled with tears. “Fuck yes,” he said, then pulled Eddie to him for a kiss.

Cheers and congratulations filled his ears.

Eddie slid the ring onto his finger. “I love you so much,” he whispered against Richie’s lips.

“I love you too.”

In the meantime, Stan and Patty had grabbed a bottle of champagne (sparkling grape juice for Bev and Audra) and had poured everyone a glass. “A toast!” Stan declared. “To Eddie and Richie: May you be friends to each other as only lovers can; and may you love each other as only best friends can. Mazel tov!”

“Mazel tov!” everyone else echoed as they raised their glasses.

Richie looked around at his friends �� no, his family – as they all took a sip of their drinks, then down at Eddie, who was looking up at him with the same love and admiration that Richie himself felt for Eddie.

“Merry Christmakkah, Rich,” Eddie said softly.

“Merry Christmakkah, Eds,” he whispered before leaning down and connecting his lips to his fiance’s.

#Richie x Eddie #Reddie #tcrf writes

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forasecondtherewedwon · 5 years

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What Can a Ravenclaw Learn from a Spider-Man? Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: T (a lil’ swearing) Word count: 5343

Spideychelle Week Day 3: Hogwarts/Harry Potter AU

Summary: Michelle doesn't exactly know what a "Spider-Man" is, but from the wild footage she's seen of him on her grandmother's television, she does know he's not your average Muggle. Keen to learn more, she extends an invitation for Spider-Man to be the first speaker in Hogwarts' new guest lecturer series (a program of her own invention).

Her questions will be snappy. Her attitude, professional. Her crush when Spider-Man shows up without the mask? Instantaneous.

Michelle wondered if Hermione Granger would’ve done it. Hermione was an idol of hers, even though she’d been a Gryffindor while at Hogwarts. Well, no one was perfect. Michelle admired Hermione when she made purposeful shortcuts that took her through the trophy room (an excuse to ritualistically pick out each of the academic plaques that bore Hermione’s name as she crossed the floor), when she saw her picture in the Prophet for another career achievement, and, of course, when she read one of Hermione’s fastidiously researched books.

Yes, the woman Michelle strove to one day call a peer was an impressive, maybe unparalleled, intellectual, but as far as she knew, the idea of guest lecturers at Hogwarts had never occurred to Hermione.

Everyone knew Ravenclaws asked a lot of questions―Michelle also made a lot of suggestions. This one had landed, after her Head of House presented it to the Headmaster and the Headmaster said something like, “Can’t see why not!” (The leadership style had reverted to a Dumbledore-esque whimsy, from the biographical sketches Michelle had read of the man, after the sterner yet decidedly more upfront governance of Headmaster McGonagall.)

Indeed, they’d liked the idea, but there was still a certain air of ‘upon your head be it’ about the whole thing, which meant that Michelle was doing extra work to take on primary organization of the project, and a good share of the responsibility for its success or failure. Perhaps it would’ve been more logical to make her first selection of guest lecturers from within the wizarding community… Maybe there was a little of Hermione Granger’s Gryffindor-ishness in Michelle after all.

She wouldn’t say the word out loud beforehand and, when he arrived, she wouldn’t say it to his face, but Michelle thought of her invitee as ‘The Risk.’ His behaviour would be unpredictable, from the very nature of his biology. It wasn’t because he was a Muggle (being half-blood herself, Michelle had spent a significant amount of her childhood in the Muggle world)―although, actually, she wasn’t quite sure that he was a Muggle. The Wizarding world was full of labels, distinctions, and classifications, including those that were out of date and even disgustingly prejudiced, but Muggles were less precise. There was a name for what he was, a sort of childishly worshipful term for this risky guest and others like him, and that name was ‘superhero.’

Michelle was keen to observe any ‘super’ qualities, in the interest of improved quantification and qualification of extraordinary and exceptional traits both evolved and endowed, to be catalogued and studied hereafter. Oh, she didn’t mean to treat The Risk as a test subject, but questions had to be asked. The pursuit of knowledge demanded it. While on summer holiday, she’d passed a week with her Muggle grandmother and had seen footage of him in action.

Not usually one to vegetate in front of a television, Michelle’s fixation on the screen had, of course, been quickly misunderstood by her grandmother, who’d implied in all sorts of embarrassing language that the real object of fascination for her sixteen-year-old granddaughter must be the man’s physique. Ridiculous. She was a scholar, for Merlin’s sake! It was the death-defying leap from a high building, followed by a mid-air catch using some kind of rope (he seemed to create it himself, almost from nowhere―she was very interested in the properties of that as well) that had her heart pounding like a galloping Hippogriff.

Of course, it hadn’t aided her argument when her grandmother had caught her watching another clip the following evening. For the record, Michelle had not sighed when ‘Spider-Man’ was shown from behind, she’d yawned. It was bloody summer and the days were longer and she’d been out in the sun and she was tired.

And it was nonsense to suppose that she’d devised the guest lecturer series solely for the purpose of meeting Spider-Man. Nonsense.

Michelle hadn’t been the one to get in contact, not directly. It turned out that the Headmaster and Spider-Man had a mutual wizard friend, so it was all much easier than she’d thought it would be to arrange things with this superhuman New Yorker with the spectacular arse, ahem, arsenal of abilities. Magical and Muggle cooperation did wonders to make the world smaller in the most useful and unexpected ways.

Apparently, this other wizard, Dr. Stephen Strange, had arranged a portal (portal? Was this in any way similar to either Apparition or Portkey?) to transport Spider-Man from New York to Hogsmeade. Security measures being as they always had been―if not a little tighter since the infamous Battle of Hogwarts, 21 years back―Michelle’s guest lecturer could not be deposited directly onto school grounds. Actually, this was only an assumption, and she hated those. Perhaps when the man was making his return journey, she might have an opportunity to speak to Dr. Strange and initiate an understanding of the workings of portals and how their magic interacted with such spells as guarded the school, specifically whether or not they were able to permeate the wards, if this disruption was temporary, if it would leave any lasting trace or adverse effects… She’d start a list.

The opportunity to interrogate (Michelle had been told she didn’t question, she interrogated, and she was perfectly fine with the upgrade) the wizard on Spider-Man’s coming had passed, as the guest had arrived that morning while she was grinding her teeth in Arithmancy, wishing she could’ve been down in the village instead. Filch had been sent to escort him (the Headmaster having adjusted the protective spells to allow Spider-Man’s passage onto the grounds), really a dreadful alternative―if it wasn’t too self-important of her to note. Now Michelle just had to collect him.

She flew down empty corridors and hiked up the hem of her robe to take stairs three at a time with her long legs. Students weren’t often seen running inside Hogwarts unless it was to reach a bad-tempered professor’s class on time, and this general rule could stand, given that Michelle wasn’t seen. She only slowed as she cut across the trophy room, paying her voiceless respects to the accomplishments of Hermione Granger. The version of her idol that Michelle carried around in her head was full of encouragement.

Composing herself, Michelle straightened her tie before she made the final turn towards the Headmaster’s office, where she was to find her lecturer. She would be professional, she coached herself. She would pace her questions so as not to confuse or overwhelm him. There would be time to find out everything she wanted to know (plenty of time, if they developed a rapport―as she hoped―and entered into an ongoing communication that extended beyond this visit), so it was essential that Michelle contain her giddiness. With a fortifying exhale, she rounded the corner.

There was someone waiting for her in front of the gargoyle that concealed the office’s entrance. It wasn’t Spider-Man. It wasn’t any kind of man.

“Hey,” said a boy about her age. He waved the hand not clutching the strap of a battered rucksack.

Michelle approached him with all the composure of a seventh-year and a Ravenclaw (she was both). It was murder not to immediately ask questions.

“I’m Peter Parker,” he offered, along with his hand to shake, when she halted in front of him.

He had round eyes the colour of the new peat they used during transplantings in the greenhouse. Herbology was one of Michelle’s favourite classes―filling her notebook with plant sketches, hearing the soft tunneling of her classmates’ gloved hands in the dirt, observing change and growth each time she entered the greenhouse. Maybe that was the reason for the comfortable feeling that settled into her as she stared back at him, into those earthy eyes.

“Michelle Jones. MJ,” she said. She couldn’t say where the nickname had come from; she’d never asked anyone to call her that before.

They shook hands and it was unlike any handshake―any touch, for that matter―Michelle had ever experienced. Peter didn’t do the regular reflexive squeeze, no, it was more like he learned her hand and then adapted for optimal contact. Their palms moulded together like the structural soundness of their fit was establishing a critical foundation. His fingers wrapped around her hand with an easy security that assured Michelle they would neither hurt her nor struggle to hang on and pull her to safety should the entire castle collapse around them at that very moment. The motion of his thumb interlocking with hers nearly raised goosebumps; its slide across her skin was that tender yet assertive. This hand was a sophisticated instrument and she knew the other identity of the boy it belonged to before he confirmed it for her.

“Or, uh, Spider-Man,” he added sheepishly. “You can call me that too.”

Michelle was still coming to terms with the handshake.

“You’re not what I was expecting,” she explained after a delay in releasing his hand. That hold. She could feel it still, along with the hundred new questions it had seemed to imprint directly into her skin.

“Yeah, I was gonna wear the suit ‘cause, you know, back home nobody knows that I’m him and he’s me. Everywhere, really,” the boy rambled. “Even some people in space know Spider-Man now. But Dr. Strange said this place―sorry, Hogwarts―is, like, crazy secure―Mr. Stark is gonna freak when I tell him, he loves that stuff―so it shouldn’t really be a problem to come as, well, myself.”

Michelle was smiling broadly by the time Peter paused to take a breath. He was incapable of shutting up. He was perfect. Perfect to question, obviously. She wouldn’t have to pace herself too much after all.

“It’s not a problem, right?” he checked, expression suddenly nervous. Peter’s face was like his hands, performing an emotion or action completely. Except Michelle wasn’t about to reach out and hold his face just to feel the little dents above his eyebrows when they lifted.

“It’s not a problem,” she assured him, though that was really the Headmaster’s role.

“Ok, great, I was just kinda worried because you guys seem really into uniforms here. Makes me feel underdressed, but maybe that’s just my aunt May talking.”

As Peter shrugged, Michelle glanced rapidly down the length of his body, assessing his outfit. A t-shirt under a button-up shirt, jeans, and trainers.

“You look good to me,” she said.

Their eyes met and Peter’s mouth opened, but that was as far as he got in terms of a response for several long seconds.

“Uh, what’s the blue for?” he asked, pointing at the stripes of her tie.

“Ravenclaw. It’s my House.”

Peter squinted and Michelle sensed that he was trying to recall a piece of information. The expression was intimately familiar to her.

“I got some of the basics,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the Headmaster’s office. “Ravenclaw’s the one for really smart people, right? More or less?”

Michelle smiled at him again. She didn’t need the wisdom of her House’s founder to know that she and Peter Parker were going to get along.

\\\

Having Spider-Man in her charge―and he was Spider-Man now, appearing in uniform as they moved about the school and grounds―wasn’t supposed to mean getting an entire day off from classes, but that was how things had turned out.

After an endearingly self-deprecating introduction to Michelle’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Spider-Man had demonstrated battle tactics, adaptability, how to work with surroundings, and other skills that were useful whether or not one carried a wand. There had been a positive epidemic of hand-cramping amongst her fellow Ravenclaws, everyone struggling to record Spider-Man’s nonchalantly delivered details of violent encounters of varying success. The Gryffindors composing the other half of the attendance had effectively lost their minds with excitement as they watched Spider-Man shoot webbing from his wrists and climb the walls; a few Lions reluctantly left for the hospital wing after failing to execute one of the flips their guest did with such ease.

As Michelle exited the classroom with Peter at the end of the period, they were met with a small swarm of first-year emissaries, dispatched by professors to whom tales of Spider-Man’s abilities had already spread. Everyone wanted a visit from the guest lecturer. Normally, Michelle would’ve mentally hexed those bloody loud-mouthed Gryffindors for making her miss class to continue escorting Peter, but she was enjoying his company. She was even beginning to admit to herself that the boy’s carefree smile contributed as much to her enjoyment as his thorough answers to each of her questions.

Spider-Man was given the floor in a fifth-year Potions class, where the eyes of young Slytherins practically gleamed as they attempted to replicate Peter’s proprietary web fluid using the offerings of the ingredients cupboard. He won over a crowd of second-year Hufflepuffs in Care of Magical Creatures as he explained how his powers had originated from the bite of a radioactive spider; the little Badgers were very sweet, very sympathetic.

In fact, there hadn’t been a single negative reaction to Michelle’s lecturer, apart from a few envious looks that she’d observed, studying each audience as Peter addressed them. His reputation as an enthusiastic and engaging speaker meant more invitations to lecture than they were able to commit to that day. It would have to continue tomorrow. Apparently, a discussion on Muggle-superhero relations would fit well into the fourth-year Muggle Studies curriculum, so that class was going to be their first engagement the following day.

Michelle was quizzed throughout dinner, Ravenclaws skidding up to her along the benches at their House’s table in the Great Hall like Muggle baseball players sliding to home plate. Most nights, she knew herself to be a worthy conversational companion―the kind of thinker who could only stew in her own thoughts and theories for so long before needing someone to bandy ideas about with. Tonight, she hardly noticed the curious crowd around her. What she did notice was Peter (sans costume) sitting next to Professor Longbottom. Her Housemates might’ve perceived her distraction (as well as its focus) if they weren’t largely the sort to pay more attention to what was going on in their heads than in front of their eyes.

Peter and Professor Longbottom broke into giddy laughter and Michelle heard herself sigh (audibly!), which roused her from her mealtime fixation. With a long drink of water, she swiveled in her seat to face a little blond Scamander.

“Sorry,” she offered, spying the swing of the child’s bare feet beneath the table, “what did you ask?”

After dinner, Michelle felt as flighty as the symbol of her House, practically bobbing her head like a bird as she contended with the departing hoard of students in an effort to spot her Peter. Her lecturer. Peter. Suffering Helena, if the Herbology professor had gotten started on an impromptu plant discourse, Michelle might not see Peter again for the rest of his stay! (She adored Professor Longbottom, truly, but she felt the strain of separation from her guest as the minutes passed. It must simply have been a kind of withdrawal from newly introduced stimuli; she wasn’t going to concentrate on the reasoning at the moment.)

“Oh man,” said a voice from behind her. “I’ve done the big group dinner thing before, but this was insane. Have you ever had shawarma?”

Michelle spun around and nearly sagged in relief.

“No,” she told him with a smile and listened as he described it to her.

Peter barely looked up from the hands he was gesturing with, but he negotiated their way out of the Hall more smoothly than she’d ever been able to through so many people, even on her brightest, most bushytailed mornings.

“Whoa, wait a sec,” Peter requested as the staircase they’d mounted lurched into motion. “I’m lost.”

“I thought you were from New York, one of the busiest cities in the world,” Michelle teased, refraining from citing statistics about population, area, and traffic congestion. “Can’t tell your way around one building?”

“Hey, where I’m from, the streets don’t change! East 54th doesn’t suddenly come out on Orchard Street.” He glanced at her with playfully narrowed eyes. “And I doubt you had this place all figured out your first day here.”

She only smiled, unwilling to verbally own up to her eleven-year-old self’s directional failings. Peter leaned back against the bannister and shook his head at her.

“I know that look’s supposed to come off clever and mysterious, but if you think I’m gonna buy it… you’re right.”

He laughed at himself and Michelle joined in as their staircase jerked to a stop.

“Someone told you where you’ll be sleeping for the duration of your visit?” she checked, not moving yet.

Steps echoed faintly, several floors above, as other students made their way to common rooms or began Prefect patrol.

“Yeah, they said I’d be in the Ravenclaw dorms with you. N-not with you,” Peter fumbled, cheeks turning slightly pink. “Near you. Since you’re my… guide?”

“Yes.”

“Friend?”

She smiled. They had effectively spent the entire day together. It was an impressive thing that she could say she’d spent a day with Spider-Man, though what secretly thrilled her was that she’d spent a day with Peter Parker.

“Sure. And that’s right. A room’s been made up for you.”

“When you say ‘made up,’ you mean…”

“Created. Formed by magic. An extension of the existing dormitory.”

“Ohmygodthat’ssocool,” he breathed all at once.

Michelle stared too long at the wonder on his face, then startled herself out of it, passing him on the steps to reach the landing first.

“Let’s go,” she suggested, not looking at Peter. “I’ll show you how to get to Ravenclaw Tower from here.”

“That’s… that’s really nice of you,” he said, bounding up the steps and touching her arm before she could keep walking. “But if we go there right now, there’s probably going to be a bunch of people waiting up to ask me questions, right?”

“That’s a given. You fascinate… us.” That last word had been difficult to force out, wanting to manifest as something a bit more personal.

Peter huffed a laugh to himself, glancing at his shoes.

“I’m still kind of waiting for everybody to realize I’m not really that interesting.”

“What are you talking about?” Michelle tipped her head in confusion. “You’re incredible! What you can do―”

“―Isn’t anything that anybody here couldn’t do if they tried,” he said with a sad smile that encouraged her to agree (she wouldn’t). “Somebody made me a room out of thin air!”

“No. You’re here because―”

“I get it. I know people know about the Avengers, Spider-Man… I’m not ungrateful! The opposite! Being here is one of the coolest things that’s ever happened to me, I’m just not sure, now that they picked me, that I live up to the, uh, hype.”

Michelle marched ahead, frustrated and mixed-up and searching her mind for solutions. She rounded on Peter abruptly, not ten paces later.

“I picked you,” she said, meeting his wide eyes.

“What?”

“I picked you. I saw you on television. I watched everything I could find. I developed and implemented the guest lecturer program so that I could get you here, so that I could…” Her mouth had completely run away with her, which never happened unless what she had to say was broken up by frequent question marks while her arm grew weary from being held aloft in class. “So that we could hear you speak and have the opportunity to learn. Now, you don’t know me well, but you should bloody well know I wouldn’t waste my time when it comes to acquiring knowledge.”

She was breathing hard, a fool.

“I care a lot about school too,” he said quietly. Her eyes darted to his. “Except what you’ve done makes me look so lazy. I would never have thought of anything like this.”

“Yes, well, I’ve been watching you all day and I think you’d probably have been sorted Gryffindor.”

“Will that be held against me?” Peter smiled.

“I’m certainly trying my best not to.”

They laughed. Michelle felt deeply thankful that he’d chosen to attribute the passion of her speech to her enthusiasm for knowledge. It had been atypically brash of her to lay things (feelings) on the line like that.

“I can show you something, if you’d like. Use up a little time in the hopes of fewer of my Housemates in the common room when we get there.”

“That sounds great,” he said with an easy smile, already following Michelle as she chose a route that didn’t lead to the dormitory. “Are we allowed to be wandering around though?”

“Wandering,” she scoffed, tossing Peter a wry look over her shoulder. “Please. I don’t wander, and I don’t get caught.”

Michelle led him higher and higher, sometimes glancing back because his footsteps were so silent that she thought she may have left him behind. He was always there, giving her a questioning look, not expecting her to doubt that he was right on her heels, moving like they were one person, one unit, in the darkness.

The Astronomy Tower―her goal―was mythic, even in a place as storied as Hogwarts. It had borne witness to the Dark Mark and the death of Albus Dumbledore, but as Astronomy class continued to be held there (it was still the highest tower and therefore offered the best vantage for telescopes), the spot’s solemnity had mellowed with time. Most rumours swapped about the Tower these days involved strange and fantastic things past students had glimpsed in the night sky. Michelle’s favourite modern legend was about Harry Potter himself, and how he’d smuggled an illegal dragon to freedom.

Not one of those tales had been her inspiration for bringing Peter here.

He was smiling, slipping out of Michelle’s shadow to stride to the railing at her side and peer into the night beyond. She was watching him more than it as she wove her hair into a quick braid; it was windy here, a little exposed.

“Whoa,” Peter breathed as he scanned the view.

Michelle grinned in satisfaction. It gave her great pleasure to teach someone something new, but the opportunity to show someone something new was exceedingly rare. Every nook she found, every passage, every thrilling belvedere had been discovered first by a Gryffindor. That was inevitable, with their questing natures. She didn’t enjoy those places any less, but she’d never felt ownership (even temporary) of them as a result. Standing here with Peter, in contrast, was an act of ushering him into her world and offering to share it, all at once.

“I know you saw some of the grounds when you came up to the castle, and when we dropped in on the Care of Magical Creatures class, but…”

“Not like this.”

“Not like this,” Michelle agreed.

She gave him another minute to just look, remembering what he’d told her classmates today about his enhanced senses and wondering how far Peter could see as the sky darkened from the hazy blue-grey of evening.

“I thought it might… remind you of New York. In a way,” she offered awkwardly.

Peter leaned far over the edge, making her extremely anxious.

“I see what you mean. We’re really high up.”

“Terrific. Why don’t you step back a little?” Michelle replied, tense. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but she wasn’t about to put herself in danger unnecessarily either.

He turned with a chuckle that threw his shoulders forward; again, Peter’s whole body participated in enacting an emotion. It caught her off guard, how his delight riled giddiness in her.

“Even if I fell, I’d catch myself,” he assured her, though he did move in her direction towards the middle of the Tower. “You know that, you’ve seen me on TV!”

“I saw Spider-Man on TV,” she corrected with a grin.

“And this is why I can leave knowing I didn’t blow my cover!” Peter joked. “Everybody’s already forgotten me and him are the same guy!”

Michelle rolled her eyes and tentatively crossed to the railing, propping her elbows there. He joined her. He was close enough that her heart sent up an alarm, doing a secret knock on her ribcage.

“I’m not so sure,” she said. “You did come to dinner as yourself in front of the entire population of Hogwarts.”

“Maybe,” Peter shrugged, “but you were the only one watching.”

They glanced sideways at each other at the same moment and Michelle felt her cheeks go red. She spent half a second trying to internally convince herself it was the wind’s nip. No good.

“Uh, have you ever been? To New York?”

Peter blurted it all out, ruffling his hair with a nervous hand. Why was he nervous? Was it her making him nervous? He’d already made it clear that it couldn’t be their distance from the ground.

“I haven’t,” she looked at him quickly, throwing out a fleeting closed-lipped smile.

“You should go sometime. If you’re not busy doing something amazing here.”

“It would definitely be a change of scenery.” Michelle swept her hand at the landscape before them, the sky riddled with stars.

“For sure. I mean, you gotta see the Empire State Building. Central Park, Radio City―”

“The Avengers?”

He laughed.

“Come on,” she insisted. “I’m sure superheroes are a tourist attraction. Your city should be offering each of you a royalty.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t laugh,” Peter said, suddenly and unusually (for what she’d seen of him) serious. His body twisted towards her, though he kept staring at the far off treeline. “You could definitely come over and meet the Avengers. I think you and Dr. Strange would have a lot to discuss. And Mr. Stark? Boy, he loves getting to talk about his work―sometimes it’s more like bragging―so I bet you could ask as many questions as you wanted.”

“I was actually thinking about you.”

Now he looked at her, surprised.

“Going to see you,” Michelle went on, amazed at herself. “Just you.”

“But you haven’t even met…” Peter was obviously baffled. “When you see what they can―”

“You really think I didn’t see the others on television?” she asked, sarcasm softened from its regular strength. “I’m sorry to inform you, but there isn’t an all-Spider-Man channel. At least, not that I know of.”

“You saw Thor? And Falcon, with the wings? Wan― I mean, the Scarlet Witch? Iron Man?”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Peter.” It felt good, saying his name. “You’re my favourite Avenger.”

“Then you’re my favourite Ravenclaw,” he responded firmly, gripping the rail. She couldn’t laugh―he was too earnest. “My favourite witch,” Peter professed. “Including Wanda. Shit, forget I said her name.”

Michelle had to laugh that time, but he frowned in return.

“You don’t know enough witches to say that,” she said, straightening up. “I haven’t even told you about Hermione Granger.”

“Well, you don’t know enough Avengers,” he cut in, bungling her chance to educate him.

“I don’t need to,” Michelle shot back, taking a step towards him whilst properly shocked to hear herself arguing against acquiring knowledge.

“Neither do I!”

Peter kissed her before she could point out the weakness of his regressing argument. The wind whipped up and snatched at her braid, but Peter grasped it and trapped it between his palm and her neck, his thumb resting lightly on her throat.

She hadn’t felt like this since her wand had chosen her at Ollivander’s. There was a satisfaction to scoring high on exams or refining a transfiguration, but those were a certain type of accomplishment. In fact, almost all of her accomplishments were that same type. Michelle reflected, as she kissed him back, that she might’ve been due for a broadening of horizons.

There was nothing precise about kissing Peter and letting him fold her body into his arms (she half-wished he could fold and fold and fold her, then stow her in his pocket so she could travel to New York against the thump of his heart), but it had as fair a claim to the title of ‘perfection’ as any other action she had performed.

He helped considerably, of course. Just another thing Peter did with a care and adeptness that truly made Michelle marvel. It felt as though he were holding her exactly right―one hand between her shoulder blades, the other still pinning her braid. And his lips were equally thorough. The heat of her face, when she stepped away with a smile, held off the increasing coolness of the air.

Peter exhaled with humorous over-exaggeration.

“Be nice if all my fights ended like that,” he said, starry-eyed even without the reflection on the sky shining in his brown irises when he looked at her.

“Do they not? I assumed that was how you managed to apprehend so many criminals, drawing them out with that Siren call.”

They laughed, but it faded as they both realized Peter was playing with the end of her braid. Cautiously, Michelle shifted closer until they could rest the sides of their heads together, looking out. His arm was secure around her back.

“We weren’t really fighting,” she felt the need to clarify after a long, still moment.

“Debating?”

“Not quite. You’d have known if we were debating. I never would’ve let you cut me off.”

Peter chuckled.

“That’s one more thing I need to see while I’m here then.”

“Well, we can try to find room for it tomorrow,” Michelle offered, “in between your showing off.”

“I haven’t been showing off!”

She turned her head and gave him a dubious stare when Peter drew back.

“Ok, maybe a little,” he conceded, “but that’s why you asked me to come!”

Michelle saw fit to practice her technique of not responding when he was correct.

“If I’m going to be accused of showing off, then I’m going to have to actually do it so you can see the difference. For your records.”

This boy was full of shit. She grinned at him.

“And what is it you’ll be doing, Spider-Man?”

Peter glanced down the side of the Tower again, then slowly looked over at her. His face was all mischief.

“You’re not climbing the Astronomy Tower.”

“I’ll wait ‘til tomorrow if it makes you feel better. Do it in daylight.”

“There are plenty of towers at Hogwarts, why not begin with a shorter one?”

“MJ, I can handle it. We’ll start at the bottom,” Peter pointed, hand sliding to her waist, “and go up. Easier to set you down if you freak out.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Michelle hedged. “This is not a ‘we’ activity.”

“Sure it is. Don’t worry, I’ll get a good grip on you.”

She laughed anxiously.

“Absolutely not. You will be the main attraction and I will stand safely in the background, as we’ve done since you arrived.”

“Aw, you’re more of a risk-taker than that, I know you are!”

“You won’t goad me into this,” Michelle warned him, though it wasn’t lost on her that she’d been thinking of him as the risk she’d taken all along, “I’m a Ravenclaw.”

“And I’m an Avenger,” Peter declared. “In the words of a guy I know back home, I can do this all day.”

“It’s night.”

“That’s a cheap out, MJ.”

She found him charming and rolled her eyes, leaning into his side as he welcomed her with a friendly expression.

“Just an observation.”

“Are we debating yet?” Peter wondered.

“Don’t change the subject.”

They stood there until they began to yawn, at which point they sat instead (Michelle pulled her wand from her pocket and cast a warming charm). She guided Peter’s gaze through the visible constellations while he enacted his flawless hand-holding magic. The night was so good that she never thought to speculate on whether Hermione Granger had ever had a night like this. Michelle didn’t guess and she didn’t compare. She’d brought Spider-Man to Hogwarts, and she’d snogged him.

She was her own idol.

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seven-oomen · 4 years

Text

I’m sorry you’re still feeling exhausted. I hope work wasn’t too terrible today, and that the weekend lets you rest up a bit (if you get normal weekends. working in retail I try not to assume.) Also, this is likely to just be a short(-ish) collection of unconnected musings, but I felt like sharing them anyway, and really you should be used to that from me at this point. XD So, first off that tree painting is GORGEOUS. I mean, I tend to be kinda partial to that whole tree silhouette type aesthetic, so I’m probably slightly biased. But still. (And the background shading… <3 ) Also, ngl, the backlit keyboard keeps making me think of that video of Henry Cavill assembling his new computer that’s making the rounds. That is not meant as a complaint of any sort, mind you, merely an observation.

Speaking of hot scruffy dudes who are actually massive dorks, did you SEE Ian’s most recent Insta pic?! (the non-cowboy hat one) Omg, I don’t know why he keeps complaining about how it’s starting to look like TW Season One hair like it’s some sort of bad thing. (The longer the hair, the better the grip you can get. […uh…wait, what?… ’>.> ]) That pic just screams OUAT sequel to me. Out here looking all shaggy and windblown and peaceful and content. Proud Alpha Dad Peter spending quality time with his family/pack. How very dare he spring this on an unsuspecting public with no warning? I was not prepared. (Also, Sinqua and Holland commenting on it just ups the adorable factor that much more.)

Also, was looking at a few sites lately in consideration of ordering a few more masks for work, found this print on one of them and almost laughed myself absolutely stupid. I don’t know why it was just so funny to me, but I hope it cheers you as much as it did me. Btw, it’s available on an impressive variety of items, including two types of notebooks, t-shirts, mugs, blankets, pillows, beach towels, shower curtains, rugs, bath mats, several styles of bags, phone cases, and assorted types of wall art (sadly not on a mask, however. I was deeply disappointed.) I can see any number of items ending up in the Haleargentski household, bought by assorted non-wolf members for assorted wolf members, because they are a family of assholes. (I feel like the first gift was a travel mug to Peter from his darling husbands, then a t-shirt [on black ofc] from Peter to Derek, and then it just all snowballed from there.)

Today’s literally-just-appeared-out-of-nowhere-wtf-brain thought is (much like the French maid thing) definitely of the nsfw variety, so consider yourself duly warned if you have a shift today. Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun? There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too. Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time." And I was just like "not sure what this has to do with this video of how to make a ukelele out of colored pencils, but continue." But like, no really. Peter being knotted in one of them while the other uses beads or a (vibrating) plug on him? (Which one is the asshole who momentarily turns the vibration up high enough that they BOTH can feel it?) Or using those, or some kind of prostate massager, while he’s tied up and watching them with each other? Bonus points in that situation for anything remote controlled. See just how good his control really is. Equal opportunity toy usage is what I’m saying, basically.

Also had a thought inspired by a pregnant friend and her fiance raving about a local pizza place’s monthly special, which is a pickle pizza (no really). I may or may not have asked her if she had it with ice cream (I totally did, but apparently she’s past that point.) So I was wondering about any weird or specific cravings the boys have while pregnant. I remember Chris having a thing about chocolate pudding in the flashbacks. Was it only a certain type of pudding, or would any kind do? Were there any others he had? Did he have the same ones with Ben or different? What about Noah? What sort of cravings did he get, if any? And did they vary between sets of twins? Did anybody go the aforementioned pickles and ice cream route? Anybody dipping fries in Nutella? Onion straws in peanut butter? Doritos in cottage cheese? Anybody eat salsa straight out of the jar? Did anybody get any sudden absolute need for a specific fast food at two in the morning? Or suddenly want a type of snack food only carried at one truck stop halfway past the next town? Anybody spend several days eating nothing but veggie trays, including ones they normally can’t stand? Anybody develop a temporary aversion to certain things, like coffee (feels like it would be a terrible thing for either of them)? Did Peter cater to their every whim in any and all of these situations? (I already know that answer.) Did either one ever get demanding about it, or did they go the more passively-wistful-won’t-stop-mentioning-it route? Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability? (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Uh…I think that was the last of the random swirling questions/musings/headcanons for now… I hope you feel a bit better today, and that the time off (I think you mentioned some time off?) is helpful. Enjoy your time with your friend (that was this weekend, right?). If you’ve got ideas for writing stuff, but are having trouble getting them down, would making quick notes/reminders, or voice recordings, for later help? Like, so you don’t worry about losing them, but aren’t forcing yourself to do something you don’t feel up for at the time? Either way, congrats on keeping up with the journaling (and the pretty, pretty art), and I hope tracking everything proves helpful. And remember, other people’s bullshit issues and hang-ups are in no way your fault (no matter what they try to tell you), and you deserve all the good things. Take care! *Hugs to both of you!*

Yeah, honestly I think I hit that point in my life again where my battery is drained and I can’t restart it. Which is how I got my burn out at first and working towards another one. Heh but I also don’t want to give up now and just keep working for a little longer because my contract expires at the end of September and yeah..

Stress.

Aww gosh thank you, yeah I really like how that one turned out! It was better than expected.

Btw if you’re into Zombie apocalypse stories (I am) you should definitely check out The girl with all the gifts. It’s so brutal but also interesting, I definitely enjoyed that. (And it was research for my own book)

Lol I love this keyboard and this laptop, really, it was the most expensive thing I ever bought but it’s so worth it. Still runs super smooth after 2 years. I don’t think I’ve seen that video of Henry though.

And omg yes I did and it’s the best thing. he looks so SOFT omg. I def got OUAT S2 vibes from that. And OUAT vibes. Also that pic of him with Colton, omg. Those were the best!

THAT PRINT!!!! I nearly snorted coffee out of my nose this morning but managed to swallow it down just in time. My work computer would have suffered caffeine damage otherwise XD.

But yeah, that becomes a running gag for sure!

Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun? There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too. Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."

*cheff’s kiss*

Yes.

Oh the images are so good. Remind me to write them out in detail tomorrow after the zoo trip.

Also parking the pregnancy cravings to answer tomorrow since it’s past midnight and I should catch some sleep before I need to be up again. But I will definitely type that HC out.

Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability? (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Ohhh Debbie’s toast. Because yes, Noah’s magic is that much stronger when it’s fueled by pregnancy hormones and Chris turns into a very protective hormonal fighting machine. Low center of gravity has advantages when you’re in a squabble with the Karens.

And yeah, I have four days off right now. Which means I don’t have to work until Thursday again. Which is awesome!

But yeah work wasn’t too bad, I had to do one bad news conversation which fucking sucked since there was nothing I could do and nobody I could get a hold off to fix the problem for that customer and it was just a waiting game. I hate those conversations. I honestly do.

Most of it was quiet though and I got to leave an hour earlier due to the quiet day. So that was good. And I watched a movie while being paid (The girl with all the gifts) so that was pretty fun too XD

I actually voice record a lot already. I find it really helps with clearing my mind and I write a lot of stuff down. But I appreciate the tip!

Lots of cuddles from me and Mo and I hope your day went by well. <3

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #my convos with anon #submission

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winchest09 · 5 years

Text

Shatter Me - Chapter One

Title: Shatter Me

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3710

Summary: The Winchesters were your world. After joining their hunter ranks, you quickly became attached to the brothers. After a successful hunt, you insist on going out celebrating with the boys – only for a loose end to catch up with you. You’re trapped in a world without hunger, thirst and the Winchesters. With the brothers beside themselves, they make preparations to say goodbye until Dean starts to connect to you through his dreams. Little do they know that you’re much closer than they think…

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of alcohol, mentions of smut, language, bit o fluff, slow burn, angst

A/N: Ok guys, here it is - Chapter One of my first ever SPN fanfiction! I’ve had to split this chapter into two as it was around 9,000 words (oops) If you are reading this, thank you so much for giving me a moment of your time! It is a bit of a slow burn (ish) but I hope you will enjoy it!

Also any mistakes are my own, please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :)

Shatter Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter One

With a slam of the Impalas trunk, it was the sure satisfying sound that this hunt was over. You looked to the side of you to see Dean with a smug smile on his face. It wasn’t a simple case by any means, but it was a case with witches which always provided a bit of a challenge. Dean looked at you and winked to which you rolled your eyes. You had been with the Winchesters for just over a year, coming together when you were both hunting a pack of werewolves and you managed to save the brothers from an ambush.

You only agreed to join them on a couple of more hunts as you enjoyed flying solo, but the boys had their convincing ways. Sam was impressed with your researching expertise and your way around a laptop and Dean, well Dean was impressed with how you carried yourself. No fuss, no drama, just a lady who knows her way around weaponry and monster lore. When the day came where you were going to part ways, the boys drew up and pretty convincing list of why you should stay with them. So here you are, a year later and about to hop in the back of Dean’s Impala to head home with the brothers who you considered family.

You walked to the drivers’ side of the car, your hand resting on the sleek silver passenger door handle as you looked towards the town. Sure, you could hop into the car and do the twelve hour journey back to the bunker but you were feeling the buzz, the adrenaline from the hunt. You didn’t want to waste it sitting in the back seat, annoying Dean as he was driving and asking Sammy a thousand questions to test his lore knowledge. No, you wanted to drink, dance, sing terrible karaoke and maybe even get laid.

Dean noticed your hesitance as he opened the driver’s door “You alright sweetheart?” He questioned, the term of endearment towards you making you smile.

“I’m fine De, but…” You hesitated and looked past him again, towards the town “I’m just not ready to go home yet. Let’s go to a bar, celebrate, we did good today” You suggested, earning a slight chuckle from Dean. He looked over towards Sam who was leaning against the passenger door frame, looking your way.

“What you reckon Sammy? Whisky, Women and a fine motel room?” Dean grinned, swinging his car keys around his finger.

Sam smiled and nodded “Sure, why not, we could use a break”

You jumped on the spot excitedly before getting into the back of the impala, it had been a while since your last bar crawl. Sure, you weren’t planning on getting absolutely wasted but you wanted to let your hair down and have some fun. You heard the roar of the impala and leaned back into your seat, fingers playing with your hair. Tonight would be a good night.

You caught Dean’s eye in the rear view mirror and saw the gentle creases of his eyes as he smiled warmly at you. Your stomach flipped. In secret, you loved those little glances he gave you, the way his voice sounded when he called you sweetheart, the way he had grown to become protective over you on hunts. You always carried yourself as this strong, independent, knowledgeable woman but the hunter life was lonely and Dean…well Dean just got you. He was the one man that you didn’t have to be strong around but, you wouldn’t let him know that, his head was big enough without you inflating his ego even more.

Yes, you liked Dean Winchester but you know that he would never like you back. You were his best friend, his little sister and you had become comfortable with the fact you were friend zoned a long time ago. That didn’t mean that you don’t still crave his attention, the little touches and in jokes you had between you. You knew tonight you were going to make just that little extra effort just to earn a double glance, it was like a drug you craved, something that kept you going day to day. Then when it comes to the evening and inevitably, you watch Dean go home with some busty toned woman, you’d strap on your armour and find yourself a distraction from your Dean addiction. A mediocre night with a random stranger who would give you an alright orgasm and then leave to go about his business.

You scoffed under your breath at the thought, stretching a little in the backseat as the impala pulled up in the motel parking lot. Maybe tonight would be a little different, maybe Dean would glance your way for a change, maybe there would be no toned busty beauties that would hold his attention. Maybe, just maybe you’d admit your feelings towards the eldest brother. You looked at your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers at the thought. Like hell that would ever happen.

Your thought process was broken by Sam opening the Impala door “I’ll go grab us some rooms” he announced, a spring in his step as he approached the motel reception. It’s nice to see Sam let off some steam once in a while. He was mostly all work and no play so when nights like this happened, you were always determined to ensure Sam had a good time.

You leant forward, arms leaning on the bench seat in front of you before ruffling the back of Dean’s hair, earning you a slight scowl from the green eyed Winchester. You chuckled, a smile playing on your lips as you watched his half ditched attempt to sort out his hair. What you wouldn’t give to be able to run your fingers through that hair every night, tugging it slightly as he came down onto you. You took a deep breath and willed the thought away, this man was far too perfect for you to be under, at any given time.

You looked back to Dean, who was still attempting to get his hair back in the perfect position and you nudged him gently “So, you gonna be on the prowl for ladies tonight Winchester?” Why, you thought. Why do you do this to yourself every single time? It’s like you enjoy torturing yourself over the things you couldn’t have. But you couldn’t help it, you had to ask these questions, hoping that maybe one day, he would surprise you with his answer.

Dean stopped looking in his rear view mirror and turned to look at you “Who knows, maybe. Play your cards right sweetheart, it could be you I’ll be coming back with” He winked, a small smile playing on his lips as his eyes scanned your face.

You grinned and looked down, doing anything you could to prevent the heat from blushing your cheeks. He made the same joke every time. Same old Dean, same old answer, same old blush.

“Oh honey, do you ever get bored of giving me that answer? You know I’d break you” you winked back. Two could play at this game and you wanted to wipe that shit eating grin off his face.

“Not if I broke you first” He replied, his grin getting wider as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

You couldn’t help but snigger at his actions all the while squeezing your thighs together to prevent the arousal that was beginning to pool between your legs. The thoughts flowing through your mind weren’t exactly helping. The thought of Dean fucking you into the mattress until you couldn’t walk straight, the idea of him pinning you up against a motel wall and ripping off your underwear only to feel his three day old stubble grazing your thighs…yeah…not helping.

“…and how would that go exactly?” You countered, your voice wavering only slightly not wanting him to catch on to the effect he was having on you.

Dean smiled and pulled his bottom lip through his teeth and he looked away, chuckling. There wasn’t many a time where Dean wouldn’t come back with some sort of smutty remark so you considered this a victory. You smiled wider as you leant back into your seat, the flirting was nothing new. Hell, you and Dean did it all the time. Sam had more than once mentioned that Dean had met his match and he had no idea who had the dirtier mind.

The impala door opening brought you from your thoughts and you smiled as Sam ducked his head down just through the frame “There is only one room left for tonight but it has two queen beds and a sofa bed”

Sharing a room with the boys wasn’t nothing new, it had happened on more than one occasion. All of you rotating around so you share the comfort of the beds and the un-comfy sofa bed equally. You grabbed your duffel from the side of you, exited the Impala and walked around to Sam who held the key in his hand.

“Well...dibs on the first shower!” You declared, snatching the key from Sam’s hand before bolting towards the motel door.

“Son of a bitch Sammy!” Dean shouted “Grab the bags” He declared as he jumped out from behind the steering wheel and started running after you.

Looking over your shoulder you giggled as you saw Dean making chase. Childish as it was, this happened near enough every time you stayed at a motel. It was a race for the first shower and if you were honest, you weren’t much for getting into the shower after two grown men had done god knows what under the hot pressured spray. Oh yeah, you’ve been in that situation before. Hearing rugged hushed moans through the bathroom door as you waited for your turn to wash off the monster guts, only to be greeted with an orgasm glowing doe eyed Dean when the door swung open. Now as nice as the image of naked Dean jacking off in the shower was, it wasn’t with you or on you so going into the shower which had been the scene of his one handed show, made you feel a little uncomfortable. Who knew if he’d washed it all away this time? What if he missed a bit and you stood on it? The thought made you shudder.

You reached the door and desperately tried to get the key in the hole, stifling laughter as you did so. Your heart was thumping in your chest as you saw Dean in your peripheral vision catching up to you. You were just about to turn the key in the lock when Dean’s body was pinned up against your back, holding you up against the door. His arms reaching for yours as he pulled you backwards laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs out. You managed to wriggle one arm free and turned to grab hold of Dean’s ear, pinching it ever so slightly making him lean to one side “Ahh dammit Y/N!”

You laughed as you saw him squirm enough to let go of your other hand so you took your chance to get him into a headlock, only to have Deans arms circle around your middle and under your legs, lifting you into a bridal position with no effort what so ever. A squeal left your lips and you started to wriggle, making it impossible for Dean to keep his hold of you. You looked to your left to see Sam squaring in on the door with the bags in hand and you knew you couldn’t let either of them win this war.

You wriggled free of Dean’s grasp just as Sam opened the lock and you ran as fast as you could towards the youngest brother. Just as Sam opened the door you were through but his large hands caught your wrist “C’mon Sammy, let me go and I promise I’ll support whatever healthy eating habit you’re on and all of the food runs I do over the next week will be to salad bars”

Sam let out a hearty laugh as he watched your eyes widen when you saw Dean walking closer towards you. “You really think I’m going to let you win after that promise Y/N? Rabbit food, really?” Dean shouted, a boyish grin painting his face.

You silently pleaded with Sam whilst smiling and just as he let your wrist go, Dean came charging into the motel room and practically tackled you onto the bed.

“Sammy go, go!” He shouted, all the while pinning you down and stifling laughter. Dean was near enough straddling your waist and you couldn’t control the heat that suddenly flushed throughout your body. You struggled as Dean fought to restrain your hands above your head, albeit you struggled half-heartedly as this position was a delight to be in. You huffed as your struggles slowed but you caught Dean’s eyes as you did so, your movement slowing completely. His beautiful green orbs were staring straight into you, they held a softness that you don’t get to see very often and it calmed you. You felt the heat rushing into your cheeks as his eyes bore into yours and your breathing became laboured. The more you tried to keep it steady, the more unsteady it became.

The moment was over as quickly as it had started as the sound of Sam picking up his bag and running into the bathroom quickly gained the attention of you and Dean. You watched as Sam strode to the bathroom with ease, a smug smile on his face aimed towards you as he shut the door, the sound of him locking it signalling your defeat. You threw your head back onto the bed, your hair spraying over the cover “Oh come on, I dibbed it you assholes”

You sighed in frustration, albeit friendly but still, was it too much to ask just to shower first ever now and again? You threw your head to the side, your stare very much focused on the bathroom door. Dean chuckled as he looked down towards your submissive form “You take ages in the shower, admit it” He teased, his hands still firmly pinning yours to the bed.

You rolled your eyes as you slowly brought your head back to the centre position, your breath hitching in your throat as you noticed that Dean seemed to be closer to you than he was before. His hips and lower stomach were just grazing over yours, the tight black shirt he was wearing showing the toned figure underneath, the red flannel shirt he was wearing over the top was open and was hanging either side of your frame, the sleeves rolled up just before his elbow.

You would be lying if you said that your underwear wasn’t a little bit damp right now. Dean was close enough so you could see the few freckles that dusted across his nose and cheeks, his scent of mint, leather and gun powder was intoxicating. You tried to compose yourself, clearing your throat and confidently looking him in the eye “Well I have to make myself look pretty somehow, beauty sleep doesn’t cover it on its own” You said it as best and as confidently as you could, trying to throw the green eyed Winchester of any scent that would scream that you were attracted to him.

Dean grinned slightly as his eyes scanned your face. It wasn’t the cocky shit eating grin you were used to when it came to this flirting rodeo. It was soft, sweet and sincere. He huffed slightly as he broke eye contact, his gaze travelling down to your lips “You don’t need to make yourself look pretty sweetheart’”

Before your brow could crease with confusion, the shit eating grin spread across his lips and you were back in familiar territory “Aww sweet, that some sort of compliment?” You shot back, you wrists wriggling in his grasp.

Dean let out an exasperated breath and looked down, you always had a hard time believing you were beautiful. Dean would watch you on nights out at a bar, backhanding compliments men gave you, deflecting them in some way. You were never vocal about how you felt about yourself, especially in front of the boys. You always thought they would think you were fishing for a compliment, which you weren’t. You saw yourself as normal, not drop dead gorgeous, just normal. You liked food; carbs and grease. You liked the occasional beer and whiskey. You liked that you wore minimal make up every day because it made you feel damned good when you decide to go all out. That was you and you were happy with that, unbeknownst to you, so was Dean.

You felt Deans grip around your wrists loosen which snapped you out of your ten second thought. His head was still dipped low and as you shifted your view slightly, you saw he had a perfect view of your breasts and he was taking it all in. How they rose and fell with each steady breath. A smirk found its way onto your lips as you had found your advantage. You moved your legs slightly ensuring they were in the position you needed them to be in. You silently thanked your past self for dressing in a tank top just so you could take advantage of it for this moment. You clamped your legs either side of his hips and in one swift motion, you’d rolled him over onto his back, your hands now clutching his above his head, your breasts dangerously close to his face.

“Goddammit sweetheart” Dean almost growled. He was surprised, impressed and incredibly turned on. He had no idea how you hadn’t seen or felt the growing bulge in his jeans. He wet his bottom lip with his tongue as he looked up at you.

You dipped your head lower, your gaze switching between his eyes and his lips. You purposefully brushed yourself against his chest, lowering yourself just enough to whisper in his ear “Your first rule of fighting Dean, don’t get distracted”

Within seconds, the bathroom door had opened and you jumped off Dean, grabbed your duffel and practically shoved Sam out of the room. You locked the door behind you, turned around and leant your back up against it. The throbbing between your legs was getting a bit too much to ignore. You felt like a giddy teenager all over again, you were just missing the female best friend and the late night phone call where you curl your hair around your finger. You and Dean always flirted, always play fought, you’ve trained together and been that close before. Why was this time any different? You pondered that thought as you gently bit your lower lip, you enjoyed his weight on top of you, and enjoyed being the weight on top of him. Turning on the shower, you started to undress. Maybe it was your turn to have a little fun of your own under the hot water.

Back in the motel room, Dean sat himself up on the bed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck slowly. He looked up to see Sam staring at him, a bemused expression on his face. “What?” Dean stated flatly.

Sam sniggered, his eyebrows raised “What was all that about?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair “What was what about?” He replied, a slight annoyance in his voice.

The youngest Winchester shook his head as he stuffed his clothes from the hunt back into his duffel bag “Dude, Y/N was straddling you when I opened the bathroom door” Sam stated, a coy smile on his face.

Dean scoffed “We were just… play fighting” It wasn’t a lie, it started off as just play fighting however the thoughts that were going through his mind as he pinned you on the bed were somewhat explicit. Maybe he just needed to get laid tonight, he thought.

“Yeah right” Sam chuckled, noticing Dean’s faraway look “So does play fighting normally include you looking so flustered?” Sam teased as Dean locked eyes with his younger brother. Dean felt the tips of his ears turn pink and he frowned in annoyance.

“What-shush Sammy. You don’t know what you’re on about” Dean snapped as he began to take off his boots.

Sam suppressed his knowing smile, it had been clear to him for a while that his big brother had feelings towards you, even though you both called it harmless flirting. Although Sam knew that his brother would never admit to such a thing, always putting everyone else before himself “Uh huh” Sam sighed as he sat in front of his newly set up laptop, intent on distracting himself with some research on any nearby cases before they headed out for the night. As much as Dean would deny it to Sam, or to anyone, he had started to feel differently around you. He enjoyed the harmless flirting, he enjoyed training you at the shooting range back at the bunker and he enjoyed the nights out you all had together. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he just enjoyed spending time with you. Dean took a deep breath and he sighed, running a hand over his face before finishing by scratching at his stubble. You had stirred feelings within him that he hadn’t felt for a very long time, feelings that he was currently trying to disguise by pulling on the material of his jeans as discreetly as he could.

Whatever these feelings were, he knew he had to supress them and push them deep down. You couldn’t know how he felt and neither could anyone else. He couldn’t have a weakness that any demon or monster could take advantage of. He kept telling himself in his head that he didn’t deserve you, he couldn’t bear to be without you, and so he needed to keep you safe. That meant keeping you at arm’s length.

That was the right decision, wasn’t it?

Tell me your thoughts!

Any like, comment or reblog would honestly mean the world to me. I’d love to know your thoughts and opinions. I have a good chunk of this written so let me know if you want to come along for the ride...

Tag list is open!

Shatter Me Tags:

@squirrel-moose-winchester @witch-of-letters

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deniigi · 5 years

Note

If you’re still doing the fic prompts, something with Tats Spidey and the whole gang, rallying around one of them who got sick and needs help? (prompt in honor of a recent diagnosis that I’m still trying to accept). Maybe have a dinosaur involved somehow, idk

Hey friend.

It’s not complete or like, amazing, but here: Peter’s got an anxiety disorder.

–

When he’d first gotten the diagnosis,Peter wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. Part of him thought that hey, hefinally had a reason—a state sanctioned, recognizable reason to feel like shitall the time. Literally all the time, but the idea of having to live with this—thisconstant state of fear. Heart-pounding, hands-shaking fear. Panic at the dropof hats and the desire to run, trapped in his knees at all times.

He couldn’t imagine a life likethat.

He couldn’t imagine having towrangle this beast every day for the rest of ever.

Just the thought brought everythingback into the center of his chest again and the weight there made him want tocry. Sob. Scream out at the unfairness of it all.

But then a hand caught his forearmand another one started stroking his hair.

“Honey,” May said, “You aren’talone. I’ve got it, too. I know. It’s scary, I know.”

The knots holding his chesthostage loosened at the sound of her voice. At the realization that hey, Maywas just a normal person. She did normal people things. She went to work, shecame home, cooked an inedible meal, watched shit tv, raised a child, and thenwoke up the next day to do it all again. She’d done that for years, longer thanPeter had been alive.

And she’d made it.

She didn’t have any specialpowers. Just…tenacity. Quiet tenacity.

May wrapped her arms around himand told him that it would be okay and he wanted so bad to believe her.

–

“Aw, kiddo. Take a deep breath,you’re gonna be fine,” Wade said, sharpening knives at his table. “When theydiagnosed me with the schiz I thought the fuckin’ world was ending. Thought I’dnever find quiet again with these fucking characters chatterin’ around in mygoddamn melon all day. Not to mention all the other shit, feel’s like thefuckin’ floor is fallin’ in sometimes, right? I get that.”

Sometimes the floor. But othertimes, it felt like his heart was a void, sucking all the pleasure andhappiness and calm from everything and everyone around him. Including himself.His heart felt sometimes like it sucked the serotonin and dopamine from his ownbrain.

Selfish. Unendingly selfish.

“Peter, breathe. In. Out. Countto three.”

“Out.”

“Good. How many days does it taketo break a habit?”

What? What did he mean?

“I mean, how many days does ittake you to add new shit to your routine without that thing naggin’ at the backof your head?”

Peter didn’t know. Peter hadn’thad anything to deal with like this before.

“’Round 2 months, they say,” Wadesaid. “Somewhere around two to three months for a lot of things. Longer thanthat for some people, some things, but we’re talking two to three months forlike, simplicity’s sake. And actually, you deal with it all the fuckin’ time,believe it or not. Think about it—when you moved into your new place, how longdid it take you to start leavin’ your keys in the same damn place? How long didit take you to get used to livin’ in a dorm? When did the novelty break off?How long did the coolness of your bein’ 18 last? New shoes to stop hurting. Summerto be boring. We assimilate pain and newness and change into our lives everyfuckin’ day, it just takes us a couple of weeks for adjustment. All you gottado, Pete is get through that period of shock and frustration and things’ll evenout, kiddo. It’ll become your new normal and once it’s your new normal, shitwon’t feel so void-ish.”

Really? Like? Could he promise that?

“Can’t promise you shit, babyboy, but I can say that sittin’ around fixating on it will just break you inhalf.”

Right.

Okay. Breathe.

In.

Out.

–

DD: [voice message] peter you’re gonna be fine. You’ve carried thisaround for years, all that’s changed now is a piece of paper and yourawareness.

SM: I know. It just feels unbearable. Like, if I tell people, theyassume shit. Judge me. Oh, you have anxiety, you’re fragile. Or oh, you haveanxiety, you just need to get over yourself.

SM: shit like that, you know?

DD: [voice message] yeah I know. Trust me. I know. But they ain’tthe ones carrying this burden and in the end, they don’t matter. You got all thesepeople in your corner, kiddo. And we aren’t gonna let you fall. We’ve beenthere, we’ve got this. All you’ve got to do is reach out when shit gets realand we’ve got you. You understand?

SM: yes?

DD: [voice message] doyou really?

SM: maybe. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. I should just dealwith it, it’s my problem.

DD: [voice message] boy if we carried all our burdens by ourselveswe’d just break. There’s a reason people have got two hands. One for us, one togive to hold another’s. If one of them’s empty all the time, it feelspurposeless. Lean into it, Peter. For the sake of the other hands that want tohold yours.

SM: I don’t understand.

DD: you will. We got you. Call me if you need anything. Anytime.Anywhere, yeah?

SM: yeah. Thank you.

–

So the study about habit forming is here if you care: http://repositorio.ispa.pt/bitstream/10400.12/3364/1/IJSP_998-1009.pdf

But really, this is based off of my own experiences with my anxiety and tinnitus (there is absolutely nothing that has fucked me up more than realizing that I constantly hear things that no one else does and nothing I can do will make it stop. It triggered my anxiety BIG TIME and no amount of reading/research/forums helped with that. I only really felt better when my mom called me and revealed to me that she has had the same thing for her whole life and she’d never, ever told me, which to me, was a testament to how I could get used to it and move on with myself. She told me that eventually it would just become my new normal and once I stopped trying to reject it, it actually has. It still scares me sometimes, but it’s bearable and I am learning how to cope.) Obviously this is most likely not the same as your situation and it is a fairly mild/harmless condition for me, so I’m not trying to diminish what you’re going through, but rather I just hope that you get to experience that feeling of relief and of being held up by all the hands that want to hold yours, even when you feel like your palms are vastly empty.

Anyways. Wish you the best!

#fic #tw: anxiety #inimitable verse #ficlet

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