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authornina · 3 years

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Introducing: Loire Ivy Porter

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

"Sav please get the hell out my face!” Avery yelled at him. He was standing at her side doing breathing exercises as if he were the one having a baby. She wasn’t even in active labor.

They were out shopping when her water broke and he’d been acting a damn fool. First, he had the nerve to still pay for all their stuff while everyone was looking at him crazy, then he stopped to get something to eat on the way to the hospital. If Avery wasn’t hungry too she would’ve beat him up.

“I’m tryna help ya fat ass!”

“Do it look like she comin’ right now? Call me fat again! Matter fact, get out! Don’t come back until Lake get here!”

“He said not to leave you.”

“What did I say?”

“Your word don’t trump his nigga, fuck outta here.” Sav moved her over and laid down. Avery wanted to elbow him right in the mouth. “You nervous?” he asked, rubbing her big stomach.

“A little bit, I didn’t have to do all this with River so I don’t know what to expect. Ivy and Haze said it wasn’t hard.”

“You doin’ it natural, right?”

“I’m gonna try.”

“You gon’ be good, A.”

“I just want her to make it out,” Avery said, sadly.

“A, she gon’ be fine. Don’t worry bout that shit.”

Sav and Avery talked just about everything so he already knew she was afraid to give vaginal birth for the first time. He constantly told her not to stress about it.

Lake walked in and Avery instantly relaxed. Everything automatically felt better and her confidence went up ten notches. He bent down giving her a kiss and if she wasn’t about to have his daughter she would’ve pulled him on top of her and went to town.

“Get the fuck out her bed nigga!”

“Oh now since you here, I ain’t shit no more,” Sav scoffed, getting up. “I’m the one that bought you some food.”

“After you stood in self-checkout while I was leaking fluid every damn where!”

“He did what?” Lake asked and Sav ran out of the room. “Told your ass not to leave the fuckin’ house anyway, you don’t listen.”

“Was River okay?” Avery asked, ignoring what he had to say. It already happened now.

“Yea, she told me to give you this.” Lake went to one of the bags he brought in with him and handed Avery their daughters favorite alien plush. She started tearing up. River didn’t like doing anything without it.

“She...she wanted me to have it?”

“Mhm.”

“She loves me.”

“Of course she loves you, A. What the fuck?”

“Don’t act like you don’t see how she treats me.”

“She just a Daddy’s girl, that’s all.” Lake held her hand giving it a gentle kiss. “This one gon’ be worst,” he said, and Avery started bawling making him laugh.

“You just wait until I get me a son. We gon’ leave all three of y’all in the dust!”

“Did I miss anything?” Oceana came barging in. “Oh no,” she rolled her eyes at Avery. “She still up in this heifer.”

“Should I get an epidural?”

“No,” Oceana answered with the quickness. Avery wasn’t even talking to her. “Babies are supposed to be born natural. I pushed Lake big ass out when I was seventeen. No medicine, no nothing. Get in beast mode and thug it out.”

“What do you think, Lake?”

“I want you to do whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Now tell me what you really think,” Avery said making him laugh.

“The shit can lower your blood pressure, pushing can be harder, increase you tearing, my baby can have muhfuckin’ respiratory problems--”

“Mhm,” Avery laughed. “There’s my husband,” she said, knowing Lake only wanted to make her feel better the first time. He always did his research on shit then talked about it with Ivy and Avery knew he did not want her to get an epidural but would support whatever she chose.

“Auntie is hereeeee,” Ivy sang gliding in smelling like lemons.

“You smell good,” Oceana said, sniffing her.

“That’s my new product I was in the process of creating.” Ivy went to Avery’s side. “How are you feeling sissy?” she asked rubbing her belly.

“Nervous.”

“We got this,” Ivy held her hand, kissing it. “Don’t you worry.”

After about three hours the contractions started to kick Avery’s ass. She was sweating profusely, and Ivy put her hair up in a bun.��

“Breathe through it,” Ivy said, all in Avery’s face, breathing on her neck.

“Ivy, I love you so much, but please back up off of me.”

“Oh my bad,” Ivy laughed getting up from the bed. She had her feet propped up comfortable as ever.

Avery closed her eyes trying not think about the pain and uncomfortableness. She was worried about her daughter. Lake was on the phone constantly telling everybody not to come up there, but they were already on the way. They didn’t want a big fuss about the new baby. It was already a lot of pressure on Avery.

“Hello, how are we doing?” the doctor knocked before coming in. “Avery, I know we’ve talked about the—”

“Just a second,” Avery squeezed Lake’s hand letting a contraction pass. “Ohhh my God.”

“How was that contraction on a scale from one to ten? One being little to no pain, ten being extremely painful.”

“A seven.”

“That’s it?” Lake asked her. “A, don’t lie.”

“I’m not, it hurt but if they’re all going to be like that, I can take them.”

“How about we check your cervix, hm?”

“Nah, I checked, she only at four.”

Avery gave the doctor a tight smile. She could tolerate Lake doing it because his fingers were long, but her doctors were small, and that added unnecessary discomfort and pain. Plus, Ivy told her they weren’t necessary, and she could refuse them.

“Okay well…we’re monitoring your contractions; they are getting pretty close. The baby is vertex which we love to see, so I’ll be back to check on you in a little or if that little sweetie decides she is ready sooner.”

“Thank you,” Avery said, and the doctor nodded leaving. “Lake, help me turn on my side.”

Avery looked at the entire set up for her baby. Lake grabbed her hand seeing all the worry on her face.

“It’s gonna be fine. She gonna be fine.”

After about another hour, Avery’s contractions got worst and worst. The nurses came in getting prepared. Everything was happening so fast she started yelling for everybody to stop touching her.

“It’s okay,” Lake talked her through the panic.

“No, I’m scared,” Avery cried and even the nurses had the look of empathy. She wasn’t loud or anything, simply fright covered her face.

“I know but I’m right here and I got you. We almost there. Let’s get her out, okay?” Lake spoke so soft to her. Everyone looked at each other smiling witnessing such a tender display of affection from a father to the woman he put in this position.

“Okay but I can’t push like this. I don’t feel comfortable at all. It’s hurting me more.”

“Would you like to get on all fours?” the doctor suggested.

“I could try.”

“That’s her favorite,” Lake just had to add, and Avery hit him. Everybody was cracking up. He and Ivy helped her get into doggy position while a nurse took off her belly monitor.

“Oh wow, mom, we are fully effaced and dilated,” the doctor was surprised Avery wasn’t complaining of pain anymore. The position she was in definitely brought her much more relief. “When you’re ready, give me one big push.”

“Lake, help me!” Avery yelled, as if he could do anything for her. Everyone in the delivery room were trying their best not to laugh. Ivy pushed on her back a little thinking it was doing something and Lake looked at her like she was dumb.

Avery lowered her top half a bit, laying both hands flat on the bed and pushed as hard as she could. Loire slipped right out and fell into the doctor’s arms, everyone’s jaw dropped.

“Oh shit!” Ivy covered her mouth.

“Was that it? She came out? Lake was that her?” Avery looked at him and he stood stunned.

“Yea…yea, that was her,” he laughed. Lake cut their daughter’s connection to Avery.

“WHAT?”

“Mom, you did amazing!” the doctor exclaimed. The afterbirth fell out when Avery yelled what. Everybody was crying laughing. That was the easiest birth they’d ever seen.

Avery was helped turning back on her bottom. She watched Lake pick their daughter up while the nurses were in the middle of doing their job.

“Sir, we have to—”

“Wait a second,” Lake told them, he felt his chest tighten in disbelief that he created the beautiful little human in his arms. He put their crying baby girl on Avery’s chest, and she stopped instantly while sucking on her fist.

Avery had tears in her eyes because she felt accomplished. Everything that was a complaint deemed worthy that very second. Nine months of worry, an extra twenty pounds, kankles, heartburn, and bad acne were worth every single second.

“I don’t be thinkin’ I can love you more than I already do then you give me blessings like this.” Lake kissed her then their daughter. He watched her go through a tough time being pregnant and after the son they loss, he was grateful she even wanted to do this all over again.

“I’m happy to do it for you,” Avery said full of sincerity. She’d give her husband a million kids if that’s what he wanted. Anything good, Lake deserved it.

Once Avery was taken to recovery and Lake finally let the nurses do their job, everyone was getting to see the new addition. Avery was propped up in bed while Lake sat beside her with their daughter.

“Oh my goodness...” Chi smiled, standing over them. “Look at her...Lake spit that girl right in A coochie!”

“He did,” Sav laughed, getting a good look at his niece. “She look just like you bro.”

“What’s her name?” Wreck asked.

“Loire Ivy Porter,” Avery said, smiling at her sister who started tearing up. She didn’t know they would give Loire her name.

“Really?” Ivy bawled. “Y’all just doin’ too much today,” she said fanning herself. She kissed Avery then gave Lake one. “Can I hold her?”

“No,” Lake answered dead ass serious and they all were dying. He was starting with the shit already.

“Don’t feel bad,” Avery laughed. “I only got to hold her once.”

“Where did Oceana go?” Ivy asked, sitting on her bed. She tried to touch Loire’s mass amount of hair and Lake turned her away.

“To get me some food, I’m hungry.” Avery looked around realizing someone was missing. “Where is Dem?”

“He said he’ll come see y’all when you go home,” Sav said. “That bitch gettin’ on his nerves.”

Nicole was not Nicole to any of them. She was “That Bitch” most of the time. Avery turned her nose up at the mention of her. She couldn’t stand Nicole even more especially for what she was putting Dem through just to see his child.

“No comment.”

Everyone stayed for a while until Lake kicked them all out. Avery fell asleep and he sat in the dimly lit room holding what felt like everything. A few hours old and he could see himself all in Loire’s face too. It was weird staring at yourself in another human, something you created. He wondered if that’s how his dad felt when he was born. He pulled his phone out to call River. Vant answered but it was quickly snatched out of his hand.

“DADDY!” River screamed.

“Mommy had your baby sister.”

“I see!” River yelled with her face all in the camera. “I see Daddy!”

Lake flipped the camera around putting it on Loire and River really started tearing up. The phone looked like it pressed against her face. He could hear Vant laughing in the back.

“Bro, she kissin’ the phone,” Vant laughed. “Get your lips off my shit, River!”

“NO! My baby!” all of a sudden you saw little feet moving a mile a minute while Vant chase her all through the house. River was cracking up thinking it was game.

“I’ma whoop your lil bad ass!” Vant threatened. “Wreck come get this muhfu—”

The phone disconnected and Lake laughed at the craziness that was his daughter. His family period. He never thought it would get this big. His heart would feel so full. His life be this complete. Nobody would have been able to tell him five years ago he’d have all of this.

“Lake!” Ivy peeked her head in and he nodded. “It’s all set up. Avery gonna be so happy when she sees it.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Ivy said, closing the door.

Avery yawned, trying to hide the smile on her face. She knew a push present awaited her when she got home. Staring at her husband though, Lake looked so at peace. Besides their children, it was the best gift ever. His smile. Simply him.

“Is she everything you thought?”

Lake always said how blessed he was to have her and his children, but he did so much more than he knew for Avery. Waking up every day to a man who loved her unconditionally was the gift that kept on giving. That’s why Avery would put her body through childbirth. That’s why she’d go to the ends of the earth fighting for Lake’s peace. He deserved so much, and she was happy to be a part of contributing to his happiness.

“More…thank you, A.”

“You are so welcome.”

#On Us #authornina #Nina

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scaramoucheslove · 3 years

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Oo hello!! I discovered your Albedo fic while on my scroll, and sheeesh 😫😫 made me feel things,,,,, but I digress, could I request how Xiao or Albedo would deal with a bratty sub?

And,, if I may,, could I be 🏵 anon? ;0

A/N: Hi, Love! Tysm for your support <33 I actually thought no one liked or even read the Albedo smut lolol. Also yes ofcc!! Hello my first anon :D also I’m gonna make this as a HC/drabble thingy hehe

also I’m so sorry if it’s shitty aaa

How they would deal with a bratty sub (HCs)

(Xiao, Albedo)

What to expect: Rough shit, Petnames, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Degradation, Dumbification, facefucking, Exhibition kink pls tell me if I miss anything ^^

Smut beneath the cut

XIAO

· Really easy to get on his nerves tbh.

· Would definitely not tolerate your behaviour. Especially if you’ve been good.

· “Stop. Behave.”

· His punishments would lowkey highkey hurt </3

· He’ll give you the rough treatment, choking, marking, overstim, you name it. Maybe even toys??

· D E G R A D A T I O N <33 you will be hearing no praise from this man.

· Humiliation too omgomgomg

· DUMBIFICATIONNN AA

· Will most likely use the name “Pet” “Doll” “Bitch” “Slut” “Whore” etc

· And you’ll have to call him master in bed, but today we’re going to pretend that you just didn’t feel like it.

· “Tsk, seems like my pet is misbehaving again”

· I feel like he wouldn’t like physical roughness as much, since he’s not much of a sadist. But if he felt the need to remind you of what your position was, then he’d probably only go as far as spanking.

· If you cry, he’ll humiliate you for it

· “Are you crying? Where’s your act now, brat? Continue counting.”

· Deep down, he loves lives to see you cry.

· He’d continue to overstimulate you with his mouth, fingers, and dick until you were begging, crying, screaming, thrashing.

· He’d mark almost every part of your body

· He WILL choke you and bite your neck as he’s pushing himself inside of you.

· Mans has no patience, will go ALL out on you. Who cares if his hands and tongue were too much anyways? You were the one who wanted to act like a brat.

· “If you don’t keep that little mouth shut, I’m going to stuff your slutty mouth with my dick you whore.”

· And if you keep pushing his buttons? He would.

· Completely facefuck you until you’re all fucked out, crying and out of breath.

· He loves to see himself in your throat.

· The type to hold your nose while he shoves his dick down your throat <3

· Not the best at aftercare, but he still tries his best.

· Will apologize to you even if it’s half assed, gets you cleaned up, and brews you a nice cup of tea.

· You probably drifted off to sleep already once he brought you tea.

· Will smile and hold you close and even though he doesn’t sleep, he would still just lie on the bed and appreciate every moment with you.

“Xia- Master- ah- please” you didn’t even know what you were begging for now. For him to stop? For more? You didn’t know. What you do know is you’ve been begging for over an hour now, your voice was hoarse and tired after all your screaming. Your eyes were watery and begging for forgiveness. But alas, it went from one ear to another. The room sounded so sinful. The two of your sweaty bodies collided, your arms clinging onto his neck as he continues to pound into you. Faster. And harder. “Stop. Fucking. Shouting.” He said while he thrusts in every word. Annoyance clear in his voice. “Shut up and take it, will you?” He said before moving his arms from your hips to your neck and applying pressure. “Dumb little sluts like you don’t even deserve anything from the likes of me.” Seeing your drooled up face, he couldn’t help but say “Look at you all drooled up, doll. You look so stupid like this. Who else can fuck you stupid like I do?” “O-only you mas-ter” you managed to say. He smiled momentarily before his other hand reaches your clit to rub it as your mouth fell open. Fighting the urge to call you his good girl.

ALBEDO

· I’M IN MY ALBEDO FEELS PLSS

· He’d just be like 🤨🤨.

· Usually completely unaware and uninterested so he’d continue to do his work.

· You have to be a real brat to really test his limits.

· I think he wont be rough intentionally. He’s just rough without realizing he is. Even on your daily sex life.

· OKOK NOW if you DO manage to break him somehow, here’s some of the punishments he’ll prolly do.

· Humiliation.… degradation… bc chile… he ain’t much of a talker but SHEESH if he dirty talks it’s over. Oh but he won’t go too far. I hope..

· He also sometimes uses you to help with his experiments.

· Spanks, chokes, slaps, and other physical things but not too roughly, just for “research purposes.” And sometimes for punishments too if you ever got too out of hand.

· Loves to see you tied up tbh <33 really likes to see you all helpless.

· Gags on occasions (if he’s working on an experiment or punishment and he’s not in the mood to hear you moan or make a noise or anything)

· Dumbification?? without him realizing it?>@>@*&^$^$%

· Petnames <33 plspls i beg u call him sir or master bc that’s such an ego boost for him. I mean you don’t have to but like,, why wouldn’t you.

· Also loves the thrilling feeling of someone catching you two.

· Toys,, sometimes.

· Imagine being a brat in your daily life and one day he just snaps.

· As he was doing his work, you, being the brat you are continued to test his limit. From asking him dumb questions to “accidentally” smashing/destroying his experiments.

· He just sighed, cleared his table and said,

· “Y/N. Come here.”

· You would be so shocked that you froze in your spot.

· He never really paid attention to your actions, just casually answering your questions from time to time.

· “I said, come here.”

· His voice was stern, but calm.

· “Don’t make me come over there myself.”

· You, along with your shaking legs, were slowly making your way towards him.

· “Sit on my lap.”

· You did as you were told. Hell you were too scared to do anything he didn’t say you could.

· “Say, did you know the things you broke?”

· You just shooked your head as your legs kept shaking.

· “Since you don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself, I’m gonna force you to keep it to yourself, brat.”

· OOP I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE IT AS A HC LMAOO IDK I’LL CONTINUE IN THE DRABBLE LMAO

. Anyways probably kinda good with aftercare.

. Will apologize if he’s too rough and shower you with attention. If you’re lucky enough, he’ll skip his work that day and the day after to spend a day or two to make it up to you.

Albedo continues his ministrations on you. “Master- fuck slow down” you panted. Your hands tied above your head. you were sprawled on his table as Albedo continues to insert 2 fingers inside and out of you. “Oh? Were you not searching for my attention then dear?” He inserted another finger as you whimpered. “You were the one who happened to mess with my experiments, after all.” “But I-“ you didn’t manage to say anything else before he has his tongue on your clit. He had kept your legs open with a tool so you had no power against him. “Albedoo~” You whine once more which caused his other gloved hand to slap your clit. You flinched a bit, but fuck that felt good. He stopped moving his hands and said “You better be quiet before I gag that mouth of yours.” He continued to thrust three fingers in and out of you again as you rolled your eyes back and moaned. “Fuck, you look so dumb, doll. You look so pretty like this.” You heard the door knock and you immediately looked at Albedo while shaking your head. “Come in” you heard him say. A man went inside the room and stood still with some files in his hands and clearly distracted on whatever was on the paper. “Sir, we have a prob-“ Once he saw what was going on, he looked a bit terrified. “Continue. What is the problem?” Albedo asked calmly as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. They continued to talk about some things you couldn’t register because you were slowly losing your mind little by little, although the man did sound a bit flustered. By the time they were finished, Albedo just said his thanks and told him to close the door. His mouth latched onto your clit once again surprisingly fast and your mouth fell open. You were sure drool was everywhere. “I’m going to keep going until you’re all brainless and unconscious. But before I do-“ just as about you were about to reach your high, he pulled out his fingers and gave you a look. You whined at the lost of contact. “You better be ready, my love.” That was all he needed to say before you realized, you were in for one hell of a ride.

STOP OMFG I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE ALBEDO’S LONG I HAVENT EVEN FINISHED THE CHILDE SMUT I’M WORKING ON

#Xiao smut #albedo smut #Genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact albedo #albedo #xiao #genshin impact xiao #smut lol #❄ anon

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afrival · 3 years

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AOT Characters When Drinking HCs

My friend and I were talking the other day and made some HCs about the AOT characters when they’re drunk— I shall share a them here 😎🤙

cw// alcohol, vomit

modern au shit so this like doesn’t apply season 4 characterization

The 104th Gang

Eren:

- Angry drunk

- To quote my friend, you would say something around him and he's just "ohmmy GODDD shutttt the fuck UP”

- It literally doesn’t matter what you say he will tell you to shut up

- Picks fights for no fucking reason, especially with Jean

- If they’re out to drink he would start a fight with a stranger

- Mikasa literally has to drag him away from fights

- Probably drinks too much and vomits for HOURS and then brags about how high his alcohol tolerance is

- Claims he doesn’t get hangovers but everybody knows he’s lying because he will absolutely just zone out of every conversation the next day

- Always looks like he is on the verge of vomiting again

Mikasa:

- Does not drink because she has to babysit Eren

- However when she does she does not drink a lot

- Probably gets like really flustered and embarrassed, maybe a little touchy b/c her head hurts or something

- Like she’ll lay her head on Sasha’s shoulder meanwhile Eren and Jean are yelling at each other in the background

- Does get a hangover but usually it’s just a headache and she’ll be EXHAUSTED

Armin:

- COMPLETE fucking lightweight oh my god

- Do not give this man alcohol he will absolutely get wrecked

- One glass of wine is probably enough to get him tipsy

- I can’t decide if he would be the kind of person that gets really emotional and cries about everything or if he would go on long drunken rants about the most random shit

- Probably both

- Like he would be crying about the fact that he learned about otters having a favorite rock or this REALLY round corgi he saw last weak and it was just too cute

- Mikasa has to babysit both Eren and Armin whenever he drinks because Eren will absolutely try and drag Armin into his fights

- And with the drunken courage he has Armin would absolutely join in by yelling or hyping Eren up

- He becomes such an enabler

- Would have a hangover if he didn’t pass the fuck out and sleep the entire next day

Connie and Sasha:

- Two for one deal, they are always hanging out whenever they drink

- They’re the most CHAOTIC fucking duo ever, like they would somehow get their hands on a bunch of firecrackers and let loose

- Sasha would probably try and talk to any animals near by

- Connie would be laughing and saying shit like “SASHA the dog can’t fuckin’ talk back 🙄”

- They spend their hangovers bitching and whining about how much it hurts

- Probably would wrap themselves up in blankets in a dark room and snacks and spend the whole day just waiting it out

Jean:

- Same thing as Eren

- Except he also gets more flirty, but it’s not good and usually he ends up embarrassing himself and scaring away the girl he was talk to

- Finds Connie and Sasha and joins them on their shenanigans if he ain’t arguing with Eren

- Probably claims he has really good ideas and then next thing you know all three of them are in a police station and it’s definitely his fault

- “What the fuck made you think taking that woman’s dog was okay”

- “It looked SAD, Connie! And Sasha helped me!”

- “NO—“

- Spends his hangover day with Sasha and Connie

Historia:

- The most giggly fucking drunk you will ever meet

- Laughs at EVERYTHING and asks really dumb questions because suddenly she just has one brain cell

- Also a lightweight just not as bad as Armin

- Ymir has to babysit her and then when Ymir is drunk is the other way around

- They take good care of each other

- Ymir thinks she’s the most adorable thing ever and probably gives into every dumbass request Historia makes

- “Ymir! Let’s go out to eat!”

- “Hist, it’s 2am.”

- “So? There’s someplace open somewhere!”

- “...Fine.”

- Also sleeps her hangover off but Ymir has some water and pain meds ready for whenever she wakes up

Ymir:

- Oh dear lord she becomes very cocky and flirty

- Hangs off Historia’s shoulders the whole time and absolutely starts a fight with whoever looks at her gf

- Eren tried to fight her once and he got his shit beat

- The next day she would be so dramatic about how much pain she’s in just to get Historia to pay attention to her

- And ofc Historia always does < 3

The Warriors:

Reiner:

- Mans becomes such a an emotional bro

- Like he will throw an arm around literally anyone and go off about how much he just thinks they’re the darndest thing

- “Bert have I ever told you how great you are?”

- “All the time. Like a lot. You’ve said it 12 times in the last 10 minutes. Are you okay?”

- Completely denies it happened the next day and pretend he doesn’t feel like shit

- Bertholdt would find him dead to the world on the couch in some weird ass position and then force him to get up and go to bed

- “Dude you smell like ass.”

- “Shut up and just get me some water please.”

Bertholdt:

- Does not drink a lot at all especially around the 104th

- He has to make sure nobody fucking dies, especially Reiner and Annie

- He would have a beer or five with Reiner every so often and then he’s like really clingy and cuddly

- He’s embarrassed about it the next day and also pretends he never got hammered

- Sometimes one of the 104th will walk into their house and Bertholdt would be squished betweeen the fridge and the counter

- He has somehow made his way into the kitchen and will just fall asleep it the weirdest fucking places

- Reiner leaves him there because he feels to bad to move him when he looks strangely comfortable all twisted

- Whenever he and Reiner drink together they will send drunk snaps to their friends

- “Bertholdt just messaged me???”

- “Is he with Reiner?”

- “Yeah I think s— oh no.”

Annie:

- Doesn’t drink a lot either but when she does she also tries to start fights with people

- It never works out and she ends up having really deep and heartfelt conversations with them

- Like I imagine her trying to fight Armin and he’s just shaking I’m his boots and then she just stops and says

- “Ya know, sometimes I get really sad...”

- And so begins the start of their friendship

- For all the AruAni shippers I feel like she would be really protective of Armin and make sure nobody starts anything with him

- Or if they’re with Eren and the gang she will throw hands with Eren if he tries to drag Armin into his disputes

- She also probably hangs around Mikasa to make sure she’s okay and to pretend to hate it whenever Mikasa lays on her shoulder or thigh because she feels sick

- Banysits Reiner and Bertholdt whenever they’re drinking together, and then bullies the fuck out of them the next day

- “You guys are dumbasses.”

- “It was REINER’S idea!”

The Veterans-

Levi:

- DOES NOT DRINK even though he absolutely would

- He like becomes such a fucking mom lowkey especially whenever the kids are getting out of hand

- He’s dealing with a bunch of toddlers plus Hange and Erwin come on

- “Don’t touch that.”

- “Put that down.”

- “Quit yelling.”

- He never offer to clean them up or get them anything because that’s disgusting, however he does make sure everybody is at okay before leaving

- Like that they’re all breathing or nobody is missing

- After that he’s out and then the next day he just stares at them like the most disappointed parent ever

- He tolerates Hange and Erwin a little more, like they both get clingy and he actually lets them just hang off of him or something even tho he hates it

- Would probably hold Hange’s hair back if she throws up, or at least make sure it’s tied up. He has to resist the urge to vomit himself because he just cannot handle it at all

- But then he would just leave her on the bathroom floor asleep

Erwin:

- Oh boy he probably gets so emotional

- The complete opposite of his usual personality it’s so fucking funny

- Will cry about anything and once again like Reiner and Hange will talk about how great you are

- Doesn’t remember SHIT the next day and literally has no clue he acts like this and refuses to believe it whenever somebody tells him

- Hange recorded it once and he just “😐 Delete that, please.”

- Hangs around Levi and is very grateful that he lets Erwin be an annoyance

Hange:

- Tells the kids to be careful with alcohol and then immediately is found face down in a bush

- She becomes like 10 times more bubbly and absolutely batshit

- Laughs really loudly at everything

- She and Armin would get into excited like half conversations about fun science facts or whatever

- Like they absolutely geek the fuck out

- She also probably goes off about how much she loves everyone

- “LEVIIIIII!!! You’re so WOMDERFUL!”

- “Thanks. Now get off of me, bitch.”

- Levi has to babysit her and Erwin LMAO he’s the designated driver every single time

- Always knows the perfect cure for a hangover so she doesn’t usually have a really bad one

This turned out A LOT longer than I thought it would be, oops! Anyway I love doing these so I’m gonna start making more. I will probably do a lot for AOT and Hetalia so 😗✌️ prepare for cringe

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haechanokeh · 3 years

Text

I'm Right For Your [pt. 6]

(you can play Die For You by The Weeknd while reading this 😌)

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning: corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, anal sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, psychology, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

I think I’m right for you, babe. You know what I’m thinking, see it in your eyes. You hate that you want me, hate it when you cry. It ain’t workin’ ‘cause you’re perfect and I know that you’re worth it I can’t walk away. (Die for you by The Weeknd)

the next morning you made it at the right time in your first class. it's a usual morning, everyone was talking except for two things.

mark did not greet you and he's not sitting beside you nor his bads or anything from him. bit you felt relieved because for just at least one day, you want a mark-free day. he's giving you so much stress lately.

there's a quiz for your first subject and you studied it with mark on saturday. okay, you're just an average student so of course it's very hard for you but you were very thankful that you studied with mark because you're very confident answering some questions. you felt guilty for being mean yesterday but… you couldn't help it. you were afraid and it's as if it was your defense mechanism to became rude to him yesterday. yes, you're afraid of wanting something that you think you don't deserve.

after the quiz, your professor continue on its lecture and finished the whole slide.

"okay, for your homework. of course, it's always by pair. i'll give you 3 minutes to look for your pair and tell me who you are going to pair with because you will choose a number that has your case question. don't worry, it's not hard, it'll just test your good decision making and morality. so, you may start looking for your partners " he announced. you cursed inside your head because it's another homework or activity that is by pair. you hate pairings or groupings, you prefer doing things alone.

they all started to talk to each other, going to one person to another asking if they wanted to be their partner or if they already have a partner on the other hand, you remained sitting on your seat. you said to yourself that you're going to be partner with someone who's the same with you, unwanted. but half of you was waiting for mark to approach you but it seemed like he already got his partner, mina. you were stealing glances at them so yeah, now you'll have to wait for whoever doesn't have a partner.

you're sighed and tucked your hands on each side of your blouse' pocket, resisting to pout. but someone sat beside you, your heart almost jump and excitedly looked beside you. but to your disappointment it's lucas.

"you look disappointed," he chuckled. "do you have a partner?" you shook your head as an answer. "do you want to be my partner, i mean i'm not as smart as mark but i-"

"what?" why did he bring out mark's name? "no, really i'm fine whoever i'm going to be partnered with. i just want this to be over."

"yeah, of course." lucas laughed. well everyone knows you're the type of person who prefer to be alone. "you should smile more often, i thinks he likes girls who always laugh and giggle."

"who?" your forehead knotted in cluelessness. he gave you playful smile and scooted closer to you.

"i know you like mark." he whispered into your ears. your eyes circled in shock.

"no, i don't. what are you talking about?" you lowered your voice. but lucas wasn't convinced.

meanwhile, mark who's controlling his facial expression as he secretly watching the both of you, now broke. his face became serious when he saw lucas' shoulder touched yours and when his lips were near your ears and whispered something. he's glaring at him. mina saw it all, he always watches mark.

she knew that there's something between the two of you, and she felt scared. mina likes mark, everyone knows that already and when they heard that you like him, she feared that she would lose her chance. but mark's face says it all. mina is not dumb, she notices how mark's been all over you and now he witness another side of mark, a jealous mark.

"mark?" mina called his name. mark blinked and shifted his attention to mina.

"what?" he politely asked.

"do you want to change your partner, i mean... you obviously want another." mina slowly glance at you and mark followed you. mark swallowed nervously.

"ha, i am that obvious?" he asked nervously. mina smiled.

"yup." she replied. mark stared at you for a couple of seconds but you're comfortable with lucas, he guessed that you have a partner now.

"let's just be partners." mark smiled at mina. her heart skips a beat but with pain.

it's been three days of no mark but his presence is still there. you missed mark's touch, you missed the frustrations and highs.

that's why while your mom's aways, you're making the most out of it.

you put your vibrator into max.

"mark!" you screamed his name, your eyes rolled pussy and legs pulsating. you were screaming his name with shame but pleasure.

you sat up and stared at your room blankly while catching your breath. you remove the bullet from you. you get out on your bed and go to your bathroom to clean the vibrator. you put it back in its bag and hid it in your closet. you crawled on your bed and lay there hugging tightly a pillow.

"i miss him." you became honest to yourself. you don't know if you miss him or just his touch but attachment you feared is finally happening.

you should've stopped him or yourself from touching you... or you should've totally give in?

the next morning, you groan in pain. as if your head was being drilled. nobody noticed it because you're good at hiding your expression and emotion. unlike your classmates, mark see all through you. your switching brows, discomfort face, quick massage on your forehead, and your quick nap when you have a chance.

"hey." lucas nudged you. you lifted your head and your are squinting adjusting your vision.

"hmm?"

"some of our classmates will go to mark's house to answer legal ethics case. i was thinking if maybe we-"

"no." and you shove you head back down.

"why? you can meet your in-laws already." he grinned. you sat up and pinched his hard arms. "ah! okay okay i will not tease you. but i mean, we're having a hard time in what laws will be used against the defensor." he has a point.

your professor don't worry, it's easy is a lie.

you sighed. "fine."

"yes!" lucas fist pumps and jumps out of his seat just to tell he's going.

mark was watching all along. he saw you shove your head back again. he wanted to detach his ass from the sit but what if you ignored him again? mark giving you time to think, and of course he also wanted to think. but those days without you is absolutely a frustration, he never thought he wanted someone this much. he also thinks, and hopefully he's right, that your reaction the last time you talk was because of jealousy. but what he hated the most is your fear of loving him just because the two of you don't fit in. so does she think someone suits her better than him?

no, i'm right for you and there's no one else but me. it's an obsessive statement but mark is already aware of that. you turned him like this.

now you understand why they always wanted to be in his house. it's huge, and you know this house too. you never thought the nearby huge house is mark's house.his house is very popular, well not his house itself but his mom and dad who's a pastor because they are so kind and loved by the neighborhood.

mark's mom is already outside the door greeting each on of us. mark and mina is infront of you.

"lucas! i missed you dear." she hugged lucas. her eyes landed on me. "oh my, a new face." she smiled at you. you smiled back (don't forget the work awkwardly.)

"nice to meet you, i'm y/n." you politely said.

mark's mom gazes at you and lucas as if she's teasing both of you.

"you're girlfriend?" her brows were bouncing up and down. you and lucas just awkwardly smiled at her but before you deny it to her, mark’s nerves snapped.

mark turned his back and walk towards you, he literally squeezed himself between you and lucas. he put his arm across your shoulder and the other arms are on lucas. your breath hitched. you missed him this much.

"mom, we're getting inside." mark covered his irritation with a lovely smile.

"okay fine fine. make sure that you won't do anything dumb okay?" she said to his son and reach him for a kiss.

"nice meeting you again sweetie." she looked at her son again. "i already cooked some food. be back at 1 in the morning. don't wait for me and your dad." she patted mark's chest and left.

mark removed his arms from you and look at lucas.

"c'mon." he said and entered the house. he did not give you a single glance.

i knew it, he's mad at me.

you literally wearing your flat face. you are bot hiding it as you sat on the end of the couch with lucas beside you.

"how is this a group study? I thought we're going to answer the homework?" you told lucas with a low voice and teeth gritting in disbelief.

"mark already reading it, let's just wait for his notes." he said eyes never leave the huge tv.

you squeezed the bridge of your nose and stood up. you want to go home but before that you have to take your paper from mark, so you walked in the dining area. he's there reading about 5 papers in total.

why is he tolerating their laziness? you said annoyingly while watching him from behind. you sighed and gather all your courage to walk towards him. you were beside him and he felt your presence so he looked up. he noticed your eyes looking for something.

"care to tell me what are you looking for?" his brow lifted.

"our paper. i want to go home, i wasn't supposed to be in here. i thought we will answer it." you finally saw your paper and grabbed it. you look down on him straight in the eyes.

"you shouldn't allowing them to make you answer their homeworks mark. you're not helping nor being kind." what you're doing right now is obviously called scolding, and you know what? you made mark smile,he felt that you cared for him..

"it's okay, it's my advantage too. i got to read a lot of cases, i'll just treat it as if i'm studying theirs." he looked back at the paper he was reading. you rolled your eyes

"geek." you murmured and he clearly heard you.

"have you taken a paracetamol at least?” he said out of the blue.

“excuse me?” you were kind of lost. he looked at you.

“your head ache.” he said. your jaw dropped in amusement.

“how did you know?” he just smiled at you and shrugged as his answer. “i already did but i think i need to rest.”

both of you weren’t aware that you were having a casual conversation.

“you can use that room.” mark pointed at the 3rd room from the corner next to the kitchen.

“oh no, thanks. i’ll just head back home.” you politely declined but mark was not having it.

“you will rest there or else i am going fuck you in this table.” he threatened you. of course he wouldn’t do that, mark never will share you.

“you wouldn’t” you chuckled knowing that he was just joking.

“try me.” he challenged you but his tone of voice seemed like you wouldn’t dare. you swallowed nervously.

“they’ll look for me.” you whispered.

“no they wouldn’t. you’ll have to take your bag, i’ll just tell them you already left. once the tv is open they don’t care about anything.” he convinced you. his tapping his index finger on the table growing impatient. “rest because you need energy later.”

“for what?” you furrowed your brows.

“for me.” he gave you an eye smile… a scary one. it was fake but looked so genuine… but twisted.

you finally woke up. you looked at the digital clock table near you. it's 8 in the evening. you sat up but good lord you screamed when you saw a figure sitting at the end of your bed. it was mark.

"mark!" you touched your chest and tried to make your heart calm.

"eat your dinner and your medicine." he said in a monotone voice.

"are you mad at me?" you ask him the dumbest question, EVER. you obviously at fault, you just threw him outside your house without any explanation.

"no. " he replied and stood up. "let's eat." he's so cold, he left the room.

your chest became heavy. you followed him, eyes sticking at his icy figure. you felt suffocated and you just saw yourself chasing his back and embracing it. mark's body tensed as he felt your tiny figure behind him and short arms around his waist.

"i don't like it when you're mad. don't be mad at me." you were shoving your face against his back. his sweet but masculine cologne lingers into your nose and it made a calming effect. "i'm sorry if i was being mean." you shove your face more because of embarrassment.

"fuck…" mark cursed under his breath. you were so irresistible. he turned his body, facing you still arms around him. he witness your red as beet face. he cupped your cheeks and stared at your eyes.

"was it jealousy?" he asked referring to what happened that day. you shyly nodded your head. "i have something to tell you."

you blinked waiting for him to say whatever he wanted to tell you.

"i love you." mark missed saying those 3 meaningful words.

he then captured your lips. you shared an aggressive and eager kiss, your teeths are almost clashing with each other because of how aggressive mark is. suffocation was there but you love it. there was drooling, but you love it. they are moaning, and you fucking love it. mark squeezing your breast, fondling it, massaging it. until your shirt and bra were sitting on top of your round firm breasts. he then lifted you and made you sit on the dining table. thank god the table is long and that the food was far from you.

his gave you kisses down to your breast. he was nipping and your breasts. all you could do was moan. your hands playing the tips of his hair.

“i missed you so much.” he sincerely said while hungrily eating your breast.

“you were ignoring me.” you were supposed to sound lonely and sad but you moaned your words. it's impossible not to because gawd his wet and cold mouth feels good.

“i gave you some space but i don’t like it when someone occupies that space other than me.” he murmured. he went back to your face, giving your feathery kisses.

mark felt threatened when everyone keep on saying that lucas and you seemed close and actually look good together. they say that you need someone like lucas, bubbly and noisy. every time he hears that his blood boils. the fuck they know. he say.

you are quiet yes, but you have a lot of side. you are funny, you're savage, cute, and funny- and noisy especially when... you know. you are hardworking too, even though you sometimes procrastinate you make sure you study and understand the lesson. the down side is you just have low self-esteem and not honest to your feelings. but you are not just the quiet and the loner

“head still hurts?” he stared at your face.

“kinda.” you answered honestly.

“should we try if orgasm really make-” before he even finish his sentence you lift your back. you were expecting him to move back his body but he stayed still. you stopped before your lips touch.

"i'm hungry." you said. mark's eyes fell on your lips.

"do you want to do it here or to my room?" he asked. your nose scrunched.

"no, i mean i'm literally hungry for food." you said almost laughing at how disappointed he looked.

"food can wait." mark mumbled like a little kid throwing tantrums.

"you don't let the grace wait… right? i thought christians are thought to be like that." you were being cheeky. he widely smiled at you.

yeah, they don't know anything about you. you are more than the quiet and loner girl. i will never let anyone know this side of you, no one will appreciate you like i do. no one fits with you like i do. no matter how many times you deny it, i'm right for you.

"hmm? is there something on my face?" he was staring at you for quite long now so you felt conscious on how you look.

"let's eat? i thought you want me to take my paracetamol." you pouted.

"how about we go to nonpharmacological management?" you cringed when you hear his technical words.

"what? water?" you snorted.

"no, orgasm." he smirked and pushed your chest down, you felt the cold glass on your back. you cursed under your breath because of his sexiness.

mark rolled up your skirt and pulled down your panty. he did not waste any seconds, he dive into your wetness. he flatly licked your slick. you purred in excitement. mark pressed his thumb on your clit which added to your pleasure. mark sucking your folds, and every juices inside you while rubbing your clit.

"mark…" you moaned signalling that you are going to release. mark switched his thumb to his mouth and tongue, eating and rubbing your clit. he inserted two fingers inside you, and your back arched in intense pleasure.

"mark, please don't stop." he curled his finger and swear your eyes crossed when he hit your spot. "right there, right there, right there!" you cried loudly.

he never missed hitting your spot, and he was literally becoming aggressive in your clit. softly biting it, eating it, spitting on it.

"ohhhh…" you couldn't think properly nor talk properly. you legs involuntarily squeezed mark's head. his free hand pushed your one leg flat on the table to spread your legs. you couldn't handle the extreme pleasure building up on you.

"no… fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" you sat up, pushing mark's head away from you. your head threw back and eyes rolled back, you almost saw your brains. hands unconsciously rubbing yourself as you release… so much?

you squirted on mark's pants. your back fell on the table, it hurts but you're too high to complain. you were catching your breath and you were light headed. you're aware of what happened but you don't have energy to get embarrassed.

while your lashes are still fluttering and your chest aggressively going up and down. mark was really satisfied. he wiped his face using the end of his shirt. he leaned forward, arm resting on the side of your face.

"no headache?" he was teasing you. you laugh through your highs.

"yeah."

✨if you want to be added in I’m Right For You Tag List, you can DM or Ask me so i can add you ✨

Tag List: @cloudykeiji @jjikyuu @sunshinedhyuck @wassup-haeyadwae @erisxczenie @mrklyy @resceluwu @jenotation

#mark lee #nct 127 #mark lee nct #nct 127 smut #nct #nct mark #mark lee fanfic #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee angst #mark lee scenario #mark lee imagine #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct imagines #nct dream smut

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darker-soft-starker · 4 years

Photo

Starker High School AU Pt. 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

---

tw: general howard stark warning

---

There is a buzzing by his ear.

At first, Tony doesn’t really notice it, waking up in short increments before being pulled back under. But he keeps waking, unsure what keeps tugging him out of his dreams, hand flapping around his face as he tries to stop the incessant ringing.

“Blergh,” he mumbles into his pillow.

Batting his hand around to quell the source of annoyance, he comes to grip his phone, squinting as it lights up inches away from his face and vibrates against his palm. For a second he thinks it’s his alarm, but then he remembers that he didn’t set one. It’s a succession of text notifications cascading down his screen that alerts him out of the slope of slumber with a start.

The only time his phone goes off like this is an emergency. The first thing he registers is that it’s only eight-minutes after seven. He blinks, sight clearing from the sleep wedged in his eye as he reads the flurry of still-incoming texts.

> so thanks for last night > yknow > for the ride > i mean > you know what i mean > anyway > so that folder i gave you had my BIO notes, not econ > im such a doofus > i need them back > don’t bother looking at them lol > can we meet up?

Tony groans, eyelids heavy as anvils. Jesus christ. He didn’t get home until four after dropping this guy off and he’s already up and bothering him? What gives?

Exhausted and annoyed, he tucks his phone under his pillow and sets it on do-not-disturb for extra measure. There ain’t no way he’s getting up at seven on a Saturday for fucking class notes. Prick.

In his opinion, he’s filled his quote of good deeds for the month and he doesn’t need to be up for another few hours. Whatever it is, he thinks, snuggling into his pillow, he’s sure it can wait.

---

The next time he wakes it’s just after nine. There’s a gap in his curtains allowing a sharp shard of sunlight into the room where it directly pierces into his eyelids.

He groans tiredly into the drool patch on his pillow, willing sleep to come back to him, turning on his other side, gripping the edges of the quilt and tightening it around himself until he is firmly cocooned within it. It’s nice and warm, and sleep is such a rare commodity to him so it’s novel to bask in its dregs. But there isn’t any more sleep to come he’s quick to realize, giving up after a few minutes and blinking up at the ceiling.

Nine is practically six. It’s criminal to be up this early.

There’s an unusual flurry of texts on his phone, some from Rhodey, but most of them are from Parker, an endless ladder of increasing franticness.

Tony tosses his phone to the end of his bed carelessly.

It’s been literally less than twelve hours since he’s had to deal with the shithead. Surely whatever was lodged up his ass couldn’t possibly be as important as Tony ignoring him.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he stands and stretches his arms up high, fingers curling. The stretch feels good and he takes a quick sniff of his armpits to gauge if he can forego a shower for the third day in a row.

The stench is wicked. It’s possible that he’s overdue.

He strips off as he heads towards the adjacent bathroom, naked and nursing a semi.

He can’t help but shudder as his back meets the cold tiles, the intuitive shower head following his body with a mechanical whir, miscalculating its aim and spraying him in the face.

Ah. That will need to be recalibrated, he notes.

But, he can’t say he really minds, tolerating the spray, even as it hits his mouth like a fire hose. He ducks his head to wet his hair, reaching blindly for the touchpad to dial down the pressure. Once the water is to his liking he reaches down to take himself in hand, leisurely stroking himself.

It’s just a perfunctory part of his morning ritual; he doesn’t really have anyone in mind as he brings himself to full hardness, just the fleeting memory of lips around his cock, the next of a well rounded ass, not feeling particularly creative.

Okay, so maybe he pictures some big, brown eyes and dark hair he can run his fingers through. And maybe he goes off like a rocket. That’s his business.

Anyway, once he’s out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he inspects his appearance in the mirror. The bruises on his face are still pretty gruesome, deep purple and beginning to yellow around the edges. The cut on his lip seems to be well and truly scabby.

Turning to the side, Tony takes observation of his overall torso region; his stomach is not as defined as he’d like it to be - probably due to his affinity for carbs and sweets, if he’s honest. Between a few fingers he can pinch the skin and pull it a little -- and look, he’s a bit soft around the middle, but he lifts, alright. Maybe he isn’t exactly steel cut like the dudebros on the football team who have made being ripped their life mission, but he has musculature under the adipose.

Is he a little self-conscious about it? Sure. Is he worried about it enough to give up garlic bread and cronuts? No. Especially when he spots a new chest hair nestled comfortably between his pecs.

Probably a bit too proud of himself because of a singular piece of hair, Tony gets dressed in a pair of jeans that have seen better days, speckled with singe marks and thinning at the knees and a singlet, slinging on his leather jacket for the finishing touch.

He almost forgets the bot.

“Look at you,” he says, to the mangled mess of metal on his desk. Scooping the injured, beeping bot Tony stuffs it into his backpack. “Come here, darling. Shh, you’re okay.”

Peering both ways out of the hall to ensure the coast is clear, he quickly descends the stairs, shushing the bot the whole way.

On the ground floor, he pauses when he hears voices coming from his father’s office. It takes a second to recognise the voices, his father and Stane arguing over one another, loudly, then softly. He tries to listen in, catching somewhat audible hisses about the company finance officer.

Careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak he tiptoes to the kitchen to pocket a few muesli bars and a water bottle from the fridge.

The voices get progressively louder as he sneaks to the front door, silently saluting their maid as he passes. She waves back at him, offering a sympathetic smile as he goes out the door.

His heart pounds as he reaches his car, parked around the corner street.

“Alright, baby,” he grins, revving the engine. “Let’s go.”

---

“The fuck?”

It’s hard to be sure, but perhaps Rhodey doesn’t expect Tony’s unannounced arrival at his front door. Not if the furious scowl and bunny slippers on his feet are anything to go by.

Nonetheless, he slips past the front door, welcoming himself into his friends home, despite the exasperated outcry of for fucks sake Tony, it’s Saturday and it’s not even noon, can’t you call ahead?

No, he can’t call. Well, actually, he reconsiders, heading down the hall to the basement, his friends footsteps echoing behind him, he probably could, but it wouldn’t make anyone less mad at him, so what’s the point?

Besides, judging by the empty driveway and barren living room, Rhodey’s family is already out, he’s not sure what the issue is.

“The issue is I am tired, man,” his friend complains, following him down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Me too, honeybear, freakin’ exhausted,” Tony mutters, skipping down the stairs. “Go back to bed. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“Oh sure, and let you solder your fingers together again. Nah. Not taking the fall for that.”

“I’m not going to solder my fingers together. I’m a pro.”

“Unless you need me to remind you of last summer,” Rhodey takes a seat at the workbench, “I suggest you shut up.”

“You’re rude, you know that?” Tony asks, retrieving the bot from his backpack and setting it upon the bench. “I’ll have you know that I’ve learned since then.”

“And yet you still refuse to wear gloves,” his friend sighs, settling heavily upon the adjacent chair. There’s a comfortable quiet between them while Tony works, carefully settling all the pieces onto the table, moving each with care.

It’s hard to miss the weight of observation on the back of his neck, but he lets his friend drink his fill before he’s ready to speak.

“You fuck up something?” He points to the bot.

Tony shakes his head, pressing the solder into the circuit board. “No. Well, yes. The coding is perfect, as usual, but this idiot isn’t any smarter than a Roomba. He’s meant to be smarter.”

“So?

“He is smarter. I dunno, sometimes he messes up,” Tony mumbles, reaching blindly for the bent-nose pliers before Rhodey places it in his hand. “He’s not bad, just dumb. It’s not his fault.”

“And again, what happened? Did you run him over?”

“No, the old man got sick of me playing with ‘toys’. Dumb-dumb here met the wall in a very dramatic fashion. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.”

There’s a sigh from behind him.

“Does that explain your face?”

Tony glances behind him and smirks.

“You mean my dashing good looks?”

“Tony.”

“Honestly? I got into a fight with a feral racoon that ran off with some old lady’s purse. It nearly cost me an eye, but I saved the day. She called me a hero, gave me some stale crackers from her purse and then gave me her number.”

“Tony.”

“Fine. I was skateboarding. I was in the middle of executing a super complicated kickflip but lost control when an enlarged gutter rat scurried in front of me. I flew headfirst into the gravel. Very embarrassing. That work?”

“Tony.”

“Look, just leave it will ya? God, you’re like a nagging wife. Pick whichever story makes you feel all nice and fuzzy inside.”

Rhodey is suddenly before him, waving something in his face. “Your phone, jackass. Your better half is calling?”

Huh?

Tony blinks, gently setting down the pliers and the chip he’d removed, taking his phone. It vibrates, Your Better Half flashing across the screen.

“Parker, ugh.”

He really should have changed the contact name by now, he thinks, swiping to answer.

“Alcoholics Anonymous,” Tony answers by way of greeting. “How may I direct your call?”

“Ha ha, very funny, asshole. So you are awake. I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.”

“I know. I’m beginning to think you actually might have separation issues,” Tony says. “I just got rid of you like eight hours ago.”

“I’m calling about the folder. Didn’t you read my texts?“

“Oh, I read them,” Tony settles back on the stool and continues to work on the main circuit. “See, I was just ignoring you. Hoping you’d take the hint, but I forget subtlety is lost on you.”

“Look, I need my notes. Can we meet up?”

“Right, for Bio,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“No. I, uh -- I have a test first period. I need to study for it.”

“Uh-huh. Just remember, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. You’ll be fine.”

“I take AP Bio, asswipe, I’m aware of that. Can I just get it back, please?”

“You take AP Bio? Was that an admin error or something?” he asks, holding the chip he’d retrieved earlier up to the light to inspect for any damage.

It looks to be ok. The damage to the bot overall seems to be mostly cosmetic, couple of scratches, a few dents. Nothing that a few replacement panels wont fix. Whatever he hasn’t already got stored here Rhodey will surely have spare parts, it’ll be fine. God, what would he do if his friend didn’t lovingly tolerate Tony using his space for storage and barging in whenever he lucks. It’s lucky Rhode’s parents are so chill though, unlike his own. He may be a hot-head but he’s practically a saint compared to -

“ - hello? Are you still there? I can hear you breathing.”

Tony blinks. “Right. Your notes. Look, I’m kinda busy. I have a life outside of you and I don’t actually care about your academic integrity, so, you’re gonna have to wait.”

“For how long?”

“I’ll drop them off this evening, like six-ish. Hey, maybe we could do that interview with May if she’ll be around.”

“...I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“C’mon, I already told you I’m not actually hot for your aunt. I’ll be professional.”

Rhodey shoots him a bewildered look.

“That’s not what -- look, whatever. Just don’t be late okay. I have a life outside of you too.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I’ll try and not get in the way of your weekend plans of crying while you masturbate.”

“I literally hate you.”

“And yet you aren’t denying the crying. Anyway, I have to go now, try to clean yourself up before I get there. See you at six, bubby,” he hangs up, cracking his neck before refocusing on his mangled creation. “Now where were we?”

“What the fuck.”

Tony pauses, pliers in hand. There is a particular expression on Rhodey’s face erring on the side of confused and haunted.

“What?”

“’Bubby’?”

“Don’t say it like that - it’s like an inside thing. Don’t repeat it to him, alright, he’ll get pissy. And then I’ll get pissy.”

“You know it’s just a project, right? You two aren’t actually married.”

“Thank god. Could you imagine being married to that guy?” Tony shudders. “Scary.”

“Two weeks ago you said he was the bane of your existence. Now you have ‘inside things’ with him? You saw him last night?”

He sighs, shoulders dropping. Yeah, he doesn’t really have a good explanation for any of that.

The thing about himself, Tony’s found over time and trial, is that he really, really likes to press buttons. He likes to test variables, wants to see what would happen if he did something he wasn’t supposed to, and map out the world as it occurs in motion around him. Curiosity means he likes to test the parameters, to see what can yield, what will bite back.

More often than not that kind of impulsive brand of curiosity has gotten him in some sort of trouble. Turns out not everything and everyone appreciates being tested - and many things like to lash out when pressed.

Parker, Tony has found, is somebody that doesn’t yield or bite. If Tony was a betting man he’d have placed his money on the boy being more of a yielding type - but what he does is he presses buttons just as much as Tony does, buttons he didn’t even know he had to be pressed.

And that very much interests Tony.

He just doesn’t know what to do with that information, except to keep pressing.

“I’ll explain later,” Tony promises, mentally crossing his fingers. “In the meantime, can we forget about Parker and focus on my broken baby here?”

Rhodey relents, but Tony knows that look in his eye. He’ll be hearing about it later and at the most inconvenient time. And he’s gonna tell Pepper.

Wonderful.

He really should change Peter’s contact name in his phone.

---

By the time he leaves the Rhodes residence and heads to his next destination, his robot is in somewhat in working order again. It remains fairly immobile though, just until Tony can replace the damaged infrared and touch sensor. It clicks its metal claws sadly towards Tony in the passenger seat as he drives.

It’s a Roy Orbison kind of day, so the music is loud and the guitar is heavy as he makes the drive to Harlem.

And if Tony frees a hand to pat the bot on its’ metal head every so often, that’s his business.

When he reaches the other side of the city he parks in his usual space at a nearby lot and contemplates whether or not he should leave the malfunctioning bot in his car for the sake of being professional. It clicks at his jacket, weakly grasping the material as if on a plea - and damn, Tony knows the thing isn’t actually sentient but what kind of asshole would he be if he left it here for the day.

Heart squeezing with sympathy, Tony delicately places him in the backpack, leaving the zip partially open for ‘air’.

Next, snacks.

While he’s retrieving a pack (or two) of Reeses, he comes across Parker’s folder that he’d stashed there last night. Their conversation from earlier returns to the forefront of his mind.

Look, Parker might not be the knuckle-dragging, monosyllabic dumbass Tony initially suspected that he was, and yeah he was savvy as demonstrated during their trip to the rental market - and yeah, definitely smarter than his social circle would suggest, and is absolutely and a source of constant surprise to Tony - but is he AP Bio - or AP anything material?

Time to find out.

The first thing that Tony notices is that the notes are definitely not for Bio. They’re for Econ, as initially prescribed.

The second thing he notices, as he flicks through the papers, skimming over the complicated graphs and annotated research, is that what he’s reading is actually good.

Well, I’ll be darned, Tony thinks, eyes getting progressively wider as he flicks through the pages. Not bad at all.

Makes him wonder why Parker thought he was missing his Bio notes though.

The answer to that becomes clear when a crumpled envelope falls out of the stack onto Tony’s lap. He picks it up, at first thinking it’s a part of the research, but pauses. It’s open and it’s addressed to May Parker.

“Um,” he says.

It’s from Queens Presbyterian Hospital, which should make him drop it as if it were burning. It doesn’t, though. Either it’s meant to be included in the folder, or it’s not and that’s why Parker has been acting like a crazy-ex all morning.

Hmm. Tony sits there, torn, debating whether or not to look into it, the overdue stamp standing out against the crisp paper like a warning sign. On one hand, he’s running kinda late and, y’know, privacy or whatever -- on the other, his fingers are already itching to know what’s in it.

Mind your own business, he can already hear Rhodey saying, mind your own business, Tony.

Curiosity and a distinct lack of a moral compass wins, as always. Just a quick peek, that should be okay, right? The envelope is already open anyway, so, it’s not like anyone will be able to tell.

God, this is none of my business, he tells himself, even as he’s retrieving the letter from within and starts reading it.

Oh.

Tony quickly stashes the letter back into the envelope and back into the folder. Yep, definitely none of his business.

Yeah, he really shouldn’t have done that. Big fucking yikes on his behalf. And yep, there’s the guilt -- or at least he thinks the stomach churning is guilt, it could be the stale muesli bar he ate on the way.

Nonetheless, it hangs over him like a dark cloud as he picks up his backpack and heads out to the garage across the road. What kind of asshole looks into someone’s mail because they can’t help themselves. This dick, that’s who.

Fixing a grin he doesn’t really feel, he heads to the back office. He knocks on the window, ducking his head into the open door.

“Yo,” he waves to the man sitting behind the desk. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Hey kid,” the man looks up, smiling before his face drops. “Tony, your face. What happened?”

“This? It’s nothing --”

“-- is that why you couldn’t come to work yesterday? Not that I mind,” the man stands up. “Are you okay? Was it --”

“-- Was it nothing to worry about? Absolutely,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Just an unfortunate encounter with a wild, feral squirrel in Central Park. I tell you, they’re deceivingly cute, but they’re pests. Totally out of control.”

“Tony.”

“Jarvis,” he interrupts, gesturing to the cars in the garage behind him. “C’mon. Look, let’s get to work, okay? Save the violins for later.”

And by later he means never.

The man sighs, world-weary, looking at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. At first he’s certain his boss is going to push the issue, but it must be a day for dodging bullets because he relents.

“Alright, kid. I got a ninety-four Ford sedan back there with your name on it. Busted fan belt, overheated engine. Probably needs a new set of spark plugs while you’re at it.”

With a grateful nod, Tony heads back, locating the vehicle in question. It’s rusted to all hell and probably not worth the cost of repair, but he gets stuck into it anyway, keen for a distraction. He sets his bag and bot down near him while Jarvis blasts Alice Cooper’s Poison.

Tony might not have all the answers to life’s problems, but this is something he knows how to fix.

---

He probably distracts himself a little too well, because by the time he’s wrapped up with the Ford it’s already five-thirty and he’s a mess of engine oil and coolant.

It’s only when Jarvis squeezes his shoulder and points to the clock on the far wall does he realise that he’s lost his sense of time. How the fuck is he supposed to clean up and get all the way from Harlem to Queens at this time of night?

“Ah, crap,” Tony mutters, setting down his socket-wrench in his toolbox. “I’m late.”

“Late for what? You got a hot date or something?” Jarvis asks, stepping back to give him some room as he rushes to the staff bathroom.

“What, no,” He calls back, running the faucet and pumping soap over his hands. “I gotta go see about a guy.” He struggles to hear his boss over the running water but he doesn’t have time to stop and figure it out.

“From school?”

“Yes, and a prime pain in my ass,” Tony mutters, drying his hands on his jeans, walking back into the garage. “Anyway, see you Monday, chief?”

His boss nods, passing Tony his earnings for the week in cash. Tony should have known to dash and run because he starts hearing the proverbial violins when Jarvis clamps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that is more paternal than Tony is comfortable with.

“You know you can call me, you have my number. You come up and see me and the missus whenever you want.”

Tony fake snores.

“Jarvis.”

“We have a spare room,” he insists, shrugging sheepishly and stepping back. “It’s yours at any time.”

“I see you enough, okay, don’t push it. I’ll see you Monday,” Tony draws him into a one-armed hug and claps him on the back. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Don’t make me worry.”

“No promises,” Tony salutes, slinging his backpack on shoulder and walking backwards out of the garage to the street. “Hug the missus for me.”

Jarvis salutes back.

With that he sprints across the street when there’s a gap in traffic, bot snapping gently at his hair as he runs.

Sweaty and sore, he is full of energy, a sense of accomplishment coursing through his blood, like an afternoon of work can only provide. He should fire off a text, he thinks, as he starts the ignition and heads out onto the road, yeah. Let Parker know he will be late.

And he does genuinely mean to send a message at the next traffic stop, but then Queen starts playing on the radio and Tony isn’t a fool, okay, he turns that up loud.

Next traffic stop, he promises himself.

---

“I’m beginning to think you can’t read the time,” Parker opens the door with a scowl. “You said six.”

Wincing in the hallway, Tony looks at his phone. Six-fifty-nine. It’s not totally his fault, okay. There was a pile up along the way and traffic was a nightmare of ridiculous proportions. He swears he’s gonna be the first person to invent a commercially viable flying car just for the sake of personally avoiding road congestion.

“Yeah, so. Here’s the thing: I had things to do, okay, priorities --”

“You and your priorities, I swear to god --”

“Here,” Tony cuts him off, passing him his folder, letter neatly inside where it isn’t going to obviously slip out. “Your folder, dumbass.”

Peter grips it, holding it to his chest as he stares at Tony for a moment, before passing it to the nearest flat surface, a weathered and small table that holds their keys.

“Okay, thanks,” Peter nods, smiling grimly, looking behind his shoulder. “Appreciate it. You can go now.”

“So where are the Econ notes,” Tony blurts, wincing as he plays dumb. “I mean, if you had something prepared.”

Peter blinks, surprised. “Oh, uh. Um, It can wait until Monday, can’t it?”

“The assignment is due Wednesday.”

“Right. Um, just give me a sec --”

“Is that Tony?”

May appears behind Peter, smiling brightly. Tony waves, rocking back on his feet.

“Hey, Missus Parker.”

“Hey there, handsome,” she hip-checks her nephew, joining him in the doorway and glancing between the two. “You didn’t mention we were having company tonight, Pete.”

“He’s not handsome and he’s not staying --”

“-- I was just dropping something off,” he looks to Peter. “And excuse you, the lady has spoken and I have to agree. I am handsome. Some might even say that I’m debonair.”

“And some might say that you’re deplorable.”

“Hmm, I think you mean adorable.”

That prompts a smile out of Peter. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin up, all haughty.

“Tony Stark, you are many things, but adorable isn’t one of them.”

He leans in, pouting playfully. “Oh come on, Parker. I’m a little cute, aren’t I?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Uh, let me check,” Peter pauses before smiling sardonically. “Verdicts in - jury says you’re one-hundred-percent despicable. Sorry.”

"I’m sure I could sway the jury.”

“I think you mean you could pay the jury.”

Tony nods, pretending to be serious. “Well, yeah. You know, for consensus.”

Peter licks his lips, shifting closer.

“Consensus is important...”

“...Well, if you two are done,” May says after an extended period of silence, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “We were just about to head out to a Thai place around the corner. Tony, you should join us.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I should go --”

The rest of his words are cut off by a truly monstrous growl of his stomach. He winces, scrunching up his nose sheepishly. He probably should have eaten more than Reeses all afternoon.

“Well, I guess that settles that,” May says, stepping out of the doorway and beckoning Tony in. “Come in. Sorry about the mess.”

It’s with Peter still staring at him that he reluctantly enters their apartment, brushing past the other boy. It looks the same as it did the other week, mostly tidy and smelling like incense. There’s a sizeable stack of unfolded laundry on the dining table, however, that wasn’t there before.

Tony’s distracted by a pair of dancing-bulbasaur boxers sticking out of the pile when May leans in close to sniff at his hair.

“You’ve got something in your hair, honey. Is that paint?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, palm coming back streaked with green. “Oh, uh, radiator fluid,” he explains, holding up his hand.

“Can I ask what you did to your face?”

“I saved a homeless guy and his beef-sandwich from a pack of rabid, angry dogs. No need to call me a hero.”

May looks at him oddly. “Oh, well, if you say so. Go get yourself washed up and we can head out.”

The burn of Peter’s stare follows him all the way to their bathroom.

---

The meal is less awkward than Tony thought it would be.

Well, for him at least.

Over larb and khao pad they’d gotten through an informal interview with May about her experience as a caregiver with a single income. Not only was it informative for his own future financial independence, but she has been generous enough to speckle in colorful anecdotes of her nephew’s upbringing. Parker’s face has been getting progressively redder all night and it has nothing to do with the spice in his food.

Tony has enjoyed the evening thoroughly.

“ - and of course, we were lucky we hadn’t decided to go cheap on the health insurance. Especially when Pete here broke his wrist at gymnastics when he was eight.”

Tony barely holds back a snort.

“You did gymnastics, Parker?”

Peter tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and sighs. The flush seems to be creeping down his neck too, Tony observes gleefully. He stuffs a large mouthful of rice in his mouth to mitigate the urge to tease.

"Yes, he was very good, weren’t you, Pete? So talented, you should see his medals.”

“Stop, please.”

“C’mon, no need to be embarrassed, Pete, you were amazing,” she says. “You’re still a flexible little bug, aren’t you?”

Tony chokes on his rice.

Peter has his eyes squeezed shut and looks like he wants the earth to swallow him whole.

“May, I’m literally begging you.”

“Uh,” he beats at his chest with his fist, swallowing roughly. “So how long did you do that for?”

“Until I was fourteen.”

“Why’d you quit?”

There’s a very deliberate, weighted pause. May and Peter share a look between them and Tony gets a deeply uncomfortable sense that he’s just stuck his foot in it. Retract, he thinks, already regretting opening his mouth.

“Well,” May clears her throat, her tone light. “After my husband, Pete’s uncle Ben died, we moved away and we had to make some... financial cuts at the time.”

The bite he’s just taken goes to ash in his mouth. God, he really is a big idiot isn’t he. He’d assumed that May never got married to the man in the photos or that they’d just divorced, he didn’t realise that he’d passed - and so recently, too. Welling up with shame, he can’t stop himself from glancing at Peter, who’s staring at the table, lips pursed.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” May waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is strained. “Anyway, what about you, Tony? You’re severely asthmatic, right? That must have been hard, growing up if you wanted to play sports.”

Tony’s eyes widen.

“Yes, um, so hard. Luckily I’m not really an exercise-y kinda guy. I personally prefer to keep a heart rate below eighty beats per minute.”

“Did you have any hobbies growing up?”

“Yeah, driving my parents crazy,” Tony says, glad for the shift from the somber topic. “Escaping from nannies, seeing how quickly I could get them to quit.”

“You like tinkering,” Peter says quietly, looking up. “You mentioned, before. Cars and stuff.”

He shrugs, starting to feel as if he’s under the microscope, especially when Peter looks at him, eyes glittering with thinly-veiled interest.

“I mean, I don’t know. I like - building stuff, I guess. Machines and robots, y’know, cars. It’s like, whatever.”

“You want to be the next Elon Musk or somethin’?” Peter asks, not unkindly, resting his chin on his hand.

“Nah, I wanna be the first Tony Stark,” he scratches his cheek, suddenly bashful. It’s an uncommon feeling for him. One hard to avoid, however, particularly when there is a boy who Tony doesn’t really hate who’s asking about his life like it might matter.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, mostly it was just me cataloguing all the ways I could make the vein in my fathers’ head pop. I’m still working on that.”

May looks between them, smiling.

“Sounds like you were a handful.”

“Sure was.”

Still is, apparently, no matter how much he tries to stay out of the way.

The silence that follows is punctuated by the sounds of cutlery scraping across plates, of shrinking ice cubes rattling against glass. It feels pensive at the same time as it does thorny, like Tony opened the door to let someone in but accidentally let out a few ghouls.

And despite knowing he’d stepped on a landmine with the Parkers, he can’t help but wonder what other pieces of the puzzle he’s missing. Why Peter doesn’t live with his parents. Not that Tony is invested in him or anything.

He just doesn’t like mysteries, that’s all.

May excuses herself after to head to the bathroom not long after. It’s during that time that the waiter brings the check, which Tony takes immediately, slipping in some of the cash he’d gotten earlier, despite Peter’s protests. He was gonna do it anyway, even if he didn’t have the letter in the back of his mind.

“Stop paying for me,” Peter says after he passes the check-book back to the waiter. “Your family is rich, I get it. I’ve told you, I don’t need your charity.”

Tony shakes his head. It’s not worth mentioning that the only money he spends doesn’t come from his family.

“It’s not charity. Do you really think I’m that nice, eh? C’mon. Maybe I like lording it over you.”

“Well, at some point I’m going to pay you back.”

“And when that time comes I’m not going to accept your money.”

“You will,” Peter smiles wryly down at his plate. “I have my ways.”

“As do I, sweetums. Now, do me a favour: shut up and finish your larb.”

Peter does, but something about him shifts. It seems more quiet and contemplative, his eyes staying longer on Tony than they normally would. He wants to tell him to take a picture, but for once, Tony thinks it’s probably best if he keeps his mouth shut.

---

Back at the apartment, Peter goes to retrieve his ‘Econ notes’, taking the folder from the table and retreating to his bedroom. In the interim, May offers to let Tony stay over, inviting him for what he’s sure would be a rousing game of Mario Kart.

He politely declines.

“You sure? Winner gets to choose a movie.”

“I should really get home,” he says. “Thanks though. And thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. Thank you for paying, you didn’t have to do that. Let me pay you back.”

“No need. Think of it as payment for your services and letting us pick your brain tonight.”

She reluctantly accepts with a lot less pride than what her nephew displayed and that makes Tony feel a little sick, because it’s evident that she’s a proud and stubborn woman by nature. Her acceptance, albeit laboured, speaks volumes as to the reasoning behind it.

What takes him by surprise is when she hugs him goodbye and kisses his cheek.

“You’re a good egg, Anthony. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

It’s probably the most maternal touch he’s had since, well. Probably since he last went to stay with Jarvis and his wife. Fidgeting in the hold, he’s not sure if he wants to squirm or to sink into it.

May leaves when Peter comes back in, a familiar stack of notes in his hands that he passes to Tony.

“You gonna kiss me goodbye, too?”

“What?” Peter blinks.

"Uh, never mind,” Tony waves the papers at him. “Thanks for this.”

Peter looks around to make sure they’re alone before leaning in rather promptly.

“Wow, hold up on the proximity there,” Tony inches back, startled by their sudden closeness. “I was joking about the kiss --”

“You read the letter, didn’t you,” Peter whisper-hisses.

“What? Letter? What letter?” Tony says, voice strangled. “I don’t know of any letter.”

He gets a painful poke in his chest for his lies.

“Don’t play dumb. It wasn’t where I left it.”

“I’m not -- ow, quit poking me.”

“Then stop lying. You’re unbelievable -- don’t you know that opening someone else’s mail is a crime?”

Tony’s shoulders slump as he concedes.

“Look, it was an accident, it just slipped out. And also, it’s not technically a crime, if the envelope was already open.”

“Oh and the letter magically opened itself and forced you to read it.”

“That could be argued.”

“Why couldn’t you mind your own business?“

Sick of being poked, he shoves the papers between his arm and his ribs to hold them and takes Peter’s fingers in his hands, squeezing the digits when they struggle to break free of his hold.

“I should have, I admit it - I didn’t think, okay, I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

Peter stops struggling, looking over his shoulder again.

“I don’t know,” he leans in again to whisper, “I only found it yesterday, I haven’t spoken to her yet. Look, I know you hate me, but can you please not tell anyone about this?”

“Why would I tell anyone?”

“I don’t know, because you’re the devil, and you get a kick out of seeing me suffer?”

“True, but I’m not going to tell anyone. Promise. That would make me look like an asshole and you like a martyr. Ergo, I shut my cake hole and continue looking better than you.”

“You’re a real prince charming,” the other boy huffs, but seems to take him at face value. “If I find out differently I’m going to come after you. You’re going to need dental work afterwards.”

Tony lets go of their joined hands, balling his fists and raising them to his face, mimicking what the other boy had done last night.

“You wanna tousle, huh?”

He gets a light shove out the doorway for his attitude.

“Alright, smartass. Get the fuck outta here already.”

“Going, going. Goodnight, princess.”

He mock bows, peering up under his eyelashes, momentarily arrested as he watches Parker roll his eyes and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to smother a smile.

His heart continues to beat a bit oddly all the way down to the car, where he sits in contemplative silence for a few moments until the sound of metal clicking shifts him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, hey you,” he coos, gently retrieving his bot from his bag and placing it in the passenger seat, instantly feeling bad. “I didn’t think I would take so long. I’m sorry.”

Placing a seatbelt over the bot and buckling him in, Tony begins to narrate his night to him as he pulls off the curb and begins driving.

“I guess that Parker isn’t so bad,” he tells the bot, who swivels its head in response to his voice. “I mean, he can’t dress for shit and has questionable tastes in friends - oh, and cannot hold his liquor - but I dunno, baby-bot. He’s okay. Don’t tell anyone I said that, though -- and oh my god, did I mention he did gymnastics, what a fucking dork...”

The thoughts churn and buoy him until he pulls up to his house nearly an hour later. From the driveway he can see his fathers office light still on.

The sight of it makes his stomach drop, all good cheer gone in an instant.

“Damn,” Tony whispers to himself, tapping his knuckles against the steering wheel. This time of night on a Saturday can only mean one thing and he is really not in the mood to be in the crosshairs of whatever his father and Stane are up to.

But before he can work himself into a worry his phone vibrates in his pocket.

> hey, look, thanks for not being a total dick tonight about everything > and last night as well, I guess > yknow what i mean < ur welcome < by the way, i’m proud of you > for what < not finishing off ur aunts beer tonight < takes strength < asking for help is the first step > omfg i take back what i said > ur the worst < and ur a pain in my ass > they have creams for that u know > anyway, g’nite, butthole > p.s. you’re still not adorable Tony smiles down at his phone. < goodnight bambi The bot clicks at him, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“Don’t look at me like that. Let’s go in, but you gotta keep quiet, okay.”

He manages to avoid detection and attention from anyone, despite accidentally stepping on a squeaky floorboard. Maybe it had something to do with the record player and raucous laughter coming from the office.

In any case, Tony’s just happy to make it back to his bedroom. There, he toes off his sneakers and starts getting ready for bed, stashing the leftover cash into a drawer.

It makes him think about Peter’s reluctance for Tony to pay for over the last couple of instances, and how freaking annoying that is. And rude.

Honestly, the dude should count himself as one of the lucky guys - Tony is not that magnanimous. He doesn’t experience an impulsive, unthinking eagerness to provide for just anybody.

Oh.

Tony stills in the middle of his bedroom.

Oh no.

He knows what this is.

“This is bad.”

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny, @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers @starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen

#starker #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #high school au

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the-awkward-outlaw · 3 years

Text

Arthur as a protective Dad

Alrighty friends, I know I haven’t really touched my writing requests in sometime. I have been having to deal with some pretty complicated family issues and other things in my life, and I just haven’t had much time or energy to write. But it really is all your support that keeps me going!

This request is from a user on AO3: arthur dealing with micah after he sees him being a creep and harassing his teenage daughter. I know that sounds dumb but i just love protective and angry arthur (that kind of angry from him feeds my soul)

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Everyone knows that Arthur is the ultimate definition of protective. He’ll put himself between a bullet and any of the girls in camp. With you, he’d do even more. However, none of that comes close to what he’ll do for his daughter. Whatever she asks of him, he’ll do his best to find a way to make it happen.

When it comes to keeping her safe, no one dares to mess with Arthur’s daughter. Not in camp, not in the town camp is closest to. A man had once tried just flirting with her in town once. She’d politely asked him to stop but he hadn’t taken the hint. Arthur had walked in and seen not long after. The man ended up with a broken nose and shattered cheekbone. No one harrasses Arthur’s daughter.

Which is potentially what drove Micah to try.

Micah is well known for ruffling everyone’s feathers. Even Dutch’s on occasion, but only when Micah is feeling rather confident. But Arthur is his favorite person to upset. Micah has tried to get to him by antagonizing him, but Arthur usually would just tell him to stuff it and move on.

Micah has tried bothering you to irritate Arthur, but you were too good at handling yourself. Arthur would usually watch just in case he needed to step in, but he personally found it incredibly sexy how you’d whip around to Micah and verbally attack him. It didn’t take long for Micah to realize that to make you mad would end up in getting his ass whipped. The honest truth is that Micah is scared of what you’re capable of if he really pissed you off.

So that left one last resource to bother Arthur. His teenage daughter. You and Arthur have been together for longer than she’s been alive. If it had been modern day, you’d be described as high school sweethearts. You’d gotten pregnant when you were 19. While it was difficult for both you and Arthur to be parents at such a young age, you couldn’t ask for a better father.

Arthur says that your daughter is a miniature version of you, except she has his eyes, but you see so much of him in her to believe that. She’s strong, she’s had to be with this life. You and Arthur had debated at first of breaking out of the gang when she was little as the life really wasn’t good for a child, but the problem was that both you and Arthur were too loyal to leave. However she toughed it out and turned out to be a relatively average girl. You couldn’t be more proud.

It’s been especially tough for her these past few months, but it has been for everyone. Blackwater changed everything. You have to give Abigail credit, if your daughter was as young as Jack is, you would’ve tried convincing Arthur to leave. Then again maybe not. After all, you have just as big of a bounty on your head as he does. But it doesn’t change the fact that right now, things are tougher than ever. Especially now that Sean’s dead.

You’ve lived in a lot of unlikable places, mostly out west. Shady Belle is probably one of the worst you’ve been in. It’s hot and muggy all the time. You prefer the dry heat of the desert. At least your clothes dry out there. Not only that, but out in the west, you don’t have to be afraid of the water for the most part. Here, monsters dwell beneath the surface.

Micah has been getting more and more cocky these last few weeks. You haven’t liked it as it seems like he’s getting more under Dutch’s skin, but you’re sure Dutch will wise up. After all, he has Hosea to help him and Hosea surely doesn’t like Micah.

Arthur has been getting slightly suspicious of Micah lately too, but he’s been so busy running around to really do much. Your poor husband. You’ve done everything you can to help him, but there’s no denying that most of the camp rests on his shoulders.

It’s a few days after Jack has been returned. You’ve insisted to Arthur that he stay in camp for a while as he’s been running around like crazy since Jack went missing. It’s clear he’s exhausted. It’s a good thing too because Micah has been keeping his eye on your daughter, and not in a good way.

Micah really is growing too confident out here. He’s never dared bothering your daughter before because you and Arthur are the people he’s frightened of getting truly angry. However, it’s almost like he’s trying to absolve that.

The first few days, Micah has tried to tease her but subtly so that you wouldn’t stab him. He knows that unlike Arthur, you won’t care about keeping the peace within the gang if someone really makes you mad. You’re easier to control when Arthur is around as he seems to be the only person who can calm you down.

Now that Arthur is here and taking a break, Micah has been much more confident. There was one day when your daughter had been reading in the gazebo. Micah had gone over to her and tried to flirt with her. It was clear she was creeped out, but being a teenager she didn’t really know how to push him away. Arthur had seen her face though and he’d marched over.

“You leave my daughter alone, you creepy bastard,” he’d growled inches from Micah’s face.

“Relax, big man, I’m just having a friendly word with her.”

“I catch you near her again, I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

Micah wasn’t foolish enough to stick around then, though it did make him chuckle (mostly he did it to try and continue bothering Arthur). However, he’s been continuing to do things like this. You certainly haven’t liked the way he looks at your daughter. Of course he tries to do it when he thinks you can’t see, but certainly when Arthur can.

You’re standing next to Pearson, listening to Hosea talk about the potentials of Saint Dennis. Arthur’s over next to the fire, talking with John. Just as you’re about to go over to him and talk about things, you see your daughter running into camp, tears streaking down her cheeks. She’s sobbing. Arthur stands up and walks briskly over to her.

“Sweetheart, what-” he starts.

“Micah, papa! He… he tried to touch me!” she sobs into his shirt.

His face immediately goes red, so does your vision. “That son of a bitch!” you holler. You’re about to stomp over to the edge of camp where that bastard is. Arthur holds out a hand and stops you, his other arm wrapped tightly around his daughter.

“Let me handle this, darlin’. I ain’t given’ that bastard any more reason to hurt my family.” Normally you’d ignore him and go marching off, but something in his eyes tells you to listen. It’s that look you’ve seen only once or twice, but it’s the look that even made you nervous in the past. It’s the look he reserves for only those who he truly plans to kill.

He holds onto his daughter for a few more seconds, trying to calm her down. Then he gently pries her off of him and guides him over to you. “Stay with your mama, okay? I’m going to take care of things, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of her head and then pats your shoulder. You nod and fold your arms around your girl. That look comes back to Arthur and then he turns away, marching over to where Micah is.

“Come on, honey,” you say to your daughter. You guide her over to the barrel of water near Pearson’s wagon to get her a drink to calm her down. If you weren’t so confident in Arthur’s ability to protect his family, you’d be pulling out your revolver and shooting that asshole right now, but you know you don’t need to.

Arthur’s marching over to where Micah was last seen. As he passes his horse, he spots his repeater. It won’t be needed, not for this. He’d prefer to do it with his bare hands. Micah has been a growing problem that he’s tolerated, but he will not accept that man putting his hands on his little girl.

He reaches the spot his daughter was, but of course no one is there. After looking around, he spots Micah standing near the river on the outskirts of camp. Good, it will make cleaning up his corpse easier.

As Arthur stomps over to him, Micah turns around and gives him a cocky grin. “Morgan, what are y-” He’s interrupted by Arthur’s fist slamming into his face, breaking his nose. As Micah buckles down, clutching his bleeding nose, Arthur grabs his shoulders and thrusts his knee into his gut.

“You put your filthy hands on my daughter!” Arthur roars as he continues to beat Micah to a pulp. Micah tries to fight him off, but he’d been caught off guard by Arthur’s ferocity.

“I didn’t do nothing to your daughter!” he howls as Arthur kicks him. “She’s lying!”

“Bullshit! You been harassing her for days!”

Arthur kicks and punches him a few more times before he straightens up and pulls out his revolver, standing over Micah. The man below him puts up his hands, trying to make Arthur see reason.

“You ain’t gonna kill me, Morgan. You can’t. Dutch would… would never allow it.” He spits blood from his mouth.

“Oh Dutch ain’t got nothin’ to do with this, you creepy bastard. No one touches my daughter and gets away with it.”

Micah tries to chuckle. “Dutch ain’t gonna like you shooting someone in camp.”

Arthur smirks at him and puts his revolver back. “Oh I wasn’t plannin’ on shootin’ ya, Micah. Just wanted to see you squirm. Nah, you ain’t worth wastin’ a bullet on. But don’t mean I ain’t gonna kill ya.”

Arthur kicks Micah again to keep him on the ground, then he kneels onto his chest and wraps his hands around Micah’s throat. Arthur rarely likes watching people die, he hates seeing their blood on his hands. But Micah is different. Micah personally wronged him and his family. He will not tolerate anyone touching the most precious thing in his life.

After a few moments, Micah finally lies still and Arthur releases his grip on him. Arthur stares into his glassy eyes. “That’s for my daughter, you son of a bitch.” He then drags the body into the river, not wanting it to be seen anymore.

As he walks back into camp, massaging his tired fingers, your daughter breaks out of your grasp and runs over to him, burying herself into his chest as his arms wrap around her.

“Papa,” she sniffles into his shirt.

“You’re okay, pumpkin. That bastard ain’t gonna bother you anymore.” He knows, as he holds onto his daughter, that he will have to go and explain things to Dutch. He’ll do that later though. All he wants to do is take care of his child. You can’t help but smile. Arthur doesn’t usually cuddle with you in camp, mostly in thanks to the teasing from other people saying he’s a big softy, but he’s never pulled back from cuddling with his girl. He’s proud to show people how much he loves her. You walk over and wrap your arms around her as well, pinning her between you and Arthur. One of his hands slides over your side, showing you how much he cares about his family.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur as a dad #red dead fanfic #awkward asks

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regrettablewritings · 3 years

Text

@locke-writes my love

ithasbeenalongassfewdaysandiamjustnowgettingtothissosorryiamtwash 💖 💖 💖

DJ x Reader Ship Meme

But fuck that guy :U

jfdjfdkjf i just appreciate how we all came together, took one look at this bastard who was in a film for a collective maybe 10 minutes maximum and decided that whatever material that shitty-ass getup of his was made from, we were going to make it boyfriend material one way or another

Though the fact that barely anybody writes for him or searches for him anymore indicates one of two possibilities: Either we are the strong who persevere even though he really doesn’t deserve it, or we are like raccoons digging in the trash and clinging on to this “neutral”, dirty bastard.

Foggy x Reader Ship Meme

We promote Foggy supremacy in this house. Sorry, Matt, but I’m not sorry.

Foggy is charming as FUCK and yeah, his realism can make him seem like a stick-in-the-mud between Karen and Matt, but there’s a reason his ass ain’t back-flipping around Hell’s Kitchen: It’s just not safe or sensible! Foggy is the grounding force of a group, and I think that’s something we don’t really appreciate enough because we’re so wrapped up in witnessing adventure that we don’t always recognize the importance of stability -- especially in the MCU or wherever the Netflix series are supposed to take place.

Pwease, somebody, give Foggy all the bagels and ice cweams. He stays put like a good boy and actually makes it on time to date night. 🥺

Poe Dameron x Reader Ship Meme

. . . You’re not wrong, but hey!

Though to be fair, I think if the two of you were hiking through an area he knew based on previous explorations or information contained potentially threatening or nuisance flora, he’d be a bit more vigilant. However, the less of it there is, the more excitable he becomes -- which can easily distract him into slipping up and finding whatever the SW equivalent of poison oak is.

Nevada Ramirez x Reader Ship Meme

You are literally that meme of Ralph Wiggum going, “I’m in danger! 😀”

Nevada is just cussing and being kinda arrogant for a manlet and being aggressive and also eating. Lots of eating.

. . . You never considered the potential there is between the metaphor of Nevada being a feral/aggressive dog, turned guard dog to the one soul that tolerated him but also wouldn’t tolerate his bullshit? Of Nevada being the abominable Tarasque, reincarnated into the form of a man thousands of miles away, devouring souls in an endless fit of hunger until the hand of St. Martha quells him? . . . That sounds so nice and pure, teach me your ways and please free me --

Nevada: is 5′9″ and thus far taller than I Me: Fuckin shortass angry king, prolly needs a telephone book on his throne seat --

Nevada is not in the preference I’m referring to, unfortunately, but currently, as it stands, Dewey is at least??

Look, all I’m saying is that Nevada Ramirez’s silver palate does not extend to his taste in television. He’s very impatient and even though I can imagine him being a man of taste when it comes to food, I can’t really see him enjoying shows that require too much thinking or inside knowledge. He might be into Game of Thrones because haha tiddies and sex an’ shit, but I feel like the novelty would wear off relatively fast and he’d hop off early on. Apparently a bullet was dodged. Nah, he does enough thinking in his day-to-day, he believes. It just feels nice to turn off your brain and watch dumb, rich assholes proceed to be stupid, or hot, young twenty-somethings act like it’s the end of the world because someone they’ve only known for three days in close proximity decided not to continue sharing a bed with them. “People are dying, Kim,” Nevada says. “Because of me. I’m dying them. Count your blessings and suck it up instead of crying that you don’t get to suck him off.”

Okay so you’ve just tickled a fun fact out of me. My dad is a teacher and for years, he’s often been surrounded by women teachers. He recently revealed to me that at one point, he had free bells at the same time certain networks would broadcast soap operas his coworkers at the time followed, so the arrangement made was that he’d watch the episodes they would miss, write down info, and relay the plot back to them so they’d be caught up. I think they actually paid him. And if you knew my dad, you would find this startling because he’s such an intimating, manly type of guy at first glance? But hey, I cannot disrespect the hustle. Anywho, I feel like before streaming got big, Nevada would pay cronies to watch episodes of his telenovelas for him if he couldn’t be there to watch them himself. I really doubt dealers and gangsters have punch clocks or anything, but I feel like Nevada had a system in place where he’d know not to call, like, Luis or Rico at such-a-such-o-clock because that’s when Tierra de Pasiones would be on.

Bruh, I was searching for examples of telenovelas and like...Telenovelas just do not last long at all 😂😂 Granted, you can probably say that about a lot of shows, but the amount of telenovelas I looked at that never made it beyond one season is just tragic, yo.

Steve Harrington x Reader Ship Meme

Steve is a bit of a butt monkey to the point I theorize it’s his survival tactic. I mean, why my boy gotta keep losin’? He’s such an adorable goof! An uncreative goof if left to his own devices, but he means no harm by it!

For making a date night happen in a place like Hawkins, I think he deserves extra credit. Of course, this could just be me saying this from the stance of a person spoiled by the options provided in the 21st century compared to the 80s, but . . . Give him extra credit anyway, he deserves it for just being cute.

#blarghhhh #writing this after a long shift so i'm all over the plaaacceee

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captawesomesauce · 3 years

Text

Thoughts at 130am...

Docs appt went ok today... he wants a fuck ton of blood work... cause of course he does...

Guess what he ain’t getting?

Yeah, i’ve had my shots but... no... it’s not worth the risk right now. (more on that in a bit)

The biggest news is that I’m me. I’m so me. I’m 100% fucking me.

What I mean by that is that I, like always, am not tolerating my medication, and so I now have to wean my ass off of it. Say good by to the awful Topamax that gave me so many damn side effects, but was keeping my brain pressure in check.

The one that broke the camels back? Kidney stones.

Apparently having 3 was just 3 too many and so they’re yanking it.

We’re gonna increase some of my other meds that I do seem to be tolerating, but that and the Diamox were the best ones for the IIH’s brain pressure and I can’t handle either one.

The good news is that i’m going to be PEEING LIKE CRAZY from now on. So I have that to look forward to. Yay.

-----

In other news 3 more friends have COVID, and 1 family member. 2 are symptomatic in a serious way. They were in contact with someone for just a brief moment, as that person dropped something off at their house, but hey, that’s all it takes. Now the husband is struggling to breathe and is in a ton of pain, she’s really not doing too good either, both in their late 30s ... reasonably fit wildland firefighters.

My niece has it too. She was dumb about it though, and never took it seriously.

-------

I’ve already had a collapsed lung, I’ve already got a brain disorder, I’ve already got issues with my nerves. I’m already suffering and I don’t have a great immune system... yeah I have been double P-shotted... but it ain’t 100% and studies show if your immune system isn’t robust, it’s much less. So for me, I’m double masking and staying the fuck at home...

Frankly, I’m just so burnt out over covid at this point that i just want it to run rampant, but only selectively, and wipe out everyone who refuses to social distance and mask up, and just leave the rest of us to figure out what the new normal will be that respects the virus, and each other.

Lock all the anti-vaxxers in a room without ventilation and give them all polio, mumps, measels, covid, and whatever... and don’t let them out. Call it a Q party freedom bubble or some shit and just let them all stay inside and rot to death.

..... living through history is exhausting.

#thoughts #health #iih #personal

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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

Note

What's the heroes' morning routine to start their day before going to work? Or their night routine before they're going to sleep? (And here is sprinkle of positivity vibes for you today: 😊😉👌💕💞💗💓💝💝💖💖🌟✨🍀🍀🍀🍀💐💐 Have a nice day! ❤)

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️❤️ sorry this took me so long to get to, hope you’re still around!

Tornado of Terror: I’ve said in a previous hc that she sleep-levitates and wakes up in the weirdest places. So, she’d probably spend 10 straight minutes prying herself out of her bathtub or some shit with hella cramps. After that, she’d spam Fubuki over text message, asking her how to make a cup of coffee for the 57th time, then manage to burn it anyway, and finally go to work salty as fuck.

Silverfang: Wakes up at the crack of dawn, mediates next to a waterfall or some shit, broods over Garou, and makes himself a nice breakfast with a cup of tea. After that, he drags Charanko’s ass up the mountain to do some training, meditate some more, drink more tea, and around then it’s gonna be like 9 AM, so he’d probably just go the fuck back to sleep for a quick nap before actually going to work. Look, he’s old. Let him vibe.

Atomic Samurai: Also wakes the fuck up at the crack of dawn and proceeds to freeload a breakfast off of Iaian, wash it down with some alcohol at 6 in the AM, and complain about the weather. Then, he’d probably run over some sorta training routine with his disciples before doing group meditation and finally, finish it off with another drink. His tolerance is so damn high at this point. He shows up to work while pretending he wasn’t ten seconds away from getting wasted that morning.

Child Emperor: Wakes up rather early (if he even slept at all), runs diagnostics on all of his machinery, does tests on his latest weapons, takes 7 decontamination showers, and then makes himself a hearty breakfast consisting of Froot Loops and choccy milk. He shows up to work early and energized, running solely on his 87th lollipop and the single shot of espresso he had that morning. If it’s a weekday, he’d wait off on going to Association headquarters and teach a few classes at the local university instead. He’d then go to work in the middle of the day, grading papers and dying internally at the dumb shit his students say. He keeps a mental tally of how many people forget to write their names on their assignments. He’s suffering.

Metal Knight: Upon slapping the shit out of his alarm clock, he rolls out of bed and commands one of his bitchbots to make a Michelin-Star quality breakfast for him, then proceeds to stalk to the bathroom. He doesn’t shave or shower. He just takes a 45-minute shit because he’s forced himself to go to the bathroom once a day to “save time” when it, in fact, does not save time. After that, he takes a decontamination shower before entering his lab (also another 45 minutes because he’d spend the whole time je— nevermind) and doesn’t show up to work at all because he’s a little bitchboy hellbent on building Skynet in his mom’s basement.

King: Wakes up, cries, plays video games, cries some more, eats some cereal, takes a shower, cries, calls Saitama over, plays video games, Saitama leaves, cries. Then, he’ll show up to work for a single meeting at 4 PM just so everyone knows he isn’t dead, have an anxiety attack, go home, and then cry (while having another anxiety attack). After that, he’ll play video games until 3 AM. Rinse and repeat.

Zombieman: He’ll wake up at 3 AM and then sarcastically open his blinds like “oh wow, what a beautiful morning”. He’ll make himself a hearty breakfast consisting of leftovers, some protein pills, and half a pack of cigarettes. Next, he’ll shower, shave, and do some routine vigilante detective work out in the town before coming back home just as the sun is beginning to rise. After that, he’ll take a thirty second nap and walk his ass to work (because his car has been in the shop for like, seven years) so he can vibe for 3 hours before throwing in the towel and isolating himself for the remainder 18 hours of the day because depression.

Drive Knight: he sleeps plugged into the wall like a Samsung. Either that, or he’s solar-powered.... or maybe he runs on AAAs. I don’t know, but his ass ain’t waking up like everyone else. He’d power on, do some routine checkups on his laboratory or whatever the fuck he’s got going on, and then show up to work for 3 seconds only to dip the fuck back out and go poach some endangered monster species for his collection or some shit. Look, he’s a robot.

Pig God: wakes up at 10 AM like a king and eats a small breakfast consisting of three rotisserie chickens, a whole pot of rice, 57 eggs, and a cool glass of milk (because calcium is important, kids). He’d spend 4 hours on the internet before he gets hungry and decides to go outside, stopping to casually devour an entire species of demon-threat monsters in the middle of the street while simultaneously traumatizing every single child living in a 3-mile radius in the process of doing so. After that, he’d do some hero work for like 30 minutes (and somehow eat like, 200 living things in that timeframe), go back home, and then indulge himself in a 17-hour food coma. He’s earned it.

Superalloy Darkshine: Homie wakes up at 5 AM, works out for two hours, takes a shower, and eats a breakfast big enough to feed a small family of 19. After terrorizing every health expert in the country with his buckwild diet (ironic considering Pig God exists), he hits up his bro Tanktop Master for another 2-hour workout. He then proceeds to take 3 seconds getting dressed in his hero uniform because it’s literally just a thong, and goes to work for a full 8 hours because he’s a good boi who takes his job seriously and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. :)

Watchdog Man: wakes up, pisses on a fire hydrant, eats dog kibble, sits on his pedestal in city Q, and then gets dressed.

Flashy Flash: wakes up in a forest somewhere because he’s probably homeless. The local birds flock around him and sing a morning song. He feeds a baby deer like a Disney princess. Then, he bathes in a waterfall and spends two hours doing his hair. After that, he buys himself a fucking bagel and takes his ass to work smelling like the inside of a Cabella’s. He vibes at HQ for like, 30 minutes, before traveling 500 miles away on his 57th quest for revenge and ends up breaking a record for “most homicides committed by a hero” on the way there.

Genos: wakes up, makes breakfast for Saitama, takes a shower, and spends half an hour doing chores while Saitama bums around with a yolk stain on his pajamas. Then, he’d hit up the professor for any news about upgrades, and go on about his day handing out justice as he sees fit until Saitama suddenly gets the urge to go buy some cabbage. It’ll be another 2 hours of walking around the inside of a grocery store while holding 2 grams of food (because it’s all Saitama could afford, broke ass) before he actually goes to hero HQ for a single meeting (while Saitama tags along), and then slaughter 87 monsters on his way home.

Metal Bat: wakes up at 6 AM because it takes him 8 years to do his hair. He’d wake up Zenko about an hour later and tell her to get ready for school while he hauls ass downstairs to make breakfast (burnt toast and 8 Flinstone vitamins). They walk to Zenko’s school together. He takes ten minutes to shower her with love, and then he turns back around to walk to his own school only to show up like, 45-minutes late to his first class. He only attends hero meetings on weekends because A. Homework and B. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to juggle official hero business and school in the same day (unless it consists of a monster/criminal [or 12] in need of a beating).

Tanktop Master: same as Superalloy. He wakes up at dawn, works out, eats enough to feed a small army, and then calls his actual army over for a meeting. He and the gang discuss ways to better represent the Tanktop ideology over tea, while also sharing workout tips and just having a good time together in general. Around then it’ll probably be 8 or 9 AM, so he’d join Superalloy at Hero HQ and do hero work for the rest of the day alongside his homies. He’s living the life, honestly.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: he’s in prison so he’d wake up at 8 AM on the clock every day, eat his nasty-ass breakfast (although, I’ve said in a previous headcanon that he gets special meals prepared for him on account of being a literal superhero, but I digress), and then he works out in the courtyard for a good hour before going to work in the cafeteria for 3 bucks a day (or the yen equivalent). During visiting hours, he and his boyfriend are inseparable. They’d make some crafts together, gossip, and just hang out. If there’s a threat in the area, Puri will waste no time busting himself out and hugging that shit to death. A true icon.

Amai Mask: he either wakes up at 10 AM or 2 PM every day, there’s no in-between. He’d spend his morning doing every self-care routine under the sun: taking a warm bath, doing a face mask, eating a good breakfast (prepared by his own personal chef, of course), listening to an audio book, you name it. If he has a concert that night, he’d spend the entire day surrounded by people as he gets ready/rehearses/prepares. If not, he’ll just patrol the streets, handing out autographs and some slices of justice. He wouldn’t really show up to any meetings or do official hero business at HQ unless he’s in the mood to cuss out Sekingar and Sitch over some stupid shit or insert himself in S-Class business.

Iaian: wakes up earlier than any of the other disciples and Atomic Samurai because he’s like, responsible or whatever. He meditates, showers, does his own personal routine, and then kicks everyone out of bed for breakfast like an angry suburban mom. After that, he’d participate in everyone’s routine training, and then take his ass to work while showing up to every meeting at HQ (sometimes tagging along with Kami) because he’s a good boi and he has no problem engaging in business. :)

Okamaitachi: She sometimes wakes up with Iaian, but sleeps in most of the time because she needs her beauty rest, obviously. After breakfast and participating in everyone’s training routine, she’d do her hair/makeup and go do her own hero work the majority of the time. She’d sometimes tag along with Iaian, but she prefers to go on her own every so often. If she has some extra time before breakfast, she’ll also do a face mask or catch up on her favorite soap operas.

Bushidrill: this motherfucker sleeps like a log and Iaian wants to kill him for it. He wakes up like, 2 seconds before breakfast and hasn’t shaven in a month. Still, somehow, he manages to get ready in time for training without Kami trying to assault him for being a doofus.

Fubuki: She wakes up hella early and texts her herd of hooligans the daily plan before dealing with Tatsumaki’s shit over the phone. Then, she showers, does her hair, and takes fifteen minutes to get her makeup done right. It doesn’t take her long to plan out her outfit because she has like, 87 black dresses. After an actual hearty breakfast (unlike the rest of these clowns) that she makes herself, she meets up with the blizzard group to discuss business and engage in hero work together as a ✨team✨. She never gets asked to participate in official business by HQ because Tatsumaki strictly forbids it.

Saitama: he brushes his hair and sits on his ass all day.

Mumen Rider: wakes up at dawn, feeds the cats outside, eats a good-ass breakfast (despite being poor, because he’s actually really good at budgeting), and goes out for a nice, morning patrol. He’ll also call his mom and make sure she’s having a good time because that’s important. If it’s not a busy day, he’ll go to the gym and treat himself to some time at the park afterwards. If there’s monsters all about, he’ll spend the rest of the day in the hospital after getting his shit rocked for the 300th time that week. They’ve basically got a bed reserved for him at this point. He’s so pure but so, so selfless. And a little dumb. But mostly selfless.

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shadow0asylum · 3 years

Text

It’s more than tired. I never recovered. Past trauma is making me crazy eyed. I can’t even push forward anymore and start over.

Calling me names and mental illness’s just make me numb. it has no effect anymore. You were comfy is what happened, you got mad when I decided to not take your crap anymore. You knew what it was like before you came here. You insecure pos! Acting petty for a reaction. Take your miserable 2 face elsewhere. I do not want you back in my home. I will not tolerate disrespect or your non existient parenting skills. You don’t have a right to parent my child when you lost yours on a account of your mouth. I told you I didn’t need your help parenting, I got mine. You overstepped too many times. I refuse to allow your hobo ass back. You were fine because you settled then all of sudden when you get called out its this and that and not good enough for you. boy please!

yeah you got your feelings hurt when i told you i wasn’t going to put up with it. i trusted you until i didn’t. if someone tells you something personal, don’t be petty and throw it back in their faces or tell people what you trusted with them. you trying to make it everybody else’s business but yours. Take accountability!

All of sudden “I’m Crazy, I’m Bi Polar, I’m pressed about the neighbors” Bitch no I ain’t. You’re just petty and emotionally immature! You were trying new romantically games, wtf does that even mean?! You were trying something out, boy, ain’t nobody got time for games or stupidity! I knew you were fake thats why i wasn’t buying it. and you “just wanted to see me smile?! wtf be your genuine self and cut the bullshit! oh wait that was your genuine self, how pathetic.

You just use people to have something to do and not be bored. How bout keep a job for once?! quit flip flopping cause you don’t even know what face you want to be that day. You’re only nice to people when you can get something out of them or its a fucking game to you. That’s exactly why you will never be happy and that’s not my problem.

You can tell them I’m bi polar, crazy, used you, i don’t care, atleast I don’t have to waste my time and energy on you anymore. I told you multiple times do not go outside all fucking night to smoke, the door wakes me up, you coughing all night because you went out all night to smoke your drugs, you’re disturbing us and you don’t care and guess what you thought you were just going to keep doing it and i would get over me. nah you got me fucked up! i already told you not to bring your habits to my house. boundary after fucking boundary you broke. how long did you think this was going to continue.

you didn’t want me to break up with you over the phone but in person so you could show your ass huh, thats what it really was. “i don’t deserve to be treated like this” what like held accountable for your actions???

everyday i remember some dumb shit you said to me and i might not of realized it at the moment but i do now. i’m way better off without you, i asked you multiple times if you would cut the grass because i wasn’t comfortable with the weedeater, i asked you multiple times to handle something because i was about to lose my shit and it didn’t matter to you, because i never mattered to you. i knew i couldn’t count on you for anything, that only solidifys it all. The older they get the dumber they get. some people just don’t mature, just don’t have compassion for others. they think they can get away with the bare minimum.

I do believe I’m gonna personally take the years I need to heal this time. The grass does look greener sometimes but when you’re up close to it, its really not.

#narcisstist #hometryingtostealass #disrespectful

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ambivalentman · 3 years

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THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY (1998)

In 2019, Peter Farrelly crossed the Dolby Theater stage at the 91st Academy Awards to proudly accept three Oscars, including Best Picture, for his drama Green Book. For any director, these Oscars would be a crowning achievement. To Farrelly, this was also an induction into the Hollywood fraternity—that rarefied group from whom he and his brother, Bobby, had long stood apart. The Farrelly brothers had at one time been maverick comedy filmmakers whose brand was just the right combination of offensive humor and heart. As Farrelly raised his Oscars for the crowd, he was no longer the goofy outsider who directed gross comedies. He was an important filmmaker.

Be that as it may, Green Book—despite the awards coronation—was every bit the offensive relative to Peter’s work with Bobby. The film had generated tons of criticism for its handling of race, leaning heavily on cultural stereotypes for its humor and pathos, and presented a morally superior view of white privilege while possibly misrepresenting the only nuanced Black character in the film. These criticisms dominated the Monday Morning Oscar Quarterbacking on podcasts and Twitter threads, putting just a little bit of tarnish on the filmmaker’s new trophies.

Criticism and controversy are not new to either Peter or Bobby Farrelly. Since their directorial debut in 1994 with Dumb & Dumber, they have walked the tightrope of all offensive comedians. As Roger Ebert said about them, their movies are “crude, vulgar, cruel, insensitive, scatological, perverse, and politically incorrect.” Gene Siskel made sure he added “gross and raunchy” to that list. They meant this as a compliment. People died watching Jeff Daniels experience exploding diarrhea in Dumb & Dumber, Woody Harrelson share a post-coital cig with his grotesque landlord in Kingpin, and Jason Alexander wag his tail in Shallow Hal. Few would call any of their oeuvre particularly deep—and should probably laugh at the pretense of referring to their filmography as an oeuvre.

The most controversial, and arguably most popular, film of the Farrelly’s career is 1998’s There’s Something About Mary. This one focuses on a generic loser named Ted (Ben Stiller), who holds a flame for his teenage crush, Mary (Cameron Diaz). Because Ted believes Mary may hold the key to his happiness, he hires a private dick named Healy (Matt Dillon) to find out where she is. Healy falls under Mary’s spell and leverages his influence to keep Ted away. As played by Diaz, Mary is a “smart girl who has a lot going for her”; however, Mary isn’t particularly observant and awfully naïve. Every man she encounters falls for her, and she has a litany of stalkers who will do anything to possess her.

Based on description alone, There’s Something About Mary presents as a harmless rom-com, but the Farrelly’s bring their edgy style to the film. This movie is packed with indecent images. Ted’s “Franks N’ Beans.” Mary’s “hair gel.” The fish hook. Magda’s makeout session with her dog, Puffy. Woogie’s face. The gross stuff is what it is, but the material that sticks are the stalking and how the depiction of Down’s Syndrome impacted perception of those with mental handicaps. Reviewing this film through the lens of 2021 causes even more cringing than it did in 1998.

You could tell that even in 1998 there was a narrative building around this movie. In a press interview, Ben Stiller said, “I wouldn’t necessarily associate this film with deep social commentary. I think it’s a sweet movie that you can go out and laugh at.” Diaz added, “With this film, I know that [the Farrelly Brothers] wanted to have characters—people—that were important to the audience. They wanted a love story that people could really get involved with, as well as have the comedy.” She also said more recently in 2018, “Peter and Bobby have such heart in all of their movies. No matter how shocking the comedy is, there is so much that is inherently good about the story and the characters that really appeals to people and it makes the laughter at the jokes a little more forgivable.”

From the get-go, everyone on the project knew somethings were going to be potentially problematic. Studio brass expressed some concern over the decision to make an R-rated comedy. The PG-13 rating had squeezed out the R-rated comedy to the point that very few were being made. Movies like Friday (1995), Flirting with Disaster (1996), Private Parts (1997) and The Big Lebowski (1998) all had pretty limited audiences. No one was convinced an adult comedy could even make a buck, let alone entertain. Besides, the Farrelly’s previous film, Kingpin (1996), had bombed, so could they even be the duo to make a lucrative R-rated comedy.

On the set, there were concerns, too. Diaz worried about whether the infamous “hair gel” scene was a bridge too far, and might possibly be the ruin of her rising career. During the scene where Puffy falls out a window, Bobby Farrelly needed to get the right reaction from Diaz and co-star Lin Shaye, so he dropped his pants and wiggled his ass. It wasn’t the first time the director had done this, either on or off set. According to Peter, Bobby liked doing this; it would one day get him in some trouble. And the production was surprised when Plantation City Hall, whose veneer was redressed to become the exterior of Ted and Mary’s high school, asked to have their name removed from the film’s credits because they didn’t want to be associated with anything “lewd and offensive.” The studio was also worried about the decision to include a close up of Ted’s “franks n’ beans” after he catches them in his zipper. That shot was got by creating a 4’x2’ prop, and inserted just in case it needed to be cut out of the film. Fox chairman, Peter Chernin, after seeing a test screening, told the Farrelly’s, “It’s perfectly reprehensible; don’t touch a thing.”

There were also questions about the portrayal of Warren, Mary’s brother, who has Down’s Syndrome. Peter Farrelly said, “Whenever you did [write disabled characters] back then, it seems the studio was, ‘No, no, no! People are uncomfortable’ [with disabilities]. And I’m like, ‘No, they’re not. That’s bull. People have disabilities, so let’s see them.” Warren was based on a next-door neighbor of the Farrelly’s to whom the family was close. The young man is also cast in the film as one of Mary’s students. It also seems casting may have been one way to circumvent controversy surrounding Warren. Initially, it looked like the part would go to Chris Farley, who was hot at that time for his work on Saturday Night Live. However, Farley’s energy may have contributed to seeing Warren as a caricature, so the production went with W. Earl Brown. Brown wanted to play Warren as a real person, not a cartoon. He said in a 2018 interview with Variety, “I just feel instinctively, ‘If you goof this, if you play it broad and you try to be funny, it ain’t going to be funny. The audience is going to hate you because you are mocking somebody with a handicap,’” This didn’t stop anyone from seeing the film as a possible Pandora’s box of disabled stereotypes and disparagement humor.

The other controversy surrounding this movie has become more pronounced in the social media age. Does There’s Something About Mary normalize sexual predation and stalking? Critic Rachel Verona Cote said, “Humor that takes stalking seriously requires nimbleness and nuance that the Farrelly brothers lack; instead, they trade in crude jokes underpinned by the structurally misogynist ‘boys will be boys’ mythos.” There may be something to this criticism. In 2016, a University of Michigan research study, entitled “I Did It Because I Never Stopped Loving You,” found that women are often more tolerant of aggressive male behavior because of the normalizing of such behavior in romantic comedies. There’s Something About Mary was one of the films cited in the report, which suggested that the film’s excusal of male aggression supported “stalking myths,” which were defined as “false or exaggerated beliefs about stalking that minimize its seriousness.” Findings like these also support research that has been going on since Harriet Martineau began pioneering the field of gender conflict. The Martineau Theory suggested that exposure to disparaging humor towards a particular group often has the result of inducing tolerance towards prejudice directed at that group. Martineau’s work focused on gender theory, but could just as easily be applied to any group.

Obviously, there is no truly right or wrong answer in regards to There’s Something About Mary, but as you watch the film, it seems a new lens may need to be applied. Even as we laugh at the cringeworthy humor of the Farrelly Brothers, what is their target? What behaviors are they excusing? Ben Stiller suggested there was no deeper political meaning to the film, but does that deeper meaning have to be intended to be valid? As There’s Something About Mary nears its 25th anniversary, we now look at it with more nuance, also with the realization that Peter Farrelly’s Oscar victories for Green Book suggest his once outsider take on comedy and culture is now firmly at the center.

#There's Something About Mary #Peter Farrelly #Bobby Farrelly #Farrelly Brothers #Cameron Diaz #Matt Dillon #Ben Stiller #Lin Shaye #Comedy #Romantic Comedy #Offensive Comedy #Green Book

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ashis2gay4u · 5 years

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Heroes Of Olympus Heathers! AU

Here's the character list, in case people get confused:

Veronica: Percy Jackson

JD: Nico di Angelo

Martha D: Annabeth Chase

Heather C: Nancy Bobofit

Heather M: Silena Beauregard

Heather D: Drew Tanaka

Ram S: Luke Castellan

Kurt K: Octavian Augur

Big Bud Dean: Hades di Angelo

Veronica's Mom: Sally Jackson

Veronica's Dad: Poseidon Jackson

Kurt and Ram's Dad's: Hermes Castellan / Jeremy Augur

Ms. Fleming: Hecate Hearths

Principal Gowan: Zeus Skyson

'[text]' signifies what Percy is writing in his journal.

Now, on to the story!!

Percy Jackson stepped into the high-school, taking a deep breath as he tightened his grip on his open journal and pen. Another first day at Hell.

A boy bumped into him, one of the jocks.

Percy froze, and glared at him, "Hey, don't be a dick-"

The jock laughed, "What did you just say to me, bitch?" he asked.

"N-nothing," Percy replied, inching away, realizing who he was.

"That's what I thought, wimp," he said, smirking. His best friend walked up to them, and pushed Percy into a locker.

'Introducing Octavian Augur, the lead quarterback of the football team, and his best friend Luke Castellan, the captain.'

'Octavian allows his dick to lead him everywhere, and has a sense of cruelty regarding everybody. He's also the smartest guy on the football team, which is like being the tallest dwarf. Luke is charming, but is obsessed with being known. He did everything and anything to make sure people knew where he stood, and who he was.'

"What you got there, sissy? A diary?" Luke laughed, pointing at it.

"What a fag," Octavian added, knocking it out of his hands.

Percy watched in distaste as the two high-fived, and went to pick up his journal, only to find his best friend Annabeth Chase standing there, holding it out to him.

"Here you go, Seaweed Brain," she said, smiling.

Percy smiled back, taking the journal from her and cradling it against his chest, "Thanks, Wise Girl."

"No problem, Perce."

"Another year of Hell, and then University or College. Did you get your applications replied to yet?" Percy asked, opening his journal to continue his entry.

"Yep, all of them."

"You sent out ten, how in-"

"You must forget why you call me 'Wise Girl', Seaweed Brain," she teased, laughing as he blushed. "What about you?"

"Nothing. I sent out five, and no reply from anywhere. I'm doomed if I can't get into New Rome University, it's where Uncle Neptune and Dad went and they're both top-notch marine biologists."

Annabeth hummed, staring off into the distance. He followed her gaze, and found them both staring at Luke's ass.

"Annabeth-"

"I know, I know... But he has to still love me, I know he does..."

Percy was about to speak up, when people started clearing out the hallway. He quickly pulled Annabeth aside, and watched as the "Heathers" walked by.

They aren't all named Heather, but they definitely fit the trope in their own way; gorgeous, dumb, and cruel.

The first Heather stepped out, brushing her long, claw shaped, hot pink nails through her hair. She wore her usual emerald green outfit as she strutted down the hall, winking at the popular boys and sneering at the geeks and rebels.

'Introducing Drew Tanaka, the "Beauty Queen". Bulimic, narcissistic, and obsessed with sex. Has a mean streak a mile wide.'

Percy didn't like her at all.

The second Heather stepped out, giggling as she stared at her phone, probably texting her boyfriend. She wore her usual yellow attire, which she somehow managed to pull off despite her black hair and crystal blue eyes.

'Silena Beauregard, the "dumb" one. She was sweet and kinder than the other two, but she got picked on for it often by her two best friends.'

Percy liked Silena, they used to be friends when they were younger, but then high school came and they stopped talking. He's sure she doesn't even know his name anymore.

The final Heather stepped out, donning her blood red clothes and scrunchie. She walked to the front of the group, seeming unimpressed with her friends.

'And last but not least, Nancy Bobofit, the queen fuckin' bee...'

Percy paused in his writings, before smirking.

'She is a mythic bitch.'

People started whispering about them, saying how they'd wish they were nicer, how pretty they were, how sitting at their table even once grants immunity, etc.

One guy made a creepy comment about a basement, nudity, a camera, and rats, but he chose to ignore it for his own sanity.

He watched as they went into one of the few non-gendered washrooms, fitted with three toilets, three stalled urinals, and three sinks each.

He suddenly felt the urge to pee, and after giving Annabeth a look of "wish me luck" he followed them in, heading into the first stall he saw.

Toilet, dammit all.

He could hear Drew puking in the stall next to his, and he cringed inwardly as Nancy said, "Pull it together, Drew. Bulimia is so last year."

"Yeah, Drew, maybe you should see a doctor," Silena added helpfully in a softer tone.

"Maybe you're right, Silena, I should."

The door opened, and the voice of Hecate Hearths, the student counselor, rang out into the room.

"Ah, Nancy, Silena..." She paused as she heard Drew puking again, "...And of course, Drew. Didn't you hear the bell? You're all late for class."

Percy quickly set to work in his journal, a plan forming in his head.

"Drew isn't feeling well, we're helping her," Nancy said sweetly. Her voice made Percy's blood boil, but he knew he couldn't back out now that the note was finished.

"Actually, Miss Hearths, I have the hall pass right here!" Percy said, flushing and stepping out of the stall.

Drew was now standing next to her friends, and the three of them stared at Percy in shock and awe.

Miss Hearth checked the note, and nodded. "Alright, but get back to class soon!"

As soon as she was gone, Percy found himself cornered by the three girls.

"Who are you?" Nancy demanded, glaring at him.

"P-Percy Jackson."

"Why would you do that?" Drew questioned next, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I want immunity," he blurted, "If you let me sit at your table just once, no talking necessary, people will think you at least tolerate me and leave me alone."

Nancy laughed, "Seriously?"

"I also do report cards and late slips!" he added.

"What about prescriptions?" Drew asked curiously.

"Drew!"

"Sorry, Nancy."

Nancy grabbed his chin, squishing his cheeks, and moved his face side to side, "For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure..."

"And a symmetrical face!" Silena said excitedly, "If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have two matching halves. Very important!"

"Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds," Drew said, smirking at him.

"You know, this could be beautiful... Some eyeliner, maybe some light eye-shadow and mascara, and we're on our way. Silena, get this boy some blush, and Drew I need your brush. Let's make him beautiful~"

"Let's make him beautiful!" the other two repeated, doing as they were told.

"Okay?" Nancy asked sweetly as she sat him on the counter of the sink.

"Okay!" Percy said excitedly.

Percy was nervous as they all stepped out of the bathroom during second period, his face all made up with a blue-green eye shadow, black eyeliner, red blush, and mascara. His hair was somehow tamed due to Nancy's harsh brushing.

People turned to look at the four of them, and once again, the halls erupted into whispers.

"Who's that guy?"

"Who's the sexy dude?"

"Who is he?"

Nancy smirked and pushed him to the forefront, and Percy gasped as he turned to see Annabeth staring at him, "Percy...?"

"Percy."

"Percy?"

"Percy!"

Everybody started fawning over him, and his face lit up like a lighthouse on the shore at night, "Fuck yes!"

Nancy smirked, turning to the other girls. She nodded her chin at Annabeth, who was staring at Percy with a look of shock.

"Let's see how much of a man he really is," she whispered.

Drew and Silena nodded, giggling.

"No, no way!" Percy said, "It'll crush her!"

Nancy's smile faded to a snarl, "Are we gonna have a problem here?" she snapped, glaring him down.

He gulped, backing away.

"You've got a bone to pick?" she advanced, backing him up against the lockers. Drew and Silena moved to block his only two exits.

"You've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick? I'd normally slap your face off, and everybody here could watch~" she purred, smirking.

Percy suddenly became aware of everybody watching the scene in silence, and he felt his body begin to tremble in fear.

Drew snatched the note from his hand and headed towards Luke.

He barely managed to get it back from her, but he gripped it like a lifeline as Nancy snapped her head in his direction.

"Well, I'm feeling nice, so here's some advice, listen up, bitch."

Silena, in all her pure glory, began to speak, Drew following her lead.

"I like!" They managed to say it in sync, which scared Percy half to death.

"Lookin' hot, buying stuff they cannot~" Nancy sang, her voice much more attractive than her face.

"I like!"

"Drinking hard, maxing dad's credit card~"

"I like!"

"Skippin' gym, scaring her-" she turned and smirked towards Annabeth, causing Percy's blood to run like ice through his veins, "-screwing him~" she then pointed at Octavian, who waved.

"I like!"

"Killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!"

He scrambled back as her leg swung up inches away from his face.

It's official, he's died and gone to Hell.

"If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let your mommy fix you a snack!" Nancy snapped, advancing again, "Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in my Porsche with the quarterback!"

"Honey what you waiting for?" Silena asked, managing to slip the note from his grip.

He reached out for it, only to have Drew block his way, "Step into my candy store!"

"You just gotta prove you ain't a pussy, anymore!" Nancy said, motioning to Silena, who had already delivered the note.

"And step into our candy store~" the three said, smirking.

"Percy, Percy look! Luke just invited me to his homecoming party! This proves he's been thinking about me!" Annabeth said, rushing over, the note in hand.

"Color me stoked," Percy said nervously, feeling extremely guilty at the excited look on her face.

"I'm so happy!" she said, seeming on the verge of tears.

"Yeah..." he said, forcing a smile.

"McDonald's has always been my place to go, always. No matter where we move, it's always right there!" Nico di Angelo said with a small smile.

Percy laughed, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he payed for the coffees, "Yeah, but it'll make you fat."

"Not if you work out daily, it doesn't," Nico insisted, "Come on, do I look fat to you?"

Percy, in all his idiocy, made the mistake of eyeing him up and down, hoping Nico didn't notice how his eyes lingered on his lips.

Blushing, he said, "No, you don't."

"Exactly."

"PERCY! WHERE IS MY COFFEE?"

"C-coming!"

"You have some... Interesting choice in friends."

"Yeah, I hate them, but I need them."

"Why?"

Percy said nothing, merely walked out.

That question is what was brought to the forefront of his mind as Nancy stood before him, hands on her hips.

"Nobody will talk to you, touch you, or even look at you! You don't get to be a nobody, you get to be dead to everybody!" she screeched, causing his ears to hurt.

Silena giggled, "I know who I'm sitting with at lunch on Monday."

Drew smirked, "Do you, big boy~?"

Percy turned to look at the others at the party, but everybody was turned away.

"I-"

"Come Monday morning... Percy stew will be on the menu~" Nancy purred with a smirk akin to that of a wolves before it tore out the jugular of it's prey.

He fled the party, tears in his eyes.

"P-Percy, what are you doing in my room?"

Percy took a deep breath as he stared at the other boy, before smirking, all of his uneasiness fading away as he stepped away from the window.

"I'm sorry, but I really had to wake you."

"W-why?"

Percy's smirk evolved into a huge grin, his cheeks flushing a dark red, "You see... I decided I must ride you 'til I break you~"

"W-what-"

"Nancy says I got to go, you're my last meal on Death Row," he purred, moving to straddle the younger boy, "So shut your stupid mouth, and lose those boxers~"

Nico's face went bright red, and he pulled Percy down for a kiss.

The rest of the night went even better then Percy had hoped it would.

"She's dead! Fuck! I just killed my best friend-"

"Percy, calm down, love," Nico cooed, cupping the older boy's face.

"W-we need to call 911-"

"-and get ourselves arrested for murder?" Nico questioned, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" Percy shouted, on the verge of a panic attack.

"Suicide note," Nico said, standing up and grabbing a pen and paper. "Write."

"Hey, Dad!" Hades di Angelo said, smiling at his son.

Nico rolled his eyes, his grip around Percy's shoulder getting tighter, "Hey, son."

"How was work?" Hades asked, before changing his voice, "Oh! It was crazy! They wouldn't let me blow it up, but I did it anyways!"

"That's great, son."

"Thanks, Dad," Hades finally noticed Percy, who smiled weakly and waved shyly, "Hey, Dad, meet my new girlfriend!" he added in a poor imitation of Nico's voice.

"Dad, this is Percy. Percy, this is.. My dad."

"Hello, Percy."

"Hi, Hades..."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Hades asked.

"Oh, no... My mom is making my favorite for dinner, fried salmon. With lots of ah... Salt."

"Oh, that's funny, isn't it dad? The last time I saw mom, she was waving out of a building you blew up seconds later."

"Yes, son," Hades said darkly, "Yes, it was."

"Uhm... I'm gonna go..."

"Drew! Silena! Open the door!"

"On no, oh no!" Drew laughed, locking the doors.

Silena gave him an apologetic glance, "No, no... No."

"You make our balls so blue~" Luke sang drunkenly.

"They're hanging sadly~" Octavian added.

Percy ran off, tears in his eyes and a burning rage in the pit of his stomach..

"Sword fight, eh?" Drew purred, the red scrunchie in her hair standing out against the green outfit she wore.

"What?" Percy questioned, staring at her deadpan.

"The sword fight in your mouth, idiot," Drew snarled.

"What? When-"

"Last night, yeah! Turns out the pretty girl was Percy Jackson dressed in drag!" a kid said from a few meters away.

'What?'

"Oh, everybody is talking about last night, Percy~"

"You bitch-"

"Apparently not like you, mutt. Go slobber on some more cock, eh?"

"Sword fight, eh?"

"Nico, I-"

"I know, Sea Prince, I know. Come on, we'll make 'em pay~"

Nico smirked as he loaded up his gun, "Not real, just tranquilizers. My grandpa Kronos brought them back from World War two."

"Well... Okay. What do we do though?"

"Plant a note saying they killed themselves for being gay for each other."

"Hah! Brilliant!"

"Mmhmm, they made you cry, so now they'll pay. They'll wake up as laughingstocks."

"I love you," Percy said, kissing Nico.

He hummed against Percy's lips, "Our love is God, baby."

"We love our dead gay sons, whether they were pansies or not!" Hermes Castellan and Jeremy Augur said at the funeral, just before Luke's poor mother broke down in tears.

"My son!" she wailed, "My beautiful, beautiful son!"

"You're a fucking psychopath! Get the hint, Nico!"

"But, Babe, our love is God~"

"Then God is dead!" Percy screamed, glaring daggers at the other.

He stormed off, ignoring Nico's call of, "You'll be back, sure as day turns into night! Nothing can break our bond!"

Silena clung to him, gripping his t-shirt so tightly he was scared her nails would cut into his skin through the fabric.

"I stand in a boat... On a raging black ocean, low in the water, and nowhere to go... The loneliest lifeboat, filled with people I know..."

"I know, Silena, but don't worry, we'll make it to shore someday..."

"Percy, please, talk to us son!" Poseidon Jackson cried, waving the book Moby Dick around.

"Your problems seem like life and death," Sally Jackson added, staring at her son with tears in her eyes, "But believe me, they aren't!"

"You don't know what my life is like!" Percy screamed back.

"Yo, boy, keep it together~" Nancy purred in his ear.

"You've burned that red scrunchie, come join us in Hell!" Octavian and Luke said in unison.

"Somebody's here for you~" Nancy said, smirking.

Percy's eyes widened, and he rushed upstairs.

"Don't make me come in there, Percy."

"Go away! I'll scream, and Mom'll call the cops!"

"Don't you want to make s'mores with me? We can smile and cuddle while their screams burn out! Ha! Get it, burn out?"

Percy knew he had only minutes to figure out how to get away, when he spotted the bed sheets.

'He wants suicide so badly? I'll give him one he didn't plan...'

"Percy, open the door! Open the door right now!" Nico snapped, brandishing his gun.

Silence.

"Don't make me come in there!"

Silence.

"On the count of three!"

Silence.

"One!"

Silence.

"Two- Fuck it!"

He kicked in the door, and froze at what he saw.

"No... Percy, why...?" Nico whispered brokenly, dropping to his knees. "You were all I could trust... Please don't leave me alone..."

The hanging body said nothing, merely swung back and forth.

"I can't do this alone," Nico sobbed, yanking at his hair. He suddenly got a crazy look on his face, onyx eyes wide and crazed, his grin so wide it could split his face in half, "Still, I will if I must!

He climbed back out the window, laughing.

"Percy?" Sally questioned, "I brought you a snack, blue cookies-"

She saw him there, hanging in the closet, and screamed.

His eyes opened.

"Drop the bomb."

Nico chuckled, "Oh, this little thing? I'd barely call this a bomb..." Percy gaped as the smile on Nico's face stretched, a crazed look in his eyes. “This is merely to trigger the packs of thermals upstairs in the gym, now those are bombs!”

Percy knew he didn’t stand much of a chance against Nico, but he also knew he had to try.

Nobody was going to hurt his friends anymore.

"I'm a fucking dead boy walking, and you're going down with me!" Percy shouted, tackling Nico to the floor.

Nico laughed, "I knew that noose was too loose!"

The gun went skidding far off, and as Percy was just about to reach it, Nico pinned him to the ground, smiling at him crazily. "I don't think so~!"

Just as his hands clasped around Percy's neck, a gunshot rang off.

Percy gave a sob as Nico spat up some blood, his beautiful onyx eyes wide in shock.

And then the unexpected happened.

Nico kissed him, sweet and gentle, before standing up and grabbing the bomb.

"I.. Am damaged. Far too damaged," Nico said softly.

Percy merely stared at him, not knowing where this was going.

"But you... You are not beyond repair," he added, looking up at him with a sad smile. He pressed the button on the bomb, the one to set it off.

"Wait-"

"Stick around a little longer, make things better, it's too late for me."

"Please, no!"

"You beat me fair and square..."

"Nico-"

"Please, stand back now, I'm not quite sure what this thing will do... I don't want my Sea Prince getting hurt," the younger replied, motioning with his hand for Percy to back up.

Percy took ten steps back, eyes wide in horror as the timer clicked down.

10.

"A little further..."

Percy took a dozen more steps back, full-on sobbing by this point.

"Our love is God, baby," Nico said with certainty.

"...Say hi to God."

"You look like Hell," Drew said with a sneer.

"I just got back," Percy replied, walking up to her.

"Hey-! What're you-"

In one swift motion, he kissed her cheek, yanking the red scrunchie from her hair.

"No more. War is over. We're all damaged, we're all broken up and hurt, but that's okay! We'll heal, all of us! If nobody loves us now, someday, somebody will."

Drew put a hand to her cheek, blushing as she glared, "You stupid-"

"Shut up, Drew," Silena said, "Percy's right."

Percy smiled at her, and she smiled back at him softly.

He turned to Annabeth, who was sat in her wheelchair, "Annabeth, are you free tonight...? I was thinking, maybe, we could hang out..? Rent a movie, something with a happy ending..?"

"Are there any happy endings...?" Annabeth asked softly.

"Maybe not now, but someday there will be," he said confidently.

She smiled, throwing her arms open.

He eagerly obliged, hugging her tightly.

"For now, let's party!" A kid yelled.

For the first time since he first became a "Heather", Percy felt happy, and free.

{La Fin}

~Ashton Bende

#percyjackson #heathers!au #nico di angelo #percico #nicercy #blb #trigger warnings #character death #heathers

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cuthian · 4 years

Text

Chances

That's all she wrote!

The next part will be a bigger work, taking place during canon-The Winter Soldier era.

Thanks to Juulna for putting up with me :D

Lots of Love, Annaelle

Chances

The One Where the Avengers Throw Becca & Steve a Party

“Anytime That We Step Out Boldly to Make Changes, We Take a Chance That We Might Fail. But the Only Way to Get Better Is to Try.”

—Joyce Meyer

The Whip & Fiddle, London, UK

November 5th, 1943

He hadn’t had much time to himself after he’d returned to the camp with Bucky and four hundred other former prisoners of war in tow. He’d not expected such avid responses from his superiors, and he had most definitely not expected to be patted on the back.

Peggy Carter had sat in on many of the meetings as their official MI6-liaison, and it had comforted Steve a little to see a familiar, semi-friendly face.

She, at least, had understood he could not stay put while Bucky’s life was in danger.

If only Bucky had felt the same way.

“What the ever-lovin’ fuck were you thinkin’, you reckless piece of shit?” Bucky’d shouted at him the very second he’d gotten Steve alone, shoving at his shoulder roughly, hard enough to make Steve bump back against the dirty brick wall in the back alley of the Whip & Fiddle, where Steve’s newly minted team had been trying to drink each other under the table.

Steve had not been turned on.

He hadn’t been.

(He so had been).

“I had to,” Steve’d tried, biting his lower lip lightly. “Buck, they said you were dead, and if you weren’t yet, you were gonna be! I couldn’t sit and do nothin’.” He had known he could get away with a lot when he’d looked at Bucky like that, and given that this was the first time he and Bucky had been semi-alone since Steve had pulled him off a metal table in a factory in Austria, there were things Steve would much rather have been doing than being yelled at.

“That’s exactly what you shoulda done, you dumb fuckin’ punk!” Bucky had hollered. “You coulda died! I coulda already been dead—you would have been dead for nothin’, Steve, damn it!”

“It wouldn’t have been for nothin’,” Steve had snapped, shoving back against Bucky for the first time. “If you’d been dead—I ain’t doin’ this without you, Buck. I can’t.” He had seen the fear burning in Bucky’s eyes and he’d known, he’d understood—because it was what Steve had felt the day Bucky had come home with a 1A, the day he’d had to watch Bucky leave for England without him, the moment Peggy had casually mentioned the 107th’s fate. “End of the line together, Buck.”

“Stevie,” Bucky had sighed, softening immediately, reaching out to him. Steve’d wanted to maintain the distance for a second longer, had wanted to resist, because he had still been angry at Bucky for yelling, but he’d always been weak for Bucky looking at him like that.

When Bucky had pressed his palm to Steve’s cheek, Steve had melted into the touch, swaying towards Bucky almost subconsciously, slipping his arms around Bucky’s neck as the other man had slipped his around Steve’s waist, pressing their bodies close together in a way they hadn’t been able to in months—since before Bucky had left for basic at Camp McCoy.

He’d rested his forehead against Bucky’s—briefly disoriented to find that he could reach—and had exhaled shakily. “I got you, babydoll,” Bucky had whispered, rubbing his hands over the length of Steve’s back, like Steve was still five-foot-nothing and able to curl up in Bucky’s arms like he belonged there.

Steve had let out another shuddering breath and had pressed into Bucky’s embrace as much as he had been able to, relishing in the short moment they’d been allowed before the war would demand their attention again. “I was so scared,” he’d admitted in a rush, tightening his arms around Bucky. “When they said—and then I couldn’t—I was so scared, Buck.”

“Shhh,” Bucky’d whispered, leaning forward to press a flurry of soft, small kisses to Steve’s cheeks, nose, and lips. “I’m here, sweetheart. You got me out. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Steve had leaned into the kisses, allowing Bucky to soothe the frantic energy within him.

He’d never liked being vulnerable—never liked been seen as weak—but he’d never quite minded as much when it had been Bucky seeing him like this. He’d trusted Bucky enough to show him this part of himself, knowing the other man wouldn’t mock him for needing the reassurance. Steve had even admitted, only in the privacy of his own mind, that he’d liked it when Bucky guided him with a firm hand, when Bucky had shoved him around a little when they were getting really into it.

“Buck,” he’d murmured, looking up at the other man from beneath his lashes. “I’m sorry.” For not telling you. For making you worry. For everything that happened. For not coming to rescue you sooner.

He hadn’t finished the sentence, but he hadn’t really needed to.

Bucky had shaken his head and smiled wryly. “Don’t you go blamin’ yourself for things that ain’t your fault, Rogers. Your shoulders may be bigger,” Bucky had smirked and patted a hand on aforementioned shoulders, “but you still ain’t gotta take the weight of the world on ‘em.”

Steve’s cheeks had flushed and he ducked his head bashfully.

He had been worried, about what his best guy would say about his brand-fucking-new body, but it had seemed Bucky was just as appreciative as everyone else Steve had met so far. It had been both satisfying and exceptionally debilitating to his already fragile self-image. Had Bucky lied, when he’d said he’d loved Steve’s old body? Had he lied when he’d reassured Steve that he didn’t needsomeone who was bigger, and stronger, and healthier?

“Don’t think I can’t see you overthinking,” Bucky had chided, stepping even closer to flick at Steve’s forehead. Steve had not yelped, though he had to admit Bucky’s methods of distraction were solid. Steve had been, once again, fully focused on Bucky. “Wha’s going on in that pretty blond head of yours, Stevie?”

“Nuthin’,” Steve had lied through his teeth, averting his eyes from Bucky’s knowing gaze—he’d forgotten just how well Bucky knew how to read him and he’d been tired of it already.

“Awe, c’mon, doll,” Bucky had cajoled, pushing towards Steve again, jolting his hip against Steve’s and grinning innocently at him when Steve had halfheartedly glared at him. “Don’t be like that. You gotta tell me what you’re thinkin’, baby, or I can’t make it better.”

Steve hadn’t said anything—mostly because he hadn’t been sure how to say it without sounding ridiculous, ‘cause he’d known that Bucky had loved him when he was smaller, and that he probably would now too—and stubbornly stared at his feet. He hadn’t fought it, though, when Bucky had snuck an arm around his waist and patted his other hand on Steve’s chest.

“Is it all this?” Bucky had questioned softly, tapping his fingers over Steve’s heart delicately before he’d slipped them down his stomach to rest on Steve’s waistband. “You afraid I was gonna be sore at ya?”

“Maybe,” Steve’d huffed when Bucky had tugged on his waistband, silently demanding an answer.

“Only reason I’m sore at ya is ‘cause you keep puttin’ your dumb ass in danger,” Bucky had insisted. “Especially when I ain’t there to watch your six.”

Steve had huffed, but had leaned into Bucky’s touch when the other man dragged him closer. He’d been without Bucky for far too long to risk spurning his advances now. Who knew when they’d next get the chance to sneak off together? “’s different though,” he’d murmured, ducking to bury his face against Bucky’s neck, slipping his arms around the other man’s waist to hug him close. “I’m different.”

He could almost feel Bucky’s quiet revelation before he’d even said anything. “Oh. Oh, babydoll, is that what you thought?” Steve had barely suppressed the urge to whine when Bucky had pushed him back a little so he could look at him.

Barely.

He hadn’t been sure what expression was on his face, but it seemed Bucky had gathered what he needed to know from his expression anyway, because he’d frowned, shaking his head sadly. “Stevie, c’mon. You know I’m sweet on ya, right?” Steve had pouted a little, but leaned into Bucky’s hand when he tracked his fingers through Steve’s previously neatly-combed hair.

“I know,” he’d finally sighed, leaning in to rub his nose against Bucky’s, to breathe him in, to feel him. “But it’s real different. I wouldn’t—”

“Hey,” Bucky had interrupted. “I love the shit outta ya, Rogers. Big, small, sick, or healthy… End of the line, remember? And we ain’t there yet.” He’d grabbed Steve’s chin and forced Steve to look at him, to see the serious look in his eye, and smiled a little. “Okay?”

Steve had smiled, a little relieved, and had nodded as much as Bucky’s grip on his chin allowed. “Okay,” he’d said. “Okay.” Bucky had grinned and rewarded him with a small, quick kiss, before jerking his chin back towards the pub. “We should go check on the boys, get ‘em to the barracks. You got an early day tomorrow, Captain.”

Steve had shivered at the way Bucky’s eyes had darkened, heat pooling low in his belly. “Yeah.” He’d let Bucky pull him forward, back towards the raucous crowd spilling out of the pub. “Okay.”

——————

Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York City, U.S.A. March 23rd, 2012

Steve

Steve settled back into Tony’s comfortable sofa cushions, more relaxed and—dare he say—happy than he had been in a very, very long time. The increased frequency of his therapy sessions with Karen-the-therapist—with the noted addition of Karim-the-grief-counselor, and Alicia-the-VA-counselor—had done wonders for his state of mind, and had, eventually, helped him learn to tolerate, if not appreciate, the second chance at life that he had been given.

He’d not been able to, for a while, hadn’t been able to see past all the things he had lost.

It hadn’t been until Peggy and Gabe and Dum Dum had come to see him—barging into his apartment with all the bluster and noise of that unruly gang of twenty-year-olds that he remembered, not the ninety-year-olds that they now were—and quite literally slapped him up the head that he’d remembered that he’d gained things too, in this century.

It’d been Peggy’s idea, initially, to work with several therapists, each with a different specialization, to help Steve acclimate and deal with things on several levels.

Steve had not protested.

He had learned long ago that his life was much easier when he didn’t put up a fight and just did as Peggy said.

Indeed, when he had finished sobbing on Peggy’s perfectly-pressed blouse, she had lectured him very sternly, and Steve had been forced to listen, if only because he was afraid Dum Dum would try to make good on his threat to come sit on him and break a hip trying to get out of his wheelchair.

He’d cherished seeing his friends—his team—again, and learned to appreciate the frequent phone calls which followed their visit, because Dum Dum was still Dum Dum, even if he was ninety and had a whole army of grandchildren now, and Gabe was still Gabe, even though he had somehow married Bucky’s littlest sister, moved to France, and had a whole brood of kids with her—just another link tying them together, one of many.

Peggy was still as strong and competent and beautiful as Steve had remembered her, and it’d helped to see her, even when he had been afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

But he had.

And so he’d done as Peggy said, and he’d asked Karen-the-therapist for references, and asked her for help, because he couldn’t do it on his own, and he needed to admit that too.

And he did get better.

He’d picked up a paintbrush again, and filled several canvases and sketchbooks with old memories, and several more with new ones. He’d started running every morning, and picked up the sparring sessions with Peggy’s niece and her infuriating boyfriend again, and when Fury asked him to accept a provisional job as an independent advisor for S.H.I.E.L.D., Steve said yes.

Steve found he liked the independence his position gave him within S.H.I.E.L.D., without taking away from his authority when he was asked to step in on a mission. He liked being able to do something, to help, even if help didn’t always look the way Steve would like it to.

He got to work closely with Sharon Carter’s boyfriend sometimes—Brock was head of the STRIKE team that Steve got assigned to most often—and he found that, though the man was annoying and cocky as hell in his personal life, Steve could appreciate his competence and utter professionalism while they were on the job.

He worked with Becca very rarely, which wasn’t much of a surprise, considering his own, relatively high position in the chain of command, and her relatively low one. The times they did work together showed that they made an excellent team though, and when Natasha was added to the mix, they were so frighteningly competent it baffled even Steve himself.

That in itself had been a bit of a surprise to Steve—Becca had refused to speak to Natasha for a solid three weeks before she initiated contact again, and even then his roommate had been careful to keep her contact with Natasha strictly professional. Steve hadn’t blamed her; Natasha had broken her heart, after all, in a pretty shitty way.

Steve had been very upset with Nat too, although he’d been forced to give her at least a little bit of a break when Clint pointed out that Nat felt like utter shit about what had happened, and was doing her best to make up for it—albeit in a clumsy, slightly awkward way.

Despite Becca’s resolve to forgive Natasha, it had taken her a bit of time to be okay with even being in the same room as the other woman; especially when Clint had admitted he really would like to try dating Nat, if Becca was okay with him giving it a shot. Clint had been furious too, but—for reasons Steve didn’t even pretend to understand—he’d taken much less time to cool down than Becca had.

Becca had, naturally, not responded to the news of Clint and Nat dating as well as she probably could have, which led to Steve finding Maria Hill in their kitchen in her underwear at four A.M. at least twice, and one incredibly awkward elevator ride down to the lobby in the morning, where Becca had made sure to kiss Maria in full view of an equally flabbergasted and infuriated Natasha.

Steve was pretty sure Maria knew exactly what was going on and let it happen anyway.

So, when Nat had been assigned to a mission together with him and Becca, Steve had expected… issues, to say the least. In the end though, they’d gotten their mission accomplished in half the estimated time range, and it was such a resounding success that Steve was almost sure Fury might have smiled.

Their raging success was also why they had all descended on the common floor of the Tower—Steve and Becca would be relocating to Washington D.C. for an unspecified period of time, and Tony had insisted that it was the perfect reason to throw them a going-away party, as though he wouldn’t just fly over and break into their new, S.H.I.E.L.D.-approved house whenever he missed them.

Not, of course, that Tony would ever admit to that out loud.

“It’s a trick,” Clint insisted, breaking Steve from his reverie and waving his hand towards the hammer Thor had plonked down on the coffee table before they’d started drinking. Steve grinned broadly and leaned back into the couch, letting the conversation wash over him.

All of the Avengers were sprawled across Tony’s excessively expensive furniture on the common floor, in various stages of inebriation, and Steve had had enough of Thor’s Asgardian mead to feel warm and tingly, with the room going just the right kind of fuzzy around the edges.

Becca was sprawled on her back on one of the sofas, bare feet deposited on Thor’s lap and her high heels abandoned on the floor, while her head rested on Nat’s lap. The redhead had looked at Becca with an exasperated fondness when the brunette gracelessly sprawled across her and Thor, but Steve caught the indulgent smile she and Thor exchanged too.

It was one of the first times since Nat had unceremoniously chosen Clint over Becca after their brief fling that the two women looked anywhere remotely comfortable around each other, and Steve was glad to see it, even if most of it was likely due to lowered inhibitions due to excessive consumption of alcohol.

Steve also hadn’t missed the contemplative looks Thor tended to give Becca lately, coupled with what Steve was mostly certain was Thor’s version of starry-eyed affection.

He’d been spending more time at Steve and Becca’s newly renovated Brooklyn apartment than he had on his own floor in the Tower or Asgard, and Steve really wondered when one of those two morons would pull their heads out of their asses and make a move. Admittedly, he just really wanted Becca to smile again, and to stop moping over the—granted, really shitty—way Nat had dumped her, and he missed the carefree way Thor used to smile, before he’d lost…

Well, before he’d lost everything he’d held most dear.

Steve didn’t doubt that Thor loved Asgard, his father, and his friends, but he knew that none of them could ever come close to the kind of affection a mother inspired, and that no one would ever be able to replace Loki in Thor’s heart.

For a very short while, Steve had thought that maybe Thor would let himself seek comfort in Jane Foster, but he found out pretty quickly that he’d turned her down before anything ever really happened.

It seemed they’d managed to build a pretty solid friendship despite the initial awkwardness, along with a man named Selvig and someone Thor referred to as Lady Darcy.

Afterwards, however, Thor hadn’t really spent time with anyone but him, Becca, and the other Avengers.

Steve was sure Becca and Thor would be good for each other though, if they ever got over themselves and actually tried.

Of course, when Steve had brought it up with Thor, he’d bashfully tried to deny being interested at all, which was a lot more telling than admitting it would have been.

Thor never avoided questions about those he found himself attracted to.

It hadn’t happened often since Loki’s passing, but it had happened, and Steve wasn’t imagining the way Thor would gravitate towards Becca when she entered a room, or the way she blushed when she caught him looking at her, or even the—far from—subtle touches after battle under the guise of checking each other for injuries that might have gone unnoticed.

He couldn’t deny that the latter was effective though.

Thor, apparently, had a pain tolerance so high he hardly even noticed when he did contract injuries.

Steve was abruptly torn from his thoughts when Tony booed loudly from his spot on the couch, where he was curled up with Rhodey, fingers linked together. Pepper sat cross-legged on the floor before them, discussing something or the other with Bruce with a very serious expression on her face.

Steve could probably concentrate to listen and figure out what they were talking about, but he was warm and comfortable and Steve wanted to melt.

Thor chuckled in response to Clint’s indignant squawking and shook his head lightly. “Oh no, I assure you, its magic is much more than a simple trick.”

His words were met with mostly incoherent protests—they had been drinking for a while—and Becca’s poorly aimed kicks towards his stomach, which he easily contained with one hand. “Please,” he laughed, gesturing towards the hammer with his free hand, keeping Becca’s feet trapped with the other.

“Be my guest.”

The atmosphere in the room changed almost immediately from one of lazy comfort to one of eager anticipation, and Steve noticed that even Bruce and Pepper—and Jane, who was hanging out with them for the first time and had joined their discussion sometime in the last three minutes—looked between Thor and Clint curiously.

“Really?” Clint bounced upright and grinned brightly, seemingly unhindered by his slight inability to walk straight as he positively floated towards the table and the hammer.

“Yes.” Thor smirked as Tony booed at Clint and flapped his hand in Rhodey’s face to make sure he was watching too. Steve rolled his eyes a little at their antics, and he couldn’t help but grin when Becca grumbled at Thor while using his bicep to try to sit up straight.

It didn’t look like the most successful endeavor.

“Screw you, Odinson,” Becca huffed, drawing herself off the couch—moving remarkably steadily—until she collapsed half on top of and half next to Steve. “They’re stupid,” she told him seriously, pupils dilated a little and her breath smelling like the half a dozen glasses of wine she’d already had.

“They really are,” Steve chuckled, rolling his head a little to look at Becca, who seemed entirely content to use him as her newest body pillow. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it or didn’t like it—Becca was very tactile with her friends, and they almost always inevitably ended up in a cuddle pile when they tried to watch movies on the couch.

“You okay?” he asked softly, deliberately ignoring the shitshow going on beside him as Clint tried, in vain, to pull a highly uncooperative Mjölnir from the table. He’d seen Becca really drunk enough times to know when she was playing it up a little, so people wouldn’t pay as much attention to her.

Becca blinked blankly at him for a couple of seconds before she sighed and dropped her forehead to rest against his shoulder. “Yeah,” she nodded against him. “Tired of Nat looking at me like I’m going to break every time I see her with Clint.”

Steve winced a little, because he couldn’t exactly deny that.

For all that Nat could probably have gone about picking between Clint and Becca in a better way, she was uncomfortably aware of the fact that she had hurt Becca while doing so, at least.

They were torn from their soft conversation by a pillow thrown in their direction, followed by Tony’s outcry of, “Pay attention, you lovebirds! Interesting things going on here!” Before either Steve or Becca could say anything, Pepper slapped Tony’s knee and Clint and Nat booed at him in perfect unison, but the implication was there, again, and Steve’s cheeks were so hot, he was pretty sure he was on fire.

He hated that people assumed he and Becca were sleeping together just because they were of opposite genders and really close. He hated it more when it was the Avengers implying it, even though he knew that they knew it wasn’t like that.

They did, and that’s what made it worse.

“Right,” Becca nodded seriously, raising an eyebrow at Clint in challenge. “Were you done trying and failing to establish your dominance?”

Steve burst into laughter at the indignant look on Clint’s face, and the rest of the group followed swiftly, Tony gasping, “Smell the silent judgement, Barton?” between hysteric peals of laughter.

“Oh, please,” Clint exclaimed heatedly, waving his arms towards the group vaguely. “I’d like to see you knuckleheads try to do it!”

“I’ll take that bet!” Tony shouted immediately, springing up from the sofa probably a little too energetically, narrowly avoiding tripping over Pepper as he stepped forward towards the table. Steve watched, amused, as Tony—clearly more intoxicated than he’d probably prefer to show—stumbled his way to the coffee table.

Rhodey facepalmed—Steve seriously loved that new word—as Clint laughed, leaning against Nat now, the redhead patting his head fondly as they watched Tony. “Here we go,” Nat hummed delightedly, eyeing Tony with a kind of predatory assessment that still threw Steve off sometimes.

“I’ve never been one to shrink from an honest challenge,” Tony boasted, coming to a stop before the hammer, looking down at it calculatingly before he looked at Thor. “It’s just physics,” he said firmly, ignoring Bruce’s snort at that. “So if I lift this… I then rule Asgard?”

Thor nodded, lips obviously pressed together to avoid laughing. “Yes, of course.”

Tony nodded primly and pointed one finger at Thor, squinting at him suspiciously. “I will be re-instituting Prima Nocta.” Behind him, Pepper coughed delicately and raised an eyebrow when Tony froze, and then slowly pivoted to look at her.

“Will you?” she asked pleasantly, leaning back against Rhodey a little.

Steve couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter at Tony’s wide-eyed expression. “No?” he backtracked, flapping his hands at Rhodey and Pepper uselessly. “I was just kidding?” The shrill question at the end really sold it.

Pepper rolled her eyes and smiled. “Go pick up the hammer, Tony.”

Tony saluted her sloppily, spinning on his heel and nearly face-planting onto the table. “Yes, ma’am,” he shot back cheekily, wrapping his hands around Mjölnir’s handle and grunting a little when he pulled. Mjölnir, predictably, remained on the coffee table. Steve chuckled at the look on Tony’s face when he failed to lift the hammer, but couldn’t say he was entirely surprised when Tony muttered, “I’ll be right back. No one try before I get back!” and ran off.

Becca huffed a laugh and sagged back against Steve a little, for all the world looking like she was close to falling asleep, but Steve knew she was really just settling into a prime position for people-watching. In this case, of course, that meant watching as Steve’s team made idiots of themselves trying to lift a hammer that was legendarily hard to lift.

Tony reappeared with one of his armored gauntlets, gleefully insisting it would help him lift the hammer.

Predictably, that did not work either.

Steve grinned along with Thor when Tony recruited Rhodey—though Steve had to admit the latter looked more reluctant than excited to aid Tony in his quest—with the Iron Patriot’s armored hand, and gratefully allowed Thor to fill up his glass again.

“Sláinte,” Steve said, lifting his glass towards him in thanks without dislodging Becca from his side.

The Irish Gaelic phrase still came to his lips as easily as the English toast would have, even though he hadn’t spoken more than a word of it here and there to anyone since his mother had passed. Bucky had only known a few words, at most, and he’d always been more drawn to the Yiddish words his own mother had taught him.

It was… comforting, to have someone like Thor here, who may not know Gaelic the way Steve did, but who understood when Steve spoke it nonetheless, who did not mind when Steve reverted to the comfort of his native tongue—he hadn’t even learned proper English until he was four and he met Bucky.

“Skål,” Thor replied enthusiastically, thrusting his glass forward so eagerly that some of the liquid sloshed over the edge. Steve didn’t miss the way Thor’s eyes strayed to Becca, who was still staring intently at Tony and Rhodey unsuccessfully trying to lift Mjölnir.

The others seemed to have lost interest in the two men—Pepper had returned to her conversation with Bruce and Jane—and Clint and Natasha were quietly talking, switching between sign language and spoken words fluently, like they’d been doing it for decades… which they probably had been.

Steve smiled a little and nudged Becca. “Thor’s looking at you,” he murmured, sipping casually at his drink when Becca stiffened a little, shooting a quick glance towards Thor before she settled back against Steve.

“So what?” she huffed semi-casually. Steve wasn’t really fooled at all.

“Becs,” he sighed, rubbing his hand over her shoulder comfortingly. “Come on. You can’t sulk about Nat forever. And Thor actually likesyou.”

“Not sulking,” Becca pouted. “It’s been like three months; I’m over it. And I’ve hooked up with… plenty of people. Doesn’t mean I should start hooking up with my friends too.” She sat up and glanced around with a slight frown. “I’ve slept with way too many people in this room as it is.”

Steve glanced around as well and frowned. “I thought you’d only slept with Tony and Nat?” he blurted, possibly slightly too loud, if the way Nat looked at them in confusion was any indication.

“Yeah,” Becca deadpanned. “Thanks, Steve, I know that.”

Her cheeks were flushed and she was a little hunched in on herself and Steve immediately felt like a fathead for pushing her. “Hey,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I just…” He shrugged helplessly and looked at her seriously. “I wanna see you smile again. I want you to be happy.” He nodded stealthily towards Thor, and Becca smiled weakly as Steve said, “I don’t know if seeing what could happen between you and him would make you happy, but…” he shrugged again and bit his lip. “Isn’t it at least worth considering?”

Becca looked at him, eyes wide and expression vulnerable, before Tony rudely interrupted by yelling, “Let’s go, Steve—your turn! No pressure!”

Steve groaned, thumping his head back on the couch. “I don’t wanna,” he whined, glaring at Tony playfully, pushing his lip out into a pout. “We’re comfortable here.”

“Nah,” Becca said, voice tight, but her smile deliberately exuberant. “Go lift the hammer. I’m gonna take a breather anyway.” She added deed to words as soon as she said it, pushing herself away from Steve without looking at him.

Something deep inside Steve’s chest twisted, and he felt like a heel for pushing the subject, even when she’d already given a pretty clear indication she didn’t want to talk about it. “Becs,” he pleaded, reaching for her wrist, careful to not exert too much pressure. She looked at him with that same devastating expression and smiled tightly, pulling her wrist from his grasp.

“I’m fine. Just need some fresh air.” She gestured to the others, who were watching their exchange with expressions ranging from interest—Natasha and Tony—to concern—Thor and Pepper and even Jane. “Go show off those biceps, Rogers.” She gave him an exaggerated wink—poorly concealing her sudden melancholy—before swiftly exiting the circle the couches and chairs made around the table and heading towards the balcony, only twelve feet away.

Steve stared after her for a second, the room entirely silent for a heartbeat before Thor shot to his feet, gesturing towards the balcony door less than subtly. “I also… I could do with a breath of fresh air. I’m afraid the mead has gone to my head.” Steve stared at him, painfully aware that Thor had probably heard everything Steve had said to Becca, painfully aware that he’d probably pushed them both into admitting something neither of them was ready for.

He watched through the glass door and wall as Thor stepped up to Becca awkwardly, and then Steve turned away abruptly when Thor moved even closer still.

“Well, that was awkward,” Tony exclaimed, throwing himself on the couch beside Rhodey and pulling Pepper up to snuggle against his other side. “Wonder what they’re talking about.”

“Nothing much, probably,” Steve deflected, stepping forward so he was blocking the other’s view of Becca and Thor. “So, I bet I can lift this thing.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed loudly amongst a chorus of ‘boos’ from the others. “You can’t.”

“Man, it’s rigged,” Clint said again. “Betcha only Thor can lift that thing ‘cause it needs his fingerprints or something.” Natasha didn’t say anything, just eyed him contemplatively, and Steve was almost sure she knew exactly what he was trying to do.

She didn’t call him out on it though, merely raised an eyebrow and smirked in that peculiar way of hers. “Well then, Rogers. Put your money where your mouth is.”

“I don’t know,” Steve drawled, grinning a little as he reached for the handle, looking up at Stark from beneath his lashes. “What do I get if I can do it?”

“Pfft,” Tony snorted. “Whatever the fuck you want. But,” he leaned forward eagerly. “If you can’t, you have to come to the next gala and perform the U.S.O. routine.” He waggled his eyebrows and added, “with the motorcycle and the girls—and the costumes! I’ll set it all up.” The others hooted, and normally, Steve would feel embarrassed by the mere mention of the goddamned U.S.O. tour, but he had an ace up his sleeve, and he wasn’t afraid to use it to keep the other Avengers’ eyes on him.

“Deal,” he smirked. “If I lift this, you do whatever I want. If I don’t, I’ll do the U.SO. routine. You sure you wanna do this, Tony?”

“Oh yeah,” Tony nodded eagerly, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “Bring it, Capsicle.”

Steve chuckled, tightened his grip on Mjölnir’s handle and grinned up at Tony. “You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that, Stark.” He gave Tony half a second to look smug, making sure to strain his muscles, to make it look like he wasn’t gonna be able to do it—and then lifted Mjölnir, flipping it over and catching it effortlessly.

Everyone gaped at him, and Steve smirked. “Didn’t see that coming, did ya?”

——————

Thor

He was, honestly, quite unsure of what he would say once he caught up to Lady Rebecca.

Thor had never been one for flowery words or grand speeches. Loki had always been the one to charm his way out of trouble simply by the virtue of being verbose, and while Thor missed Loki every single day, he felt Loki’s absence—and the absence of his silver tongue[MS1] —painfully in this moment.

Rebecca—Becca, he reminded himself—sat with her back towards the door, cross-legged on one of the raised ledges that looked out over the city, arms wrapped around her torso in a bid to ward of the chill of the evening breeze; or to shield herself from the emotional turmoil Steven’s words had stirred up inside of her.

Thor felt slightly shamed that he could not yet read his friend well enough to tell which it was.

He and Becca had spent much time together since he had absconded from Asgard and its painful memories and his father’s crushing expectations, and he liked to think they had built a solid friendship in that time, as he had with Steven. He had even, in his most private moments, allowed himself the illusion of finding comfort in her arms, though he knew the feeling would likely never be requited.

Rebecca, like Steven, seemed woefully loyal to whoever she gave her heart, whether said affection was returned or not.

“Are you alright?”

The words tumbled from his lips without permission, and for a moment he feared he’d startled her. When she turned and looked at him though, he could see the distinct lack of surprise in her expression, instead replaced with something that felt far more reminiscent of tired resignation.

It was, sadly, an expression not unfamiliar to him.

Many of those he held dearest to heart had leveled said expression at him in his not-inconsiderable lifespan, and he wondered if he should begin to take note of when such occurrences happened.

“I guess there’s no use in pretending you didn’t hear every word Steve said to me, right?” she said lowly, drawing her lower lip between her teeth, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. Her cheeks were still slightly rosy—from embarrassment or drink, he did not know—and Thor was sure she did not know how alluring she looked, because he knew she would never look at him like this on purpose.

If anything, he would say she had been going out of her way to appear less appealing, at times.

She confused him greatly.

“I suppose I could pretend,” he offered, smiling a little at her wry smile. “If it would help.”

Becca snorted and shook her head, long locks spilling forward across her shoulders as she shifted, turning around so she was facing him. Thor smiled helplessly and moved towards her, until he stood directly in front of her, knees pressed against the cold concrete of the ledge she sat on.

“Was he wrong?” she asked abruptly, cheeks darkening into a full blush as she averted her eyes.

Thor opened his mouth to respond—though he did not know if denial or confirmation would have fallen from his lips—but he found he did not know what to say. Steven, for all his virtues, seemed under the impression that Thor’s feelings for Becca ran a lot deeper than friendship and attraction, and Thor wasn’t sure that was the case.

He had never allowed himself to develop deeper feelings for anyone, and he did not think he could.

In that, at least, he and Steven stood united.

He had never truly understood Steven’s devotion to a dead man until he had lost Loki—until he was forced to face a future that looked radically different from the future he had always imagined he would have. He’d loved Loki, for all his faults, in every way he knew how, and he did not want to let go of that love, ever—nor did he think he was even capable of letting said love go.

“I don’t know,” he replied eventually, shooting for honesty, because Rebecca was his friend, and while he was not in love with her, he did care for her a great deal, as he did all his Midgardian friends. Perhaps a little more. “I do not think he was entirely right,” he admitted, “but he was not wrong.”

“What does that even mean?” Becca exclaimed, exasperation dripping from each word.

Thor smiled sadly and shrugged one shoulder. “I apologize. I know it doesn’t clarify anything, but…” He looked up at her and shook his head. “I’ve not found myself in this position before either.”

Becca didn’t say anything, but her raised eyebrow spoke volumes, and Thor smirked a little before he settled in to lean against the waist-high ledge next to her. “I’ve taken great care in ensuring I did not grow attached to my previous… entanglements. Should we act on any of our urges…” he grinned at her when she smacked his shoulder playfully.

“I already care about you,” he finally admitted. “I’ve no idea how to proceed, how to…”

He stopped abruptly when she lunged forward, curling her fingers around the back of his neck to smash their lips together in a breathless, messy kiss. She stole the breath from his lungs, and he barely had the opportunity to relish in the taste of her lips before she retreated, almost as abruptly as she had leapt forward, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, and lips decidedly redder than they had been.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, shaking her head a little, “I just thought—and you—I know we shouldn’t.”

Thor blinked at her, opening and closing his mouth several times before he actually managed to say something. Her fingers were still curled in the collar of his shirt, and she was still leaning against him, and the weight of her felt warm and comfortable and it was an exhilarating, unfamiliar feeling he was loath to let go of.

Thor decided that perhaps, it did not need to be so complicated at all.

Perhaps, what they were could be very simple indeed.

“Perhaps we should,” he murmured absently, finding that he could not tear his eyes from her full lips. “I cannot see fault in two friends finding comfort in each other’s arms.”

She gasped quietly when he leaned in again, but eagerly kissed him back when he pulled her into a second kiss, far deeper and hungrier than the first. It was easy, to lose himself in her eager touch and in the sensual slide of their lips, and easy to let her draw him closer. He curled his fingers in her hair and around her waist until they were pressed together entirely and so tightly he could not tell where she began and he ended.

Kissing Rebecca felt different than kissing anyone else had, and different than kissing Loki had, but it still felt like allowing the lightning that perpetually hummed beneath his skin to run free.

She moaned quietly against his lips, a deep, wanton sound that abruptly reminded him that they were still in plain view of the other Avengers, and that there would only be so long Steven could distract them before they got past their politeness and came looking.

Slowly and very, very reluctantly, he leaned back, barely able to hold back a groan when she refused to let him go, pressing her fingers against the back of his neck insistently and whining quietly when he persisted in breaking the kiss. “Hush, krúttið mitt,” he whispered warmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She quieted down, but remained pressed against him, having slipped from her cross-legged position to curl one leg around his. “We have to do that again,” she said, quite matter-of-factly.

He grinned, leaning in to press a single, lingering kiss to her lips before he disentangled their limbs. “Come,” he smiled, offering her his hand when she pouted. “They’ll miss us before long.” They did not speak more, but the restless ache inside his chest had been soothed, and when she slipped her slim fingers between his, the worry that he had somehow ruined their friendship dissipated.

He still could not help but smirk when he overheard her whisper ‘wow’ to Steve when they went back in. Said smirk only grew further when he heard his friend reply with a muttered ‘I know, right?’ Thor settled on the sofa again, smiling a little when Becca—who had resumed using Steven as a pillow—stretched to press her toes beneath his thigh.

Anthony sat with his lovers, Lady Pepper’s fingers tangled in his dark brown hair and Colonel Rhodes leaning back against his leg. Natasha had looked up at them with a contemplative expression when he and Rebecca re-entered from the balcony, and for a moment Thor feared she would say something, but the moment had passed, and she had returned her attention to Barton.

Bruce had engaged the Lady Jane in a spirited conversation, and Becca and Steve were quietly murmuring and giggling together, and for once, the ache in Thor’s chest receded, leaving a contented warmth in its absence.

He was, at least for now, at peace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the sequel HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #Stucky #Stucky fanfiction #Steve Rogers #Rebecca Barnes #thor #Lisa writes #my writing #avengers family

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dolansmith · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on the “Trisha Drama”

I’m going to preface this with my previous thoughts of both sides. I didn’t know who Trisha was until after I found out about the vlog squad about a year ago. I didn’t mind her, i thought she brought out an interesting perspective to the group. Then I thought she was literally off her rocker.

I loved the vlog squad bc I found them in a really difficult time in my life and they kept me from getting too deep into a depression. While I saw some of their mistakes, I saw the best in them all and hoped for change or at least some kind of accountability.

This is gonna be really long and idk if anyone is even gonna read this/care lol but Im just so frustrated with a lot of the people that are into the vs. Like after really looking into everything that happened, I felt kind of ashamed to be backing the vs bc they’re doing some fucked up stuff tbh.

So lets do a basic rundown of mistakes made.

Mistakes in their public relationship: -Trisha: made sexual jokes about jason’s friends, started arguments about her insecurities instead of starting a conversation. -Jason: made sexual jokes about girl’s a decade younger than trisha (and 2 and a half decades younger than him), would complain about having to go do things trisha liked doing and would pout the whole time (i.e. disneyland and a couple of the hamilton viewings), would egg on trishas insecurities, literally dumped her on a daily basis and call her crazy when she voiced said insecurities and then would basically get back together within an hour and practically give everyone whiplash, also talked about her weight and eating habits CONSTANTLY (fucking dick) -David: inputted himself in their relationship, recorded their fights and encouraged their toxic behavior to both his friends and his audience

Mistakes in the “official” breakup: -Trisha: talking about jason’s ex and kids, comparing david to ted bundy (a lil wild but tbh not that big of a deal bc no one actually believed thats what she meant but anyway), the brandon thing (we’ll come back to this) -Jason: continuing to make jokes about fucking a 19/20 year old despite his gf saying she didn’t like it, not putting an end to David “pressuring him” to making said jokes, the brandon thing -David: ignoring his “friend” when she said not to put something in his vlog, putting his image and career first

Mistakes after: -Trisha: constantly going on rants about david and Jason. -Jason: staying in contact with trisha secretly. (ill get back to this too) -David: putting his image above all else.

Now we’re going to get into some uncomfortable hot takes. I’m gonna get a whole lotta hate from stans but tbh idc anymore

The Brandon Thing (I’ve done some digging since her video exploding at Jeff):

-Brandon began a relationship with a high schooler. She was underage the first time they had sex. There’s receipts and timelines set up. I’d recommend Petty Paige’s Youtube video on it for specifics. -Lot’s of vs fans say she only brought it up when her and Jason ended so that meant she didn’t really care, but I’d like to point out that she has stated (on more than one occasion) that she voiced her thoughts on this multiple times to the group in Private and no one cared. Y’all are always going on about how she should say whatever she has to say in private but when she does and is ignored, what then? Just a thought. -Let’s also bring the rest of the vs up in this. How come none of them ever said anything? They’re the ones still out here tolerating him. Pretty hypocritical. I’m not gonna aim anything at the girls bc none of them have Brandon in their videos but the guys? Jeff, Jason, David, Todd and I think Scott too, have all had Brandon in at least one video. They’re out here talking shit about Trisha amongst each other but are friends with a predator? Lmao Okay, cool.

Jason Keeping in Contact for months:

-This was dumb. -As someone who has suffered from mental health issues and has been in a mental hospital and suffered from attachment AND abandonment issues, Trisha would’ve been better off had Jason ended things and kept them that way. Instead, he ended their public relationship and friendship. He kept her a secret from even his “friends” and then dragged on their “friendship” for months. For what? He should’ve just given her her things and closure and kept it pushing. -On that, why did he keep her belongings for so long and refuse to give it back until she said something public about it? He ignored her calls and texts about her very expensive things for weeks. Then she made a video calling him out on it, and she got her stuff back. -I’m seeing a pattern here, aren’t you?

The Jeff Thing (did some digging on him too...by digging i mean google):

-This one makes my blood boil for several reasons. ESPECIALLY AFTER TODAYS VIDEO. It rlly put everything into perspective omg. -The starbucks story that Trisha told was the same everywhere: ‘I saw Jeff at Starbucks and said hey. He ignored me and was such a pussy he left his order at the counter after having paid.’ His masculinity is SO FRAGILE that he twisted it into ‘I’m not gonna be fake with someone who fucked over my friend. Can’t fuck them up either tho lol’ and ‘i’m not gonna make shit easy on you, i’m gonna make them feel weird’. What a baby lmfao -His assault joke rubbed me the wrong way. I know Jeff’s schtick is the whole “I was in jail for a few months and I was a drug dealer I’m big and scary” blah blah blah. Listen, I’ve met men that have been in jail longer (he was in for only 4 months he once said I think) and had worse upbringings than he did and HAD to do some of the shit Jeff was doing (which lemme remind yall, was on his own accord). The men that I know that have lived similar and worse lifestyles than Jeff, would never and I REPEAT NEVER, make a joke about assaulting a Woman over “fucking my friend over”, when the situation was what it was. Which was: an exposé, basically. That’s some petty shit, it’s for the birds. (Also, Todd and Jay’s jokes about the assault joke? Ain’t it. They were just as bad as Jeff’s original joke.) -Do y’all know what Jeff’s been to jail for? He tried to assault someone that worked at a 7-Eleven after he and his dumbass friends were fucking around in the store and got yelled at and ended up assaulting a woman walking by. -He also talked about her mental health issues. Maybe he wasn’t talking about her specifically, but it was REAL specific. He said that it was crazy that a “psychopath” that’s been in a mental hospital still had a platform on youtube. That they shouldn’t have one. Trisha made a really good point of, “some could say the same about your time in jail.” Because they could. And mental health can be managed. So can your outrageous anger issues, Jeff. This was really ignorant on his part. -I also want to remind everyone about the time he said he didn’t understand how men could be sexually harassed. That all you had to do was say no. -He says he likes to “make things awkward” and make everything a joke when really he’s just being ignorant and doesn’t want to get real hate when he gets inevitably called out

Trisha’s “Dirt”:

-Trisha doesn’t know anything that the rest of us don’t. We’re just all IGNORING it. Why? Bc David’s charming and Todd and Jeff are pretty? Ridiculous. This is the last vlog squad post i’m going to make because I’m done. So the following is going to be a rundown on the “dirt” on them that made me come to the decision that I wouldn’t be supporting them anymore. I’ll also put my own thoughts and comments underneath in case y’all are curious. Staying silent about these situations is the same as complacency. -Brandon Calvillo: Covered this but to reiterate, he dated a high schooler and slept with her/dated her knowing her age. He then lied about it in a video to cover his tracks. *I am well aware that she was months from being 18. This doesn’t make it okay. What does a 26 year old have in common with a 17 year old? And just because this is the first girl we know about, doesn’t mean she’s the first at all or even the last. -Durte Dom: He was accused of assault at vidcon. *This hasn’t been confirmed. But it also hasn’t even been discussed. This girl is getting hate from vs stans and the vs have stayed silent. I can understand not wanting to show attention to people who make accusations for clout, but assault is serious and should at the Very Least be acknowledged privately or legally bc it could be considered slander. Don’t let your fans (or your friend’s fans) do your dirty work. -Jeff Wittek: He has major anger issues. Makes jokes about assaulting women after actually having assaulted one in the past (accidentally but doesnt take away from what he did) and has made jokes about sexual harassment against men not being viable *tbh he has a “pretty white boy complex”. Meaning he knows that he can say and do what he wants and most people will let it slide bc he’s a pretty white boy. No education needed. -Jason Nash: Is friend’s with a predator, is quite possibly setting an awful example to his kids, namely his daughter. *Listen. I’m a feminist, a woman should be able to decide what to do with her body after she turns 18. But being groomed and hit on by grown ass men when you’re barely legal, ain’t it. If you want to and feel ready, there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it BUT 9.9 times out of 10, that fucks a woman up in the future. One day, she is going to see her dad hitting on a 19/20 year old Tana and see that her dad’s 26 year old best friend dated a 17/18 year old and lied about specifics and might think that’s normal and how men should treat her. I won’t support that shit.

And as for all the other member’s of the vs, they either don’t care enough about what their friends or friends’ friends are doing, or they’re not bothering to even consider it’s happening and that isn’t cool either.

Be better.

As for Trisha, she’s had her own faults and fuckups, no doubt about it. I’m not a big fan of her content but i FELT for her. Her name has been dragged through the mud because of this more than anything else and it doesn’t sit right with me when her only real fuckup in THIS situation was bringing the ex and kids into it the way she did. Everything else either could have been avoided or she had a right to say to the public since they put everything about the relationship out in the open as much as she did. If Jason and David had reached out and admitted their own mistakes and asked her to stop talking about them online the way she was, she probably would’ve chilled out. What happened, what they and their fans (us) have done has been nothing short of traumatizing, no doubt. The way these 30 year old boys (Jeff, Todd, Scott and Jay) are reacting to her? They’re the real joke if we’re being honest.

Note: I’d also like to say that if you do still support them and have differing views than I do, I’ll respect you and your views no matter what. Everyones entitled to their opinion and thoughts. These are just mine.

#trisha paytas #vlog squad #jeff wittek #david dobrik #jason nash #durte dom #brandon calvillo #scott sire #most of these men are manipulative af #as much as i love zane matt and heath #they dont speak up either #neither do any of the women which is borderline heartbreaking #rant #I did my best to make everything clear but if theres any confusions or questions or if you just wanna have a discussion about it lmk #Discontinuing Speak Now.

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