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httpknjoon · 7 months

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(re)starting over again | kth; 11

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.8k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | AAAAND WE'RE BACK! it's been a month since the last update! consider this as a new season for mc and tae :)) u might find this chapter a little fast-paced or not idk.. let me know ur thoughts! enjoy reading <;3 ps. sorry for the errors!

main masterlist | series masterlist

A couple of years passed, two to be exact, and a lot of things happened. The bakery became more crowded. It was renovated and had a larger space instead of moving the entire bakery to another place. They began hiring extra help, usually part-time working students who used to be customers in the shop too.

Also, turns out that Jimin has a kid. Taehyung met Jihoon just a week after his best friend learned about his existence. Jihoon is a carbon copy of his dad, Taehyung thought. His eyes disappear when he smiles. Now, they have a little baker running around the kitchen usually on weekends.

Aside from those changes, Taehyung now lives in a studio apartment just a five-minute walk away from the bakery. He moved in just weeks after you left. The said apartment is not that big, just enough for him to rest in after work. Jimin commented that he treats that place like a hotel since Taehyung didn’t really personalize it to make the ambiance like a home. The whole place was plain, not even considered minimalist. Just plain. The walls were untouched. It was off-white when Taehyung came and it remains the same now. He didn’t really bother to invest anything in the place.

The house you two bought and lived in is still being taken care of. By him. Taehyung cleans up there once a week, just in case you reach out to visit home again and maybe talk about what to do with it. And when he feels like it, which is almost rare, he sleeps on the couch in the living room. He never really entered the guest room, which became your bedroom after the accident, except the time he got home after Jisoo and Namjoon’s wedding. That room was spotless, just like how you left it. The only things you left that night were on your vanity table; your house keys, the vintage pearl ring he bought you back in the flea market, and a folded paper.

The letter says, “Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.”

He never painted the walls with another color as he found the shade of blue that spreads around the house perfect. He never bought any furniture and still kept the same ones you had. He thought it fit the theme of the house and his preference. And yes, the picture frames show the same photos they originally had. It felt home that way for him. But he chose to move to the apartment because he always felt like he was missing something. The house is cozy and comfortable. But whenever he tries to lie on supposedly his bed, it feels empty. Once, he tried playing jazz music around the house, but it just got lonelier so he turned it off and just continued cleaning.

But he did try to keep up and look back at the things he forgot through his friends and the things he found at the house. Jimin, Namjoon, and sometimes Jisoo were patient with his questions. Jisoo, your best friend, was understandably distant from him at first after you went away. But she adds details to the stories Namjoon tells and later, became amiable with him. Jimin’s mom still looks after him and brings him food when she visits the city. There were a few times she mentioned Taehyung’s mother but he didn’t really care about her. So he ignores it.

“You know, you’re a handsome man. Don’t you have any lady?”

One of their common customer, a man in his seventies once asked him. It was not the first time someone asked him such a thing. He always shakes his head with a smile as an answer. It would lead later with an offer to meet someone they know. Taehyung would shyly and kindly decline these offers, saying he really doesn’t feel like dating for now. It’s true. The idea of him dating someone else felt wrong. It was like his own body rejected the idea as he felt uneasy with that thought.

“So, it’s that time of the year.”

Taehyung was pulling his third pan of cheesecake out of the hot oven with his oven gloves when he heard Ava, their longtime part-time staff, say that. She sounded amused but not surprised. He looked up and saw her leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed. She had a smug smile on her face.

“I swear, you should just declare this particular day as Cheesecake and Banana Bread Day just to make it official,” she added, teasing.

Taehyung looked at her, unimpressed, “It’s selling. In fact, my cheesecakes are one of our best sellers here… What are you doing here anyway? Go back to the front.”

He scolds her, she just rolled her eyes, unbothered. Ava was one of the students who knew Taehyung even before his accident. She went from being a loyal customer to a reliable staff of the shop. She has been enjoying the pastries in the shop ever since she was twelve and now, sixteen, she also enjoys getting into small banters with her older bosses. She is usually candid, and not shy to share her thoughts. Taehyung sees her as a little sister most time.

Given that she began working here after you left, Ava doesn’t really have an idea why Taehyung bakes a few batches of cheesecake and banana loaves on this specific date. She doesn’t know you and that you are celebrating your birthday today. Taehyung learned about that fact after his phone notified him weeks after you went. Since then, he has baked your favorites on your special day.

It’s the third time now. It’s probably a slim chance but he hoped to see you around the bakeshop, enjoying pastries. But so far, he hasn’t seen you around. In fact, he hadn’t even heard from you ever since that night. He thought he saw you a year ago in the subway when he came to Incheon to go sightseeing, but he lost you before he could take a second glance. He didn’t know where you moved since he respects your space but he wondered if you really moved that far. He wonders about you every now and then.

Jisoo posted a short clip in her Instagram Stories months ago. It’s just a clip of a long trail and he swore he heard you in the background noise of that clip, telling your best friend how tired you are from hiking. Then, the clip ended.

“Not because it’s best selling you would make a ton of it. It’s something about demand and supply– I don’t know,” she conceded, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “Anyway, I’m here because someone called on the phone, asking for you.”

Taehyung’s heart stopped for a second. His hopes almost blasted out of his soul but he tried to stay calm before asking Ava, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s a woman. They said they want to specifically talk to you.” she replied, unaware that the man in front of him was holding his breath. She continued, “They are actually waiting on call right now.”

Taehyung almost sprinted to the front desk of the shop. Still in his mint green oven gloves, he reached for the telephone. His heart is beating fast while his gut is twisting tight. He paused when he realized he had nothing to say. He doesn’t know what to say if it’s you. Are you going to talk about the house? Should he greet you with Happy Birthday first and offer you your favorite cheesecake? Maybe you won’t like– Stop.

Taehyung took a deep breath before exhaling. He spoke, “Hello, this is Kim Taehyung, co-owner of The Sweet Spot. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi.”

His heart dropped. Okay, relax. He told himself. It’s not you.

There were nights when Taehyung would find himself awake. And tonight is one of those nights. He just lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. He always had trouble falling asleep, maybe a side effect of his accident. He doesn’t know anymore. But he knows that it makes his head go crazy with random thoughts when times like this happen. And now, he thought of something.

That’s when he picked up his phone and keys, along with his coat. He drove away from his apartment.

The bell above the door rang when he entered the convenience store to pick up a few beers and chips. His cold hands stayed in his coat’s pockets as he looked around the store, waiting for the clerk to scan his stuff. Just when the worker was about to say the prince, the bell clung again.

“No, wait. I’m just really hungry. Wait for me… Yes, I have money here.”

Everything went quiet and suddenly all that he could hear was that voice. Your voice. He’s sure of that. He looked back and saw a woman’s back going into one of the aisles. His heart raced once again. You’re here?

“Dude, you okay?” the tired clerk asked, looking at him with heavy bags under his eyes.

Taehyung looked at him, and broke out of his headspace, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.”

He pulled out his cash and paid. He can still hear your voice like you were talking with someone on your phone.

“Do you want anything– Oh, the honey-butter chips I want ran out of stock.”

Taehyung looked at the chips in his hand. He looked at the clerk who also looked at him like they understood each other without saying anything. Taehyung placed the chip back on the counter.

“Just give this to the girl,” he whispered before turning his back.

He didn’t look back. A cool blow of wind brushed on his face when he walked out the door. For a second, he inhaled and exhaled again to calm his nerves. He got in his car, putting the pack of beer on the other seat. As he started the car, his eyes landed on the side mirror.

Yes, it’s you. Definitely.

You just walked out of the same store, still on your phone, as you walked away grinning with your honey butter chips. You walked on the other end of the pathwalk. Taehyung pursed his lips and drove away.

His lips remained sealed but his head was exploding with questions. That was the closest he had seen you since the night you said goodbye. How are you? Why are you in the city? Did you live around here? It can’t be. Jisoo told him you left the hospital you used to work at.

Instead of driving back to his apartment, Taehyung ended up parking in front of your deserted house. He had his beer with him as he turned the key on the doorknob. He stepped into the said home feeling colder even though he still hadn’t removed his coat. He placed the drink on the center table in the living room and plugged in the TV for background noise. He put on a random show, which happens to be FRIENDS.

Opening a can, he sat on the couch, pulling a couple of books he left under the same table. Photo albums and scrapbooks. You never told him such things exist in here, he just found them after cleaning around the house. It was personalized by you and him. He could tell by the design and handwritten captions.

Almost everything was documented through photos and other knick knacks like receipts from a movie you two saw together. Browsing through the pages of it, it felt like looking at other people’s relationships even though he was in the photos himself. In one of the photos, he saw himself with a camera. He didn’t even know he had one. He tried searching around the house for it but he never found it.

You had more solo portraits in the said books than him. He figured out why. Maybe he really loved capturing you as his subject. You looked the same in every picture: happy and in love. Most of your pictures were candid, taken without you knowing. Then, a handwritten date by him will be seen below it. Each photo was adorable. Some are just random ones. You were brushing your teeth or showing off your colorful scrubs (which was written in the caption: BOUGHT HER YELLOW DUCKIES SCRUBS I THINK SHE LIKES IT).

Taehyung spend his sleepless nights like this, looking back at what he missed. He read through articles before that the possibility of getting his memories back is a hit or miss. So he learned to just go on and maybe accept how things became. He tries to move forward at the same time he tries to look back. It’s quite confusing sometimes.

IT’S HER… I’M SURE

That was the caption in one photo of you dating just weeks after you two moved into this house. In the picture, your back was turned as you sat in front of your vanity table. You can be seen fixing your hair while looking at your reflection. Taehyung’s eyebrow raised with the caption. He wondered what it meant. He turned the page to the next one but was greeted with nothing but a blank page. Turns out, that was the most recent one.

“The main branch of their restaurant is somewhere in Incheon. I’ll send you the address after the call.”

Taehyung listened to Jimin through a loudspeaker call. His hair is still damp from a shower. Standing in front of the mirror, he compares two coats that would suit the rest of his outfit. He felt the need to look presentable tonight.

“You will meet the owner herself, Ashley. She said you can just introduce yourself to the host and he’ll lead you to your table… Ava kept the samples in the shop. She said she put them in different Tupperware so you can spot it right away.” Jimin instructed.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard his best friend sigh on the other line, “I’m sorry for the short notice, Tae. I totally forgot Jihoon will be staying with me tonight.”

Tonight, Taehyung will be meeting a special client. It’s the one who called a couple of weeks ago, during your birthday. it‘s a big restaurant that is planning to put the bakeshop’s products on their menu for dessert. Specifically, the cakes. The head chef was the one who brought up their product to the owner, whom he will meet now. Jimin initially agreed to meet the said client but his co-parenting schedule had some shifts. Just an hour ago, Taehyung learned he’d be the one meeting the client. It’s not like he had plans anyway. So, he immediately prepared himself.

After picking the clothes, Taehyung blow-dried and brushed his hair. His best friend sent the main address minutes later and so he left his apartment. He first drove by the shop, which closed a little earlier today. A lot of cakes were made for sample. It includes Jimin’s Carrot Cake, his own cheesecake, and six other more. Taehyung left with a brown bag of the samples.

His fingers tapped with the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove his way to the restaurant. It was a peaceful night on the road.

This will be the first time Taehyung will be going back to Incheon since that time he went sightseeing. He stayed there for just three days before, it was days after his phone notified him about your supposedly fifth anniversary. His emotions were all over the place because of the aftermath and the demanding work in the bakeshop around that time. So he asked Jimin for a very short break. He still hasn’t got a car then so he took the subway throughout the whole time. It was during his last day there when he saw a glimpse of you in the crowded subways of that city. He remembered you were in your scrubs, your hair was cleanly kept in a low bun, and you were walking opposite of his direction. Then, he blinked. You were gone in the crowded place.

“Good evening, sir.”

Almost forty minutes later, Taehyung arrived at the restaurant, Starry Night. He was greeted by the host as he entered the elegant place. It has a great ambiance, romantic. It is a fine-dining restaurant and seems like a perfect spot for dinner dates.

He said his name when he was asked. And while the man looked down at his guest list, Taehyung’s eyes traveled around the place. And not even a minute in, his eyes stopped at someone who he felt had been staring at him.

His eyes widened at the sight. A stunning woman, clad in a black dress, stares back at him with surprise. His mouth ran dry, he had to gulp. Now, he’s sure. He’s sure.

It’s you.

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @zzztaegizz @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise @kiwuki @tannies-luv @fuckthinking @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @ficluvr613 @misshale21

#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

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sadesluvr · 4 months

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Hello, new here! I first found you through your William Afton fics and LOVED THEM!! Especially the one with ghost reader, that was a fun one (which kinda inspired me for this ask)

If it's alright, I would like to request a movie William Afton scenario, with again some crazy supernatural elements, where the reader is kind of a shape-shifter/metamorph. The best part is the animal form the reader and shift into is a rabbit!!

Whether platonic or romantic fluff (although I kinda want to see platonic the most), whichever you decide, I was thinking of a scenario where the reader was exploring the rural/forest areas outside of the city when they spot the abandoned pizzeria, get curiouse and go to investigate. But coincidentally, William is there doing some killings from recent intruders trashing the place. And before they can be caught they shift, so Will only finds a supposedly small abandoned domestic rabbit that found its way here. He's taking it home :). Reader is freaking out. And maybe after a little while, however you chose, Will discovers the rabbit being the reader and secret of being a shape shifter and surprised.

You can continue it however you wish.

A/N: Hey, I’m glad you like my work! Thanks for the ask and being patient - This is more of a drabble/list of headcanons bc it was easier for me to write :)

William isn’t really a pet kind of guy. Vanessa had a fish and a rabbit, but since she grew out of it he’s never felt the need for an animal companion

Still, he takes you home because something about you reminds him of his past- both good and bad

He puts you in a random box that’s filled with spare parts, hoping he doesn’t have to wash more blood from his hands since there’s a few blunt nails and hums on his way back

You, on the other hand, are worried. You won’t be able to get home, and you’ve seen what he’s capable of

You’re shy at first - you don’t eat, and rub away from pets

But he’s actually rather kind to you - he leaves out water and spare veggies. He doesn’t have a hutch at first but makes sure your shoebox is clean and padded with blankets

Eventually you start roaming around the house and opening up to him. He’s totally chill as you watch him make sandwiches for work and stuff, and he even starts talking to you. It’s actually kind of wholesome given the fact you met him murdering someone….

When he’s out, you shower and go back to doing your regular human stuff. Once, his neighbour almost caught you standing by a window you left open so that you could get back in (bunny form). Luckily she was senile so William brushed it off

Your luck runs out one day when he comes home unexpectedly. He sees feet under the door to the bathroom and is ready to kill - bursting into the room without care - only to find you, his pet.

He’s confused, thinking the intruder disappears, but sees your socks on the floor. He doesn’t believe it, even when you shift right in front of him:

“Don’t hurt me!” you say. “It’s crazy, but I can explain…”

You tell him everything about you - including why you were there at the pizzeria that night. He’s shocked, even considering the fact he’s created literal Frankenstein’s, but he softens

Is most impressed you didn’t rat him out to the cops

Both of your secrets are now safe with each other - William still looks after you (he prefers when you’re in bunny form) but there’s times where you’ve had a bit of breakfast together before he leaves

It’s nice, actually. You kind of keep him sane.

Getting a matching purple tie for you like his Springbonnie suit

But he’s a psycho at heart so of course he’s thinking of how he could *inadvertently* use you in his schemes….

His best friend is a bunny. It doesn’t make sense but he doesn’t either

#request fill #florence writes!!#william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf x reader #bunny! reader #my asks

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god-complex-12 · 1 year

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Cigarettes

——

Pairing: [Joker] Jack Naiper x reader

Pronouns: he/him

Fandom: DC

Quote: “Call me Joker.”

Description: Y/n gets a new housemate.

Disclaimer: Boring story, the story and Joker is just completely based on Chaz frome When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. The chapter is called The House. Great book. Recommend, but this story is almost exactly like that.Joker comes off creepy. It doesn’t really clarify if y/n really likes Joker. Joker is referred to as Jack. And cigarettes.

Master list

——

An old building, it was. An old building, but y/n found it homey. An old building, filled with crazy people, and cluttered with antiques. It was more of just a big house. Y/n has lived there for awhile, it wasn’t the best place, but he couldn’t complain. He usually kept to himself, not talking with anyone that much.

He did know the drama. For instance, he knew that a student was moving out to go to college. He also knew someone was moving in. A guy named Jack, and y/n so happened to see him in the hall. No, he wasn’t moving in, he was just renting the room. He wasn’t to stay permanently, at least, that’s what y/n thought.

“You wanna help?” He asked.

Y/n didn’t talk much to him, he kinda just examined the man. He was slender, and handsome. He looked perfect, so y/n started to try and focus on his flaws. He has freakishly pale skin. His yellow teeth. But if you asked y/n, he found those things more appealing.

“You looking for something?” Jack asked, he had a cheeky smile.

Y/n didn’t respond. He just went on talking about something else. Jack wasn’t the nicest. He was pretty rude.

“Anyways, I don’t have to chit-chat.” And then he walked away.

He liked to do that. Leave the conversation early, like he wasn’t the one to start it. It was kind of annoying, but y/n couldn’t do anything about it.

Before Jack, everything was quiet. Now, the day consists of old 90’s rock music. It’s not that bad, it’s good music, but all day? It was annoying. Sometimes, Jack would come to see y/n. Knocking on his door asking for a cigarette. Y/n would cave in, handing him one, and Jack would stand there and smoke it. Y/n had to stand at his doorway and watch. Jack would complain about y/n’s room. Y/n didn’t think anything was wrong with his room. It’s clean. It’s neat. But Jack didn’t think so.

The longer Jack lived there, the more things y/n started to notice. Jack lost his job, supposedly because he was too good for it. Y/n doesn’t really know if he got another one.

Jack began to knock on y/n’s door more often. He had no care in the world for the time. He’d always have so many stories or some stupid conversation to say. Y/n tiredly listen.

Jack wasn’t the most stable person, and they came more apparent when he’d angrily throw stuff out his window, or break something and spread all of the pieces around staring at it. Sometimes you’d see him with a beat up face, he’ll say he got in a fight and won, other’s say he got jumped.

A lot of times when y/n would open the door, Jack would drag y/n out of the wrong, by aggressively grabbing his arms. Jack would control each of his limbs as a puppet. That was when it clicked something was seriously wrong with this guy. Y/n didn’t notice as fast as he’d like, maybe he thought someone so good and clean looking could be so lost.

Jack would even go as far as shoving notes under y/n’s door. They were creepy and unsettling. “I can die and be born again on the same day.” or “You’re my favorite, I’d keep you.” The writing was if it was written from blood. The dark red ink (If it was ink) was off putting. Y/n heard he didn’t to someone else in the house too, but it wasn’t as bad. That was when the landlord told him to leave. Jack had no choice but to agree.

Someone had come by to get his stuff and had said he was put into a mental institution. Said that he was schizophrenic. y/n wasn’t shocked, in fact he felt a little sympathetic, and even went to see him one time. “I knew you loved me. That’s why you were my favorite.” He’d say.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it to yourself, Jack.” Y/n grumbled.

“Call me Joker.” He said and it seemed more of a threat than a request.

——

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periprose · 1 year

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Florence - Chapter Two

Despite your attempts to keep a healthy amount of distance between you and Peter, you end up growing closer together (a bit fast for your own tastes) as you experience the joys of air travel. MJ seems to be having wedding troubles when you get there, so it's up to you and Peter to cheer her up.

Becoming friends again, mild flirting, banter, mutual pining, Peter not understanding his own feelings, air travel stuff, lots of going on about how beautiful Italy is

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You’re surprised how fast the month goes after that. It’s July 15th, and tomorrow, you’ll be on the flight to Italy.

You pack every Sunday- just putting away all your cute, summery clothes, your swimsuits, and other nice dresses that might be needed for special events. MJ is supposedly bringing a whole bunch of extra outfits for everyone, which was notably given to her from Dior’s fashion house.

The mental bill you’re calculating for the whole thing is getting really high.

Ever since Peter moved back into his house, you’ve been catching him doing silly things through his room window- brushing his teeth while dancing, waking up shirtless (you averted your eyes so quickly), and today playing with a tennis ball, accidentally throwing it through his open window and hitting your window with it, looking sheepish about it- but it started a conversation between the two of you.

Hey. Peter mouths, and then he waves at you.

You blink, and then wave back.

What’s up? He mouths, and you shrug.

You lift up a pile of clothing. Just packing.

Same. Peter holds up a ratty sweater- and your eyes widen with recognition.

You open up your room window, and Peter finally smiles, because he’s gotten you to talk to him.

“Is that-?” You point to it, and then start laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you still have the Mathematics Club sweater!”

“I can’t believe you’re admitting you got rid of such a cherished memory. So casually, too, Howlett.” Peter sighs, as if he’s actually defeated by such an idea.

“Wait.” You hold up your finger, and Peter does wait as you rummage around in your room, until finally, you pick up a raggedy old cloth. You hold it up to him.

It is your ninth grade sweater- at least, it’s a piece of fabric with the same emblem- and it’s just clearly being used as a rag to clean things up.

Peter scoffs. “Jesus, Howlett. That thing looks rancid.”

“It’s for cleaning!” You’re indignant, but Peter is laughing at you, and you jokingly huff. “Okay, whatever. Pack a sweater that won’t fit you, I don’t care. I’m not wearing it.”

“Okay, mom.” Peter tosses it on his bed, and you feel such familiarity towards him suddenly. It’s hard not to smile- but you remind yourself that Peter just wants friendship, and he’s just trying to be on good terms with you.

You shake your head, letting your smile falter a little, and continue packing in mutual silence with Peter.

You wake up really late by accident. Like, 4 AM, and the red-eye flight (it’s a fast one that will get you there in 4 hours, courtesy of Harry) is at 5:30 AM, and you need at least two hours to go through all the bullshit at the airport before you can get to your gate.

Logan is snoring downstairs- he’s fallen asleep on the couch by accident. If your dad didn’t weigh like 300 pounds of pure muscle (you don’t know how a teacher could be so buff) you’d lift him up out of the living room.

But you decide to just get ready for the airport. You shower really fast- brush your teeth- and throw all the extra stuff like makeup, skincare, and perfume into your mini backpack, where your phone, passport, and wallet are already in. Airport clothes are a comfy pair of green Adidas running shorts, a loose gray muscle tee, sneakers, and your hair pulled back in a claw clip.

Logan is very slow as you try to push him out the door.

“Dad- C’mon- We’re gonna be late-!” You’re shoving against him, with your suitcase and bag and all of your might, and Logan is just so. Damn. Slow.

He grumbles, scratches his face, and then makes his way out the door, with one shitty duffel bag and a pair of sandals that you don’t think will last the walk to the car. Logan is never prepared for shit.

As you’re walking out, in the very dark early morning, Peter, May and Ben are all inside their car, and Logan suddenly groans.

“I forgot to fill up the tank yesterday.” He yawns, and you look at him with the most irritated, pissed off look you can muster.

Years of doing that still have no effect on Logan. He just rolls his eyes.

“Fuck off, Lettie. We’ll call a cab.” He says, but Ben, who’s at the wheel of the Parker car, immediately waves at you two.

“We’ve got room- if you don’t mind stuffing your bag in the back seat.” Ben points to Logan’s duffle bag, and he sighs and tells you that he’s still sitting in the front.

Leaving you to put your own suitcase into the trunk, and then awkwardly clamber into the back seat, where you’re wedged in between Peter and May.

May touches your arm with a fond warmth- and it immediately makes you feel guilty that you’ve pushed away this family. They never did anything to you, you were just being extraordinarily selfish.

Peter’s bare leg is touching yours, and you snicker at how prickly it is.

“What?”

“Your leg is so… hairy.” You joke, and Peter’s eyes narrow.

“It’s called being a man.” He leans back in his seat, and you try not to laugh at just how lanky and tall Peter looks sometimes. He’s wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts combo, which looks like his pajamas- it would not surprise you if it was.

“It’s 2023, Pete. Doesn’t hurt to be gender non-conforming now and then.” You retort.

“Let’s not pretend you care about woke-isms now, Howlett. You just want to be comfortable.” He responds without missing a beat. And if anything, he pushes his leg against yours a little harder.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

“What the hell are you guys going on about?” Logan mumbles in confusion, and you and Peter giggle. Logan rubs his eyes- and then decides to disguise his tired expression with sunglasses.

“Beats me.” Ben pulls out of the driveway, and begins the short drive to JFK International Airport. “You two better not bicker like children the whole time.”

Logan laughs at that, and you look down at your feet, thinking that you missed bickering with Peter.

Peter pulls out a phone- evidently his work phone- and May immediately tuts.

“It’s supposed to be a vacation, Peter. You deserve that, at least.” She reprimands him, and crosses her arms. Making you lean even closer to Peter. “No work. Lettie, tell him.”

You meet Peter’s glance- and he has an interesting look on his face. Like he’s daring you to talk to him for real, in a serious way where you care about what he’s doing.

“It’s not really my business, but…” You start, and you can see Peter’s eyes shift ever so slightly- he’s disappointed, you think. “I think you should let yourself have fun.”

“Okay, that’s fair. I’m putting it on silent.” He makes a big motion of pressing the do not disturb button, and then stuffs it into his backpack. “Hey, want a gummy bear?”

You’re taken aback. “Uh, no. It’s probably too early in the morning for that- plus I don’t want to think how long gummy bears have been in your bag for.”

“Your loss.” Peter tosses a handful in his mouth as you gag. “What, c’mon, Howlett. We all need a hearty breakfast to start the day-”

“I’m buying real breakfast at the airport.” You cross your arms, and Peter nods, chowing down on more gummy bears.

“I’m hungry.” He smiles at you, and his teeth are covered in gummy bits, congealed in a disgusting rainbow of colours that has you instantly cackling with laughter.

“Oh my god, dude. You’re gonna get so many cavities.�� You’re literally trying not to laugh but Peter is really, really good at stupid faces, and he keeps sneering at you like a little pig, and you shake with laughter as he keeps nudging you.

You’re doing your best to be his buddy, and you feel like it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. If anything, you actually… you like being his friend, even if you can’t have it all.

You have a small, sheepish smile on your face that you’re desperately trying to get rid of now. Peter side eyes you- and he’s content to see that he’s still got the ability to make you laugh uncontrollably.

The airport is incredibly busy for 4:20 AM.

Families are running- literally jogging with all their bags and new paraphernalia bought from the airport shops- towards their gates, TSA agents are being really touchy about everything today, and the line ups for everything are really, really long.

You don’t need to check in any suitcases, so you skip that. Your passports and tickets are checked by multiple different authoritative people.

It seems to happen in a bit of a rush. You’re pushed through security, and you grimace as they look through your suitcase- for some reason the TSA agent opens the zipper of the clear mesh bag holding all your underwear and lingerie- and he leers at you.

“Going on a special trip? Maybe some yachting?” He asks, grinning, and you know he’s insinuating that you’re one of those girls who “yacht”, as in, providing sexual favours to guests there as a hired hooker.

Your dad’s fist tightens, but you push him forward. “It’s fine, dad. We don’t really have time for this.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Peter speaks up, and he’s scratching the back of his hair, but you can tell Peter has that look on his face- he’s not gonna let this go. He’s a protective, justice-oriented guy, you know that.

“Peter, please… it’s the TSA. You don’t want to get in trouble with them.” You shake your head and peer up at him, and Peter can’t really say no when you’re pleading at him with those big, sad eyes.

The TSA agent doesn’t like that Peter said anything at all. “Sir, I’m gonna need to do a pat-down procedure on you.”

You turn, a level of shock and just awe at the audacity of this guy working it’s way onto your face. “Are you serious? Is it because he said something?”

The agent is silent for a moment. “...Not related.”

You don’t buy it, and you’re about to say something, but Peter squeezes your shoulder.

“Howlett, it’ll just take a second. Otherwise we’re going to hold up the line, and then we’ll be late for our flight. Right?” He whispers, and it’s very Peter to comfort you like this- but you can see in his eyes that by defending him, you did do the right thing, the very thing that he wanted you to from the beginning- that you care.

You do care, even if you tried to act like you didn’t.

“Okay. Just… stay safe.” You say, and you look back at Peter being ushered into the pat-down booth as you, Logan, Ben and May are allowed to pass through security.

You’re waiting in the check in line when Peter finally returns, grinning widely. He’s holding his cheek in a weird way- and you look up at him, looking inquisitive, but Peter sidesteps your almost-question instantly.

“I bought breakfast?” He holds up a bag, and reaches in to hand you a breakfast burrito. You’re too hungry to ask your question and eat at the same time, and Peter beams at you, May, Logan and Ben as you guys eat. Quickly, too, because you’ve only got ten more minutes to check in.

Checking into the flight goes a lot smoother. The check-in lady recognizes that you have first class seats, which are very coveted and basically label you as VIP members of the flight.

You cringe at the level of opulence that Harry seems to be paying for- Peter, too, gives you a look that just reads “yikes.”

It’s not very growing-up-in-the-poor-suburbs-of-Queens of you, but you’re not gonna say no now.

The airplane seats are large and spacious. You struggle to reach the luggage hold, and Peter wordlessly lifts up your suitcase, puts it in, and then his own, and shuts the hold with a clink. He gives you a funny look- like he’s about to raise his arms and say “no, really, it was my pleasure.”

And he does just that, to your mild surprise. He used to do that all the time when you were kids- if you got too cushy about Peter being your little servant, he would go overboard to make you give him some gratitude.

“Sorry. Thank you, Peter.” You say with as much sincerity as you can muster, because you’re just exhausted at this moment.

“No worries. I’m tired too.” Peter leans back in his seat, which has a metre gap of distance from you. There’s a large flat screen in front of his seat, which is really like a lounge chaise sofa, and a table that is ergonomically designed to also rest his arms on. Everything looks like a futuristic piece of art.

Peter suddenly scowls, and holds his cheek again.

“Hey… you never told me what happened to your face.” You lean forward on the arm rest of Peter’s chair, and gently pull his hand back.

Peter’s face is sheepish as you do. He refuses to meet your glance, even when you gasp.

“Peter! That’s a-” You touch the newly red, freshly bruised skin on his cheek, and he flinches. “A bruise-!”

He clamps his hand over your mouth. “Shut it, I don’t need Aunt May on my case about that.”

You gently pry his hand off of you. “But what happened?”

Peter’s eyes fall to the floor of the cabin.

“Don’t lie to me.” You immediately start, and he sighs with a well known just-my-Parker-luck air.

“Okay, listen. I wasn’t trying to be a hero, or anything like that…” He plays around with his knuckles. “The TSA dude didn’t exactly shut up when he got me into the booth.”

You’re silent, but you’re listening really, really hard, and Peter looks up just to make sure that you are listening. God, he missed the times when you looked at him so intently.

“Well, I don’t know if I should say what he-”

“Say it.” You give him your consent, because you need to know what got Peter so riled up that he would let himself get beat up.

“He… um…” Peter swallows, and he wonders if he should. Because you’re only now just starting to open up- he’s worried that he’ll say the wrong thing and push you aside, and he can’t have that again.

Peter continues anyways. “He made a shitty joke- just some offhand comment about how he could show you a better time than me, I guess?”

You feel your face turn hot at the implication.

“And… he just wouldn’t stop. I tried, you know, to just ignore it, to respect women and not give into the toxic masculinity bullshit. But that made him more… eager to get a response.” Peter stares at his hands, and he starts getting a bit of a grimace going on. “He started going on about how your body must look- I’m not gonna repeat that, sorry, even if you want me to, I think it’s too much- and I guess he kept saying it was a shame you were wasted on me.”

You hold Peter’s arm, and he looks back up at you.

“That’s when I couldn’t take it. I punched him.” He shrugs, and your eyes widen.

“Peter…”

“I don’t regret it, Howlett. He had it coming- it was so satisfying to watch.” Peter shakes his head. “I know, I know. That’s toxic. And he punched me back, see?”

“I thought you knew better than getting into fights.” You cross your arms. “Ah, well at least I can rest easy knowing it wasn’t about me.”

“Wasn’t about-” Peter gives you an incredulous glance. “Of course it was about you, moron.”

“Huh?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “C’mon, Peter. You only punched him when he made you feel inadequate.”

“I don’t care about that.” Peter is impatient, but you’re just barely listening now. Already convinced of your own idea. “I care that he thought all of your value was summed up in whether or not he got a hard on. That you exist just to be the receiving object of some idiot’s orgasm.”

“Great visuals as usual, Peter.” You snicker, but he’s entirely serious. “Okay. I’m sorry… I know that you care.”

You ignore the hollow feeling in your chest as you say that. Maybe Peter was so disgusted, so thrown off by the very idea of you two together, like that, that he would defend your honour in the most purely, platonic way.

You know these thoughts aren’t rational. You’re just too cowardly to really talk to him about it.

Peter doesn’t even really know what threw him off like that, anyways. Of course he was going to defend you- you’re too special to him that he would let anyone talk about you like that. Even a potential boyfriend.

He shudders internally at that thought for some reason, and then can’t place why. Why beat someone up for you? Why feel threatened by a boyfriend?

He doesn’t love you… right?

Peter’s got a hell of a lot of questions swirling around in his brain now, and they’re not getting any clearer as you start backing away a little. There’s a couple of potential answers, sure, but he’s not going to get a genuine one unless he talks to you.

“I… um… I care about you too.” You say in the most monotone whisper, and Peter cannot tell if you mean that in any way at all, let alone platonically or romantically.

Damn it, he thinks. She’s pulling away again. Is this what happened last time? I was accidentally displaying too many feelings, and she didn’t know how to reject me?

Peter exhales. He thinks this should be a good thing. You’re at least talking to him- he’s going to be okay with that for now.

“Okay.” He blinks. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No…” You roll your eyes at your own antics. “Peter, I’m just an overthinking idiot sometimes.”

“I know.”

You hit his shoulder and he laughs.

“We’re good, right?” You ask, and Peter nods, as if he was insulted that you had to even ask the question. It seems a tad put on, but you take it.

“Aw… we can’t watch a movie together now.” He tuts, pointing at how individual and faraway your seats and personal screens are.

“Maybe that’s for the better.” You yawn, stretching and teetering on the arm rest that you’re sitting on. “We should get some sleep?”

Suddenly, a flight attendant walks past you in the aisle with the drink cart, which hits you just hard enough that you fall over the arm rest. You steady yourself, and your face brushes against Peter’s cheek.

He’s unnerved how close you are to him now. It doesn’t help that the relationship between the two of you that was assumed by the TSA agent was so… erotic in nature.

Peter’s head is swirling with ideas and thoughts that he’s not sure have any valid place in reality- he nearly bites his tongue when he’s possessed by some inane urge to kiss you. He looks down at his legs, and then back at you, feeling guilty when he just said he cares about you as a person. Maybe he sees it both ways? Maybe he likes you so much that it’s truly intertwined in that emotion that one might describe as love?

Peter’s eyes drift towards your own, and then back to your lips. You feel your face warm- and then your stomach flip flops, and you decide to put an end to it before it gets complicated.

“I’m- uh… I’m gonna just-” You get up and motion to your seat, and he nods, unable to talk about what just happened.

Peter only wakes you up close to when the flight is over. It’s only the two of you in this cabin, and it’s very dark, so you nearly punch him until you realize who it is.

“Jesus, Peter!” You draw your arm back, and he snickers. “What is it?”

“You fell asleep for most of the flight.”

“So you were watching me, creep?” You blink at him, only half joking.

Peter sighs, and leans forward on the balls of his feet.

“This coming from the girl who would stare at me through the window when I was waking up for elementary school every morning?” Peter raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head, laughing.

“That was perfectly innocent.” You snort. “I was just saying hello to my good friend. You.”

He notices that you sound more okay with being his friend again, and he’s glad. You wave at him, making a mockery of how you used to always say hi, and Peter grabs your hand.

He nudges- well, pushes- you to move over on your absolutely massive seat-bed, which was honestly too much space for just you, anyways. And he sits down next to you.

“So?” You try to ignore how Peter’s body is against your own.

“Here.” He hands you a aluminum foil container, that you’re kind of surprised you didn’t see him holding, and you take it. It’s quite heavy.

“You were knocked out cold for a bit, and the flight attendant really didn’t want to leave you hanging with airplane food.” Peter scratches his face. “I know, right? VIP privileges right there.”

“Yeah. There have been plenty of summers us poors have been forgotten back in the economy seats.” You sniff, and Peter laughs.

“So yeah. It’s just your food.” He nods, but you wonder why he’s sitting next to you, and tell him as much.

“Oh, right.” Peter pulls out his phone. “MJ kept texting me about something… just give me a moment…”

At the sound of her name, you feel your heart plummet rapidly.

You try to remind yourself- it’s been almost a decade, and you’re too old to be caring this much about that- plus these are some of your closest friends.

You resist the urge to push Peter away, and yet, you miss what he’s said entirely.

You’re seventeen years old again. You’re sitting outside at a park bench with your friends.

MJ is telling you about how excited she is to go to prom this year- and how she just must find the perfect dress in the most accurate blue-green shade that matches her eyes correctly.

You’re only half listening- you don’t really care all that much about prom. What’s more important is getting into university.

You have your heart set on NYU, and Peter, Empire State. MJ and Har, on the other hand, are leaping headfirst into their careers, MJ with modelling, and Harry taking over a management position at his dad’s company.

You’re not even really thinking about university right now, either. Peter is staring at MJ as she talks to you, her long red tresses of hair bundled into a messy bun, making the perfect halo of copper strands. She looks like a princess of some faraway medieval kingdom- she’s just missing a crown.

Your smile falters as you watch Peter blink, and turn red, unable to tear away his gaze at MJ as she giggles at his not-that-funny joke.

This is so stupid. You think, but your thoughts are barely coherent. I was never even an option for him. Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I have to get upset over every little thing? I just want him to look at me like that. He didn’t do anything wrong…

But you think to yourself that Peter did do something wrong. This whole time, you had started to grow affectionate when he would offer to hold your books, or walk home together from school, or study in the library for finals. He had become exceedingly good looking- no longer wearing his reading glasses, brushing his hair into more of a long, scruffy look, his scrawny teenage body slowly becoming more built into the body of a man- and you find that lately Peter’s brown eyes mean more to you than you used to think.

Perhaps your only mistake was assuming that anything he did was any different from your usual friendship.

The thought sobers you from your internal thrashing. Peter hasn’t really led you on at all, you’re just an idiot with too many feelings.

Peter says something about how MJ’s eyes are more blue than green, and she giggles and widens her eyes so he can take a good look at them and see just how wrong he is. As he leans closer, and closer, his eyes peering into her own as if he’s actually studying the colour and not looking for an excuse to just be near her, you feel sick.

Sick of being ugly, being the weird best friend, being totally boring and just not as cool as MJ. And sick of the unrequited nature of this fondness you feel for Peter- it’s not anyone’s fault, but you wish it just didn’t happen. It’s like an awful joke.

You’re back to the present. Peter has been shaking your shoulder.

“Huh?”

“MJ says she’s really sorry, but she needs to ask us to be at a rehearsal wedding and reception today.” Peter says, and he shows you his phone like it’s nothing. “Something about the Cathedral not being available any other time.”

Like you’re not a creep who wouldn’t immediately check how often he texts MJ.

You take a tiny inhale. Remember how old you are. Remember that Peter does care about you and what’s in the past is in the past. You read the Instagram messages like a normal person.

maryjanewatson: Hey peter!! Can you tell lettie that we’re having the wedding rehearsal today? Like 5 hours after you guys get out the airport

maryjanewatson: So sorry btw, i tried to rearrange it for tmr so u would at least have a day’s rest!! sadly it did not work out.

pbp: yeah that’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell her. We’ll try to be awake :)

You blink. It’s just messages between friends, not even a hint of flirting between them, and then you wonder what the hell is wrong with you that you expected any different. MJ loves Harry- she would never look at another man the same way as she did him- and Peter, regardless of whatever his current feelings were, would always respect that.

“So that’s fine, right?” Peter comments, because you haven’t said anything in a bit and he wonders what you’re zoning out about.

“Yeah, she can’t help that. It’s fine.” You yawn a little. “I wonder what we’ll have to do.”

“Knowing Harry and MJ, it’s going to be a super coordinated affair, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Peter pauses. “At least, I’m sure you’ll be fine. I might trip when walking down the aisle.”

“And who’s arm am I holding?” You nudge him jokingly. “I’ll try to hold you up, Parker.”

Another IG message from MJ pops up before Peter can respond, and you read it before you instinctively tell yourself not to.

maryjanewatson: Oooo, so you guys are tired??? What on EARTH could u two have been doing to be so sleepy, I wonder? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Peter groans, and you- to your credit- start laughing. Cackling, really.

MJ knows how to joke around, so it doesn’t sound nearly as bad in the way she puts it. But you wonder if she’s been teasing Peter a lot, and it makes you feel guilty, that your own silly former crush is making MJ feel the need to play matchmaker.

Peter is amused at your reaction, but he doesn’t know why you’re laughing so hard, and why he cares so much about the reason.

“She doesn’t-” Peter starts, but so do you.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You nod, and Peter nods in solidarity.

You’re glad you can at least form a union on that.

Peter checks out his reflection in his phone screen. “Shit.”

“Huh?”

“This looks pretty bad.” He points to his face, and you see that the bruise still looks shiny and red. “Howlett, you’ve got makeup or something, right? Can’t imagine what Harry and MJ will do when this ruins their pictures.”

“I’m sure it will heal in a day or two.” You say drily, but you still pull out stuff out of your backpack. “Here’s a cream for burns- it’s not really meant for bruises, but it will help with the pain, if you’re feeling anything.”

Peter takes it, and slathers some on, instantly sighing as the cool sensation relieves the heat of the bruise.

“Oh, you just gotta-” You don’t know how to tell Peter that he needs to rub it in, so you do it for him, your fingers gently patting and rubbing the cream into his cheek.

Peter stares at you, and keeps staring even as you look away into your bag again. Your face is warm again, because you forgot just how close you are to him and MJ’s last message really doesn’t help your thoughts here.

But you also just feel a fondness for him, which is nice. It’s nice to be his friend, and take care of him like this- if Peter would let you, you’d do this for the rest of your life.

“Okay, I know this looks odd, but this will draw attention away from the redness.” You pull out a green colour corrector, and Peter nods.

“Colour theory. Nice.” He says drily as you dab little green spots with the doe foot applicator, and then rub his skin.

Peter’s eyes drift from your hand, to your face, to your eyes, and then to your mouth again, and you watch his jaw clench- he visibly swallows and lets you keep going.

You stop when the green has melted into his skin, making it look effortlessly clean and peachy like his natural skin tone, as if nothing had happened.

“Better?” You ask, and Peter looks at his reflection again.

“Better.” Peter says in a significantly more husky tone, and you try your best to ignore the shivers down your spine.

The airport in Florence is pretty ordinary. A modern building with not much appeal inside of it. You, Peter, Logan, May and Ben arrive there around 2 PM, thanks to the time zone difference. You head inside a cute mini bus after a quick chat with the security agents- Peter doesn’t have to punch this guy, as he’s perfectly polite- and it’s off to drive to where the Villa Cetinale will be waiting for you.

Your dad taps your shoulder, and you turn.

“Smile for the camera, kid?” Logan holds up his Canon camera, and you have to laugh at the fact that he takes photography so seriously. There’s a whole Italy album spanning years worth of funny, heartfelt moments.

You nod, and Peter flashes bunny ears behind you as you smile. The next picture is of you shoving him, and Peter laughing.

The wind coming through the shuttle window is relaxing. You find yourself feeling more relaxed, remembering that this is a vacation, and you are supposed to have fun.

“Darn. We didn’t get any Neapolitan pizza.” Peter says, and you tell him that you’re sure you can get some in Florence.

“Really, Howlett? I thought our years of Neapolitan pizza eating would teach you some well-deserved snobbery.”

“Is it going to be that different in Florence?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Peter takes a dramatic pause. “...Yes. Don’t you know anything about the regional differences in food here?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot you were Italian. Apparently.”

As you banter, May and Ben smile to themselves. Thinking just how great it is that you two are finally in cahoots with each other again.

One hour later, an hour you’ve spent mostly napping, as it is, you arrive to the Villa Cetinale, which is in Siena. Despite MJ saying that it wouldn’t be like Florence, you’re uncultured enough that all of Italy feels the same. Peter wakes you up with a tender grasp on your shoulder, and Logan gives the two of you an inquisitive look- which makes Peter drop his hand immediately.

“Oh my god.” Those are your first words as you walk out of the bus, after you’ve thanked the driver that Harry has apparently paid to drop you right off at the Villa Cetinale.

The first thing you see is a gorgeous, lush garden, full of mossy bushes and trees that are snipped into geometric shapes, perfect square and triangles that you can walk through. There are large, marble sculptures covered in vines, and you assume they must be decades if not centuries old, just based on some of the weathering and rough textures.

There are massive flowerpots in between the bushes, containing either shrubbery or pretty, delicate yellow flowers. And at the centre of the land, is a beautiful square, boxy building, looking as large as a mansion, in an off white colour contrasted by green window shutters, somehow both cozy and luxurious in it’s scattered brick exterior. A four pillar opening to an inner loggia (an open patio of sorts) and swirling emblems give the impression of an art piece.

It’s stunning- it looks like a vacation home fit for a royal family.

It totally makes sense why Harry would rent this place for his wedding. Yes, it’s probably obscenely expensive, but you have to admit- it has that soft touch that MJ probably wanted, and it’s very pretty to look at.

The air quality is almost sinfully clean, and you feel a wide smile working it’s way onto your face. The sun is shining, the smell of the soil and path around you is familiar- and you turn to smile at Peter.

“I love Italy.” You beam, and he, for whatever reason, looks away for a moment- if Peter was honest, it’s because you were unexpectedly too cute and he could not handle it- but he turns back towards you and says that he agrees.

“I’m glad we’re back.” Peter comments as you motion for him to come along while you pull your suitcase, and walk down the gravel path towards the door.

It’s kind of a long walk, actually, which tells you how much land this place actually spans. You pass by other smaller buildings- they appear to be sheds, or perhaps homes for the servants of the villa, you can’t be sure- and as you walk, you turn just to take in your surroundings. There’s loads of forest spanning both the front and back of the villa.

When you reach the front gate of the villa, MJ pops out of the front door immediately, swinging through the patio chairs and tables between the pillars. She’s wearing a bright coral sundress that somehow does not clash with her red hair, and she’s also wearing big, white framed sunglasses, which make her look even more famous.

You think she and Harry will raise a great nepo baby someday, just based on the current vibes you’re getting. You wonder if you’ll be an adequate aunt.

“Lettie, Peter! Buongiorno!” She runs towards you guys, and hugs you both. MJ is a pretty firm hugger- you feel squeezed lovingly, and it’s as if she didn’t see you recently- and she pulls back with a gasp.

“We need to talk about your guys’ outfits. It’s too…” She trails off.

“Poor?” You try, and MJ laughs but shakes her head.

“Casual?” Peter attempts, and MJ sort of nods at that, giving him the point of her finger.

“Yes. Casual sounds about right. No worries, we’ve got tons of clothes for you guys to try on here.” MJ takes a moment to hug Logan, and then May and Ben, and then motions for you to follow her.

“MJ’s gonna make us over until we’ve become little signores and signoras she can be proud of.” Peter whispers as you enter through the pillars of the Villa, into a large foyer with sloping ceilings and elaborate tile work.

“I heard that.” MJ says, cheerfully so. “I don’t mind if you guys want to wear your own clothes- it was just a humble suggestion.”

“That’s coming from you. A total bridezilla?” You ask, only half-joking, and MJ�� despite how happy MJ always seems to be, she seems to crack a little here, and then she snorts and laughs loudly.

“I needed that. Needed a laugh. I’m so glad you guys are here. I am so tired of playing up the role of future Mrs. Osborn.” She admits rather candidly, and Logan gets a wary look on his face.

“Don’t mean to intrude, but… isn’t that bad if you’re going to be that for the rest of your life?” He says with nearly no tact, and you gasp, affronted.

“Dad!” You scoff at him, while MJ’s smile trembles a little, as she flinches. “She didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, I took it more like, it’s hard to be the lady-in-charge of the Villa and all the wedding planning and stuff, right, MJ?” Peter asks, and she nods a little too eagerly.

“Y-Yeah. Exactly.” MJ sighs, and then tells a servant standing nearby to take your suitcases to your rooms. “I’m sorry… just give me a moment.”

She walks through the main hall, and through the back door, probably into the vast garden of the back.

Peter winces. You glare at Logan.

“What, Lettie?” Logan crosses his arms, getting that grumpy I-know-better-than-you look. “People always need honesty, even if they don’t want to hear it.”

“Not if we don’t know the whole situation, Dad.” You roll your eyes, and Peter doesn’t want to comment on this, but he feels that you’re right. He’s just really bad at coming between you and Logan- he’s afraid of what Logan will say to him, and he really can’t risk losing the hard-earned friendship he’s spent literally decades cultivating with Logan.

Peter just hopes you won’t be annoyed that he’s not defending you in this moment.

“Do we want to go talk to her?” He asks gently, and you hear the usage of we, like a couple, and fail to respond for a moment.

“Let’s give her a minute and then go.”

Ben and May are the first to agree with you, kind of- they still have the older mentality of telling it like it is. Still, Ben thinks highly of MJ and Harry, and he tells you as much.

“I always thought those two were on the same page.” Ben tuts, flipping through one of the many books that the main hall offers for you to read. “It’s probably just pre-wedding jitters.”

“Lord knows we had them.” May giggles suddenly, and Ben chuckles at that. “I thought Ben was going to leave me when I started crying about the ring being a little too loose.”

“You just weren’t eating, May.” Ben reminds her. “You must’ve lost… like ten pounds or something like that, it’s no wonder the engagement ring was sliding off.”

The thought that MJ isn’t eating because of nerves, combined with that strict modelling regime needed to stay hot and skinny, strikes you suddenly, and you tug on Peter’s arm.

“We should go talk to her now.” You say, fear becoming apparent in your voice. You’re worried- Peter can see that clearly in your eyes- because you do remember how frazzled MJ seemed to be, just on the edges, throughout your bridesmaid dress appointment, and that lunch where she just picked at a salad… and how often she checked at her phone, with a disappointed glance, which she quickly covered over with a smile.

You feel like the worst friend. You hadn’t really noticed that MJ needed someone, and you need to be there for her now.

It’s easy to be distracted by all the pretty interior design of the villa, and even as you step through the backyard doors, into the outside, there are more beautiful marble statues, two twin staircases that lead to the second floor of the villa, and many more trees and bushes- you think you can see the famed lemon garden here- but you assert yourself to stay focused on MJ.

Peter walks quickly, not just to keep up with you, but because he’s worried, since you are. You have pretty good judgement of most emotional situations- in fact everyone usually comes to you for advice. So Peter knows your opinion is valuable, and he’s really hoping MJ is okay.

She’s sitting on a white garden chair, under an umbrella, in the shade. Her hair looks like a deep auburn- and it just makes her seem more sombre.

MJ’s drinking a lightly iced tea, and you can already guess there’s no sugar in there.

“Hey, Mary Jane…” You touch her shoulder, and she tries her best to smile at you.

“Lettie.” She sighs, a deep sigh embittered with pent up sadness, and you wonder why. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been nicer to you guys… what a horrible start to your vacation.”

“We don’t care about that.” You start, and Peter thinks about the use of we, too, but he quickly brushes that aside. “Just… are you okay to tell us what’s wrong?

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Peter says, and he sits down next to her, and you do, too.

MJ breathes in. Shuts her eyes. And then squeezes a wedge of lemon into her tea.

“It’s not a big deal, at all. It’s just me being silly, I swear.” She suddenly, violently squishes the lemon, and lemon pulp splatters onto the table.

You wince, and give Peter a look. He knows what you mean- things are not well.

“Who am I kidding?” MJ scoffs at herself, and her normally pristine complexion is harsh, red with stress. She’s becoming Tomato MJ. “The wedding planning is a lot, yeah. But even worse- someone went behind my back for next year’s New York Fashion Week, and now I might not be able to secure a designer to model for, and Harry isn’t responding to my texts, and I have no idea why because he’s usually always ready to talk to, and it feels like… it feels like… like I’m alone?”

Her voice breaks, and she bursts into tears.

“Oh, MJ…” You hug her, and she cries as she holds onto you, her eyelashes becoming wet with big, fat tears. Her head quickly finds that gap between your shoulder and neck- and it’s as if no time has passed, again, because you feel like that gap was made for this friendship. You remember all the times you’ve hugged her, and you hope you’re still providing the same comfort.

MJ sniffs, and Peter gently pats her back. He feels like you’ve got it covered- he gives you a thumbs up and you give him a sheepish smile.

“It’s just… I’m not mad at anyone, I just wonder why no one is talking to me.” She wipes a tear away as she lets you go, and you listen carefully. “Why no one seems to want to communicate. Like, fuck, how am I supposed to do the right thing if I don’t know what it is?”

MJ’s comment cuts deep, and you feel like you’ve been in that situation a lot. With Peter, you’re never sure where your standing is with him.

“Listen. I know it’s not the best advice, but you just gotta hang in there, okay?” You hold her hand, and MJ nods, wiping her face a little more vigorously. “It’s frustrating, but soon you’ll find out who did what and for what reason. No need to freak about all the unknowns right now, because they’re just unknowns.”

“Okay. That’s true.” MJ agrees, but she’s still got a hint of worry on her face, and Peter can see that.

“And me and Howlett will help with all the wedding stuff. Promise.” He swears, and MJ’s face brightens. “Maybe we can also help you with the New York Fashion Week thing? What exactly happened there?”

“Oh…” MJ plays with the hem of her dress. “Someone sent my usual designer at Dior an email… and they were already doing a huge favour by taking on someone like me, y’know? I’m not very well known in the model space yet. So the email was accusing me of using connections from Harry to be in the model industry… and as far as I know, Dior is looking into it seriously because they don’t take kindly to frauds using their model-in-training funds.”

“But that’s total bullshit!” You exclaim, and MJ and Peter both look towards you as you start talking. “You must have in your proof of records that Harry didn’t do anything like that for you, right? You started off pretty small, I remember, it was for a local show.”

“Howlett’s right.” Peter nods, affirmative. “We can both look into your history- if that’s okay, MJ- and prove to whoever did this that they’re wrong. And you won’t be booted.”

“I don’t know… it does seem kind of suspicious since I’m marrying him and all.” MJ says, but she immediately shakes herself out of it. “No, you guys are right. I worked hard.”

“You did.” You nod, and then MJ takes on a more suspicious, dark look.

“I think it was one of my friends.” She admits, and Peter looks to you, but you don’t know them either, so you give him an unfamiliar glance. “One of the models that will be here on Wednesday. Elektra, Wanda, Kitty, Bucky, or Nat. Nat and Kitty are already on Dior with me, so that leaves Bucky, Elektra, or Wanda. And I’m pretty sure they were on the shortlist to make it for New York Fashion Week.”

Peter grins. “This is easy. Right?”

It takes you a second but you clue in. “Oh my god, yeah. MJ, you wouldn’t happen to still have the email, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“We can trace back the IP address of the email ID that sent it.” Peter squeezes your hand from across the table, and it’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by MJ. “Howlett and I, we’re really good at coding and shit- we’re techie kids and all that, right- so it can’t take more than a day, I swear.”

“I believe you.” MJ smiles. “I’m just wondering when you got all sweet on Lettie, and suddenly decided to hold her hand.”

Peter lets go, kind of dramatically, but his hand twitches for a moment, grazing over your own palm before moving back.

“Can friends not hold hands?” You ask timidly, but MJ gives you such a suggestive look that you’re laughing.

“Okay. No more drama, you guys.” MJ laughs too, shakes her head, and stands up off her chair, into the sunlight. “We should have fun before the rehearsal today. What do you want to do?”

“Whaddya have in mind?” Peter throws right back at her, and she gets another mischievous look on her face.

It’s a very lovely bakery next to the corner store in a teeny village, just a , with loads of different kinds of gelato and ice creams and crepes and tiramisu and biscotti and panna cotta.

Of course MJ would consider this bad, considering that she’s not allowed to eat anything so unhealthy usually. But she’s excited, she’s saying that she deserves a bit of a break for the wedding. You wholeheartedly agree with her.

“But guys, I swear, you two need to let loose and party a little. I’m gonna make everyone drink and party like crazy this week- this is definitely not the extent of our festivities.” MJ chirps excitedly, and pays the cashier while telling him to keep the change.

You sit outside on the patio, looking at a cobblestone street full of Italians and tourists alike.l.

Peter takes a bite of his gelato. It’s a rich, smooth raspberry flavour, and you knew he was going to get it. It’s one of your usual Florentine traditions.

MJ got a new cheesecake tiramisu- apparently sacrilege to the Food Gods of Italy, as the cashier told her he got yelled at by a couple of Nonnas earlier- but she loves it, absolutely grins at the flavours melting on her tongue.

“Better than NYC cheesecake?” You ask, and she nods, taking another massive spoonful. You’re glad to see that MJ is eating, and she definitely seems less stressed.

“Who says tech kids don’t party?” Peter starts, and MJ laughs as he becomes a little offended. “No, really. We might work hard but we still like having fun. Right, Howlett?”

“Is this fun you speak of just between you two?” MJ asks teasingly, but Peter’s face turns red and she lets it go. “Really. This week shouldn’t just be blah blah wedding stuff. I want to make sure we’re all having fun and doing things we want to do.”

You take a bite of your own basil-mint gelato, in a very appealing light green colour. The flavour might not sound good, but it’s really like a refreshing, minty sorbet, not that savoury at all. Just herby.

“Can we choose what to do?” You ask, but MJ is just waving your question away.

“You don’t even have to ask. We’ll try to do anything you guys want.” MJ beams. “And don’t even worry about the other guests- there’s no strict itinerary in place other than our dinner parties, so they probably will want to do other things, and they definitely can.”

“Whoa, whoa, Howlett.” Peter suddenly holds up a finger. “You’ve just got some sprinkles on your face…”

Peter reaches out with a thumb and gently swipes the edge of your lip, and your cheek,and some sprinkles fall off towards the ground. Then, in the most disgustingly lascivious, possibly slutty, kind of perverted way that only Peter could do, he sucks on his thumb.

“Hm. Minty.” He grins, popping his thumb back out, and it takes all of your willpower not to retort back, because Peter has been like this for ages and you refuse to believe that it’s genuine flirting.

MJ looks between the two of you, having trouble believing that you’re both so oblivious.

When you just make it back to the Villa, there’s a lot of splashing, and some loud Italian electronic music playing in the front yard. MJ rolls her eyes, but she smiles. “That must be Harry.”

MJ waves him down, and Harry swims upward, glad to see a few familiar faces.

“Lettie, Peter, it’s me!” Harry pulls himself up off the ledge of the pool, and he looks just as rich-boy-tired-but-chic as you’ve always remembered. Those heavy eyebags have never gone away. He’s sopping wet as he hugs you guys, drenching you both in tons of water.

“Ugh- Har, are you serious-”

“Yeah, Harry!” Peter shoves him lightly. “We’re totally wet now.”

“Yeah, but you guys love it.” Harry snickers. “What the hell are you wearing, anyways? Where’s the Italian finery? Do I need to call a maid over to help-”

“Oh, god, don’t get started on that, please.” Peter pinches his brow, with a small smile because he knows his friend. “We’ll change now, okay?”

“In that case-” Harry shoves Peter, who falls and bumps into you, and you both fall into the pool, water immersing you quite quickly. The blue ceramic tiles of the pool fill your vision, and you kick upwards. You resurface, and pull your hair back, panting, and Peter is shaking his hair, trying to get it out of his face.

“You okay?” Peter asks immediately, and you have to fight down the thought that of course that would be the first thing Peter would say, and you nod.

“We just gotta get this clown back for that.” You lean forwards, and tug Harry’s ankle, which causes him to fall in with a splash, too.

“Now you guys are having fun, damn it.” Harry splutters when he resurfaces. “I missed you guys.”

It’s very touching, but now you have to actually go change and shower when you just wanted to rest a bit before the rehearsal, and that’s a tad bit annoying. Just like Harry usually is- but you can’t help but like him anyways.

Harry tries to hug MJ as you all walk towards the villa- and she rebukes him, holding her hands out and saying that her dress will be ruined if it gets wet. Harry instead places a sopping wet kiss on her forehead, and she groans loudly, but you know she likes it. It still makes you feel a little alone- being a third wheel.

Well, at least Peter is one, too.

What’s distracting you is how Peter’s shirt seems to cling to his waist when it’s wet, and you can’t help but stare, seeing taut stomach muscles through the damp parts of his shirt. You shake your head and wonder why everyone had to turn hot except for you.

When you step out of the shower, just in a white terrycloth towel, MJ is waiting at your bed, and you flinch for a moment.

“Jesus!” You start, and then see her smiling. “Next time just tell me you’re gonna be in here, or knock or something.”

“Will do.” MJ stares at her nails. “Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the rehearsal?”

“Not really.”

“It’s a informal-formal affair. I guess semi-formal.” MJ tells you, as you start getting ready for it. “I’ve picked out a few dresses you can wear.”

There’s a few dresses crowded around in the massive wardrobe when you look, but the first one that catches your eyes is a lovely deep yellow, with embroidered white flowers through our the ruched bustier and long skirt, and very teeny spaghetti straps. It matches your bedroom, strangely enough, since the walls are a nice pale yellow hue, and the canopy over your four-pillar bed is a pretty ivory shade.

When you’ve tried it on, MJ immediately starts clapping.

“Chill out, I’ve barely even tried it on properly!” You say sheepishly, fixing the skirt so it flows out better, and she giggles.

“It just looks beautiful on you.” She asserts, not a hint of irony or wit or any sort of sardonic tone in her voice, and you sigh, knowing that MJ doesn’t lie about fashion.

“Thanks.” You are still bad at taking compliments, and she knows, so she doesn’t take offense.

MJ wordlessly slides a very, very nice weighty gold bangle on your wrist, and before you can express that it’s too much, she gently tells you it’s a special gift for her maid of honour.

“Oh.” You grin. “I wonder if Peter gets anything similar?”

“Depends on if Harry actually tried.” MJ sniffs, somewhat jokingly.

After a bit of makeup (MJ tells you that in Italy you only need a sheer, glowy base like a bit of concealer or a skin tint, a lip and cheek tint, and maybe a little more eyeliner and mascara than usual since that’s what the style is here, and you’re wondering if you’ve been secretly Italian this whole time with this extremely natural, less-is-more look) and some small heels because you know you’ll never be able to rock the 6-inch heels that MJ does as a model, you’re now waiting downstairs.

MJ is wearing a corset sundress, with more elaborate ribbon straps tying the dress tightly across her waist, and the pattern reminds you of those blue-and-white china plates. She looks amazing, of course, and she’s donned a practice veil, apparently not the real thing.

MJ is explaining something about what you’re supposed to do as you walk in the church, but you’re not really listening, because Peter has just walked down the steps from his side of the Villa, towards the main hall. Where you and MJ are sitting on one of the couches.

He’s absentmindedly fixing his hair, not really paying attention to where he’s walking, and he just looks unfairly good. Like MJ-level modelesque, and you feel your breath catch in your throat for a moment. Peter’s wearing a basil green button up top, and casual khaki dress pants, and even though you always teased him for getting sunburned easily as you grew up together, somehow these colours are matching his complexion perfectly, making his skin have a golden hue that you swear you’ve never noticed before.

You bite your lip and look at the ground, unable to really look at him.

“Hey. Is the car here yet?” Peter asks, and you shake your head. MJ has a laugh deep in her throat, just threatening to come out.

You wish you weren’t so obvious.

“Anyways. Like I was trying to say, except Lettie really wasn’t listening.” MJ taps her acrylics against the little side table next to her, and Peter nods, listening.

He’s a little distracted, too- that shade of yellow somehow complements your complexion exactly, and something about you looks glowy and ethereal in a way that Peter doesn’t think you looked like back in NYC, but then he feels weirdly defensive and wants to think that you’ve always looked pretty, and then he internally fumes at the idea that he has always been attracted to you, and is only noticing now, apparently? That can’t be true, right? He’s not that dumb, right?

He decides he’s just going to blame something in Italy’s air.

The car honks outside, and you stand up, ready to go. Peter stands up a little too quickly too- and he bumps into you, and you fall a teeny bit forward, and Peter’s hand grasps around your wrist, steadying you.

“Thanks.” You smile up at him, and Peter feels a disgusting amount of affection.

The wedding rehearsal goes on pretty easily, if not for the fact that everyone seems to be distracted by how beautiful the Florence Cathedral is. You tell Peter as much, and he looks wistfully up to the tall domed ceiling, and down back at you, holding your gaze for a little too long, and agrees that it is beautiful.

You have no idea why every conversation with Peter seems to make you feel soft.

MJ’s mother, Madeline, and Harry’s mother, Emily, both walk down the aisle first, and they do so easily- you hadn’t seen them when you arrived, but it turns out they were out shopping all day, so here they are now. It is crazy how much Madeline you can see in MJ’s face. Harry, on the other hand, must take after his father.

Then it’s Harry’s father, Norman, the absolutely intimidating CEO who you really hope isn’t as terrifying as all your colleague buddies have said. Everyone’s who’s ever interviewed at Oscorp knows what they mean. He’s not here in Italy yet, obviously on important Oscorp business, so you breathe a teeny sigh of relief for that.

After that, it’s Harry, who walks down with a bit more of a strut than necessary… the priest side eyes him.

Then it’s time for the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Gayle, MJ’s sister, isn’t here, and neither is Gwen, Betty, or the groomsmen- it seems that they’ll all be here Tuesday, with MJ’s model friends as well. You feel a bit bad for her, because so far it only seems like you and Peter’s families are the only extended people really cared to show up at this point, but that’s what happens with destination weddings sometimes. Not everyone can take time off, just like that.

Then it’s time for you and Peter to walk down the aisle. He raises his arm for you to hold onto, and walks at a pace that’s pretty slow, which is what MJ wanted so photographers could take good pictures of everyone. It’s kind of funny- you feel like a kid again, when you and Peter would have to pose at Logan’s insistence for pictures.

Even now, Logan is snapping pictures as he sits in a pew, and it feels like a long walk until you reach the front of the altar, where everyone else is.

Peter is warm, and he smells good- some kind of citrusy soap that makes you think of the lemon gardens in front of the Villa.

“Hey, Howlett.” Peter whispers from gritted teeth. “Nice bracelet. Did that cost half your paycheque, or what?”

“Uh, no. MJ got it for me.” You snort under your breath as you walk, and Peter nods with an approving look.

“I guess we’re matching. Harry did the same thing.” Peter tugs his sleeve slightly, and shows off his own gold chain bracelet. Whereas yours looks feminine and dainty, delicate in how it hangs on your wrist, Peter’s is significantly more masculine, with chain links and a more rugged detail running through them. Still, it does scream matching, and you have to think MJ and Harry did it on purpose.

You tell yourself it’s just a friendship thing. Or a maid of honour-best man thing.

Peter feels soft, reliable to hold onto- you don’t want to let go when you’ve reached the altar. But you do, because you have to go to the side where the bridesmaids are supposed to be standing.

As you make your standing there, Peter does a tiny little wave at you, and smiles, and you do, too.

You watch as MJ sashays down the aisle with her father- he’s been napping all day- but you wonder if the bride should be acting like a model, exactly? It’s not that she doesn’t look amazing, it’s just not very churchlike.

MJ stops herself halfway down, looking somewhat irritated at herself. “Wait- nope, I’m starting over. Sorry, daddy.”

She begins again, holding onto her father’s arm, and this time, it’s a slow walk that demonstrates what a shy, blushing bride MJ can be, and you know if she really wanted to, she could be an actress.

You catch Harry looking at her, with a wistful smile- but Peter looks rather fond of her too, and you can’t decide if it’s just friendship, or if he wishes she was his.

You wonder if anyone will ever look at you like that. Just as you look away, Peter shoots a glance at you, hoping that you notice.

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sugarfluffandallthatgoodstuff · 8 months

Text

To the Floor, From the rat

Sukuna x Reader crack

@kmayafk and @ari-tart-3114 helped out with this

By: 3 crackheads (HAHA! YOU THOUGHT IT WAS ONE BUTS ITS ACTUALLY dio- i mean THREE 👹)

Disclaimer: dangerous amounts of crack ahead. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED hehehe 👹. totally scary topics like rats with…penis??

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Summary: you are Sukuna’s maid and you’re paid to clean his enormous penthouse (and maybe something ELSE enormous but who really knows 👀).

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Good god not the floors again!

Why does Master Sukuna always have me clean the floors?! Like, I could be cleaning literally anything else, but it’s always the floors *cries*.

Maybe he just wants to see my non-existent ass? Who fucking knows at this point.

I rarely see the guy too. It's always a little rear glimpse here and maybe a sliver of hair there

He only tells me these things via text too, like I’ve never heard his voice. The other maids are starting to spread rumors around him.

Some say he’s like ultra hot but an absolute dick but also that he’s like incredibly smart and doesn’t fuck around (his bedsheets really do beg to differ though, like good god the amount of cum stains on his bedspread)

He’s been having female visitors and it always ends with the woman crying and running away (coward).

Some of the maids say his female visitors run away purely from seeing how enormous his cock is. Some even say it's because he continues till the visitor faints, even after they say no.

Another says they run away from his expectations and are only there for their own pleasure

So now he just goes to hotels and such because why bring those women to his house and waste his time

Oh geez, thinking about Master Sukuna made me go toward his room.

Though I know he isn’t home and he didn’t ask me to clean up his room but hey what could be the harm though there’s still flooring in there so technically…

So now I find myself in his room with my jaw hitting the floor with how large it is. I look around more and find a wall full of pictures of women with “x” marks on them.

Is he “thank you next” ing them?!?!

Before I can process, I see a small stash of pictures of the maids.

Oh no, oh no. He isn't-

“And who gave you permission to enter my room?”

I turn around and see him.

Sukuna.

“The floor gang!” I shouted at the strange unfamiliar man, supposedly the master of this house. It was almost as if a quest to get fired popped up.

Sukuna closed his eyes and sighs. He grabs a cigarette and proceeds to smoke. I look at him, wondering if he is going to fire me, or worse.

It was then a tiny little furball scampered across the room. It seemed to be a screaming kitten that appears to have fallen into a trashcan as he was covered in trash.

“QUICK GET THAT RAT” Sukuna screamed, causing me to jolt.

“But master Sukuna why would you have a cat and not see it as such?”I chased the supposed kitten, now fearing for my life.

As I tried to pounce on it, the kitten screamed out a weird noise. “SHEEEEEEESHH”

“Jeez you can’t even catch a small cat, what the fuck did I hire you for again?!?!”

“To make vegan eggs”

“Oh yes. You do make a pretty bussin vegan omlette”

Sukuna laughs, but then realizes something. “Wait…What even the fuck is a vegan omlette?”

“A spicy version of connect 4” I answered snarkily.

“i-I what?”

Sukuna begins to look at me confused, but proceeds to keep his composure.

“Don’t change the subject. Why were you in my room?”

“Well you see…” I looked around the room for an excuse and for a moment I didn’t have one

But catching sight of a statue on the floor that was clearly soiled. “That. I had to clean that, it’s clearly a biohazard.” “This?” Sukuna picks up the statue, showing some sort of mythical creature, a groundhog perhaps? No. A rat. Some will say it is a rat penis.

“Y-yes sir it looked like it made a mess everywhere sir”

“There is no need.” He quickly pocketed the questionable statue. “But since you’re here, I have a favor to ask of you…”

Ooooooh is it finally happening?!?! The moment all of us maids have been waiting for?!?!

“Can you draw what exactly a rat penis is??”

OH WHAT THE HECK??

Before I can even say anything, the world around me begins to fade away. My eyes start to feel exhausted.

“Why am I feeling so… sleepy?”

“I see the drug is finally taking its effect on you”

I look at him, and gasp in shock. No way, how in tarnation was he able to drug me while we talked about the rat penis?

“WHEN DID YOU HAVE TIME TO DRUG ME WHAT THE FUCK?”

“By the very statue that led you here. It was diffusing sleep powder into the air that only works on scrubs like yourself.” Sukuna grinned over my collapsed form on the ground.

I start to feel very dizzy. The last thing i see is Sukuna’s smirking face.

“You shouldn’t have come in here naughty pet”

“Now put these on” He held out a headband with some strange animal ears along with a long pink tail clip thing.

Funny how he thinks I have the strength to do so

LE TIMESKIP

I wake up, for some reason, very sore,

My neck.

My back.

WHY AM I SORE. AND WAIT A MINUTE….

AM I WEARING A RAT COSTUME??

AND TIED UP TO THE BED?!?!?

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS

AM I A RAT OR AM I A LADY?!?

I notice a piece of paper next to the bed lamp. The paper said.

Once a rat, always a rat.

I fume in anger.

“Ah, it seems you’ve finally awakened” The monster I've come to know as Sukuna walks in, with the most punchable look on his face. If only I wasn’t tied up like this, I’d send this jerk flying.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MAN. I WAS DRUGGED AND YOU DO THIS TO ME? AND WHY IS MY BACK SORE?”

“It’s not my fault you hit the ground too hard.” {hehe you thought us 3 did something there} He walks over with an intense stare especially at the rat costume.

I close my eyes. I look at the handcuffs, and rip it from the bed.

“You really thought this was going to contain me?” mistake number 1 as I would later find out

“This is what it means to go even further beyond!” I charge at Sukuna, not caring for the consequences. “PLUS ULTRA” I swung as hard as I could, but at the last second my back gave out and I became like a worm on the floor writhing in pain. And he dodged it

“Pathetic. Did you expect me to praise you?”

I look at him and give him a matching grin

“No, but look what I have”

I grab the same drug he used on me. His eyes go wide

“Wait-”

I spray it on him and he immediately goes to sleep.

I make sure that he is asleep and immediately run out of the room. I grab my things from the servant quarters and run for it. Various maids looked on as I ran, I realized that I am still wearing the rat costume (AHHH SHIIIIIT).

I then realize that I am like all those other women he fucks with, except dressed like a rat. I cannot be in a room with that… monster.

But is it cowardly to quit? Maybe. Is it the best option for the time being? Yes.

It truly is a shame he’s hot. During our encounter I noticed many MMA awards on his walls on that luscious deep red paint coat.

“I see the rat has found my awards” It was as if Sukuna had teleported behind me.

I jump. HOW THE FUCK WAS HE AWAKE AND I HAD CRASHED?!

“Using my very own rat penis against me… Perhaps you are the one I’ve always been searching for.” With a swift grasp, he grabbed me like a potato sack, but more like a rat sack…

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MAN” I fought against him, pulling his hair like a child.

He pulled me into an embrace, not letting me go.

“You really gotta tone down the rat fetish man”

Sukuna’s grin only widened. “You sure are feisty. I think I’ll keep you, my little rat.” He isn’t fazed in the slightest by my attacks.

I try to think of a smart remark to say back, but I can’t. This weird feeling I am having cannot be described in words.

“You can keep me, but the rats gotta go,” I blurted out without thinking.

“...”

“So you’re saying I can keep you?” Sukuna’s eyes glistened mischievously. Surely he was plotting something to get his way, after all he firmly believed in his favorite quote: “Once a rat, always a rat”.

“NO GET YOUR STUPID RAT PENIS OUT OF MY FACE”

He grabs me by the waist and carries me bridal style (insert wedding music)

Afraid of falling, I instinctively clutched onto him, which caused Sukuna to have the most annoying grin on his face. At this point, I’d much rather be dropped. Afterall the floor is basically my home in this accursed place.

“So my little rat…” Sukuna looked down at me, “Where to next?”

I look at Sukuna.

“The Floor, you dumb rat”

“Who’s the rat now?” I cackle.

The end fool.

Or not 👀.

69 likes and it could happen.

The retuuuuurn of the raaat

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader crack #peak fiction #peak comedy #peak crack

13 notes · View notes

schroedingers-dylan · 2 years

Text

I feel like we as a fandom don’t take advantage of Kaitlyn and Jacob being childhood friends enough so drop any amount of headcanons for them growing up.

I’ll start:

-They live in the same street and their parents are close friends. They both grew up as the only child in the household so they’d always play with each other when they were little.

-They’ve known each other since they were in diapers and have about a bazillion embarrassing childhood photos of the other. Favorites include: child Jacob hanging upside down from the fridge in a Spider-Man costume (and the aftermath of him lying on the floor when he fell off), the time kid Kaitlyn tried to look cool in front of Jacob’s extended family but ended up falling into his pool fully clothed and the time they messed around with water colors and ended up covered in them top to bottom. Also those including several different sets of animal pajamas.

-They’ve had approximately a million sleepovers growing up, and sleeping in bed next to each other is just the most normal thing ever for them.

-Kaitlyn is super messy and Jacob is the tidiest person ever so this drives him crazy. When he’s over at her house he always starts cleaning up her room and it drives her crazy because there (supposedly) is a system to her chaos and if he cleans up she can’t find her stuff anymore. I can’t even explain why but this is just a vibe I’m getting from them.

-When they were younger, Kaitlyn was the taller one. Jacob was a super scrawny kid. After his growth spurt, it took ages for the rest of his features to catch up.

-Jacob was the first person Kaitlyn came out to as bi.

-People have been assuming they’re dating since they were twelve.

-Surprisingly, them making out in freshman year did not help these rumors.

-Jacob has called Kaitlyn in the middle of the night several times to ask her to come get a spider out of his room. She usually obliges but always teases him relentlessly about it.

-Jacob is on their high school football team. Kaitlyn goes to every game but consistently pretends she doesn’t know/understand the rules because it annoys the shit out of him.

-As much as Kaitlyn teases Jacob, the second anyone tries to put him down for being an emotional person because that’s “girly” or something equally stupid they get verbally obliterated. One of the guys she did it to hasn’t even dared to look in Jacob’s general direction for years.

-Kaitlyn is super bad at putting herself first. She’s the kind of group mom that makes sure everyone else is well-rested and has eaten and then collapses because she’s slept three hours over the last two days. Jacob knows her well enough to recognize the signs and sits her the fuck down to make sure she’s okay too because she herself sure as hell won’t do it.

-They have each other‘s stuff all over their rooms, a combination of intentionally stored and forgotten there over the years.

-Kaitlyn is an absolute menace when it comes to food. She will try anything and everything. The type to order Creole Tomato at an ice cream parlor. Has been trying to bait Jacob into getting one of her weird flavors for years. He keeps rejecting her in favor of ordering chocolate for the millionth time.

-Despite his extreme and very vocal loathing for Kaitlyn’s taste in food, he still makes sure they have flaming hot dill pickle chips whenever they have a movie night. He’s a good best friend like that.

-They ended up in different crowds in high school due to him being on the football team and her being in the robotics club. They still always made time for each other and are each other’s number one person to go to when they’re excited about something or need to vent.

-Neither of them is a morning person. Jacob isn’t a morning person in the sense that his brain doesn’t function properly, Kaitlyn isn’t a morning person in the sense that heads will roll at the slightest inconvenience. They take turns driving to school and paying for coffee.

-Their taste in music is totally incompatible. Instead of compromising and making a playlist with each of them picking half the songs, they made one together titled “favorites of yours that don’t make me want to rip my ears off.”

-They have Disney movie nights regularly. Jacob started that tradition when they were kids and they’ve kept it up since with very few exceptions. They’ve already agreed to keep them up when at college (either in person or via video call depending on which colleges they end up with).

-Being camp counselors was Kaitlyn’s idea, an opportunity to spend one last summer together before they go off to college. They’ve both been camping before (separately and also together) and really enjoyed it and Jacob loves kids (he has a bunch of younger cousins, maybe a baby brother too, haven’t decided yet) so it being a good time was basically a given.

-Jacob teased her relentlessly for picking scheduling, out of all the jobs she could’ve done at camp.

-They drove to camp together, taking Kaitlyn’s car. Jacob loaded their stuff into the trunk and organized it because *spacial awareness* and Kaitlyn told him he’s being ridiculous since they only had like maybe four bags total but let him do it anyway.

#they are so important to me #the promised not-a-shitpost #the quarry #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #the quarry Jacob #the quarry Kaitlyn #the quarry headcanons #supermassive games #kaitlyn x jacob #feel free to read this as shippy or not by the way #whatever you feel comfortable with #I’m a sucker for childhood friends to lovers but I also think they are very neat platonically so #the main point I’m making here is that I need more content featuring them in general #for context I do not think they made out in front of anyone since that defeats the purpose of kissing practice #but I feel like one of them casually mentioned it at one point and everyone else was like ‘uhhhh’#can’t believe Emma doesn’t canonically tease them about this if she finds out that is a crime

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medea10 · 2 months

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My Review of Rurouni Kenshin (2023)

If you grew up in the 1990s and early 2000s, chances are you’ve come across this title.

Rurouni Kenshin’s original anime aired in Japan from 1996-1998. It managed to make it out west with being licensed by Media Blasters and aired on Cartoon Network’s Toonami block in the early 2000s. With 95 episodes to its name, Rurouni Kenshin was pretty popular everywhere. In later years, a couple of OVA’s were released. One of them was a prequel that was never seen outside of the manga. The second one was a sequel to the main series that goes in a different route from the manga. And the third was a retelling of one of the series best moments.

And just laying it out there, yes, this series is sadly also known as “Samurai X”. I say “sadly” due to what was done to the series with that name. What with the bastardization of people’s names and what have you! The name of the series is Rurouni Kenshin. If you see that other name, turn around and don’t look back.

Now, does this series live up to the hype? Yes and no. While this was one of Japan’s most rewatched animes of all time, the series could have been better. Pretty much everything after what is known as the Kyoto Arc is seen as garbage to many. In some cases, they’re not wrong. It’s just a sea of fillers until the series ended in 1998. I guess some of the blame could be that they changed studio hands during the run of the original anime. Studio Deen has such a lousy reputation for messing with a good thing.

Case and point, Rozen Maiden 2013!

It’s just that when Kenshin gets into the swing of things, it’s a thrill to watch. So, having a retelling of the story and have it be faithful to the manga is welcoming for long-time fans and curious newbies.

Just. One. Thing. Though.

THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM: Nobuhiro Watsuki is the creator of Rurouni Kenshin. Back in late 2017 while he was releasing more Rurouni Kenshin in manga form, it was discovered that he was in possession of child pornography. This news alone is an immediate red flag, drop everything, cancel this bro right stat now kind of thing. What happened was he was arrested, paid a fine, and went back to releasing his manga after a several-month hiatus.

Obviously, everything about the story is disgusting. I’m not sure how much child porn was removed from this man’s place but I feel like it was somewhere between what Jared Fogle had and a fuck-ton. And now every fan is having this moral dilemma of watching this anime if it’s supporting this man. When it comes to me, fuck yeah, I’m still watching it. Do you have any idea how many things I still watch where the original creator is a fuck-bucket? And don’t lie, you probably do the same. Ren and Stimpy, The Loud House, Rick & Morty, Earthworm Jim, all of these and more are the product of some sick ass-banana. Just keep that in mind before tossing stones. You all know who you are and you all aren’t squeaky clean in what you watch. None of us are.

In the end, it’s your call to make on watching this or reading anything else that comes from Watsuki. Certain companies have made their call already when it comes to Rurouni Kenshin. Weekly Shounen Jump still prints whatever Watsuki puts out. Viz Media however has put an end to the latest Rurouni Kenshin manga that’s been put out in the last few years, but has kept the original manga up.

OKAY, NOW LET’S ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT THE ANIME: I know it’s a lot to go over, I just felt it necessary to do the frank discussion before I talk about the anime. This anime is a full reboot. That means, it’ll be a different studio animating it, it will supposedly take after the manga instead of diverting into a different path like the original series, and yes, the cast will be different. Which cast? All of them!

Rurouni Kenshin goes like this. It has been well over a decade since the end of a brutal war. With the entering of the Meiji era, peace was assumed as weapons like swords are banned. Of course, that won’t stop people from killing. And the never-ending fight with the government can cause this peaceful time…it was never really peaceful. Kenshin Himura is a wandering rurouni. He carries with him a double-edged sword despite the sword ban law put in place. Prior to this moment, Kenshin was known as “Hitokiri Battosai”, a ruthless killer. But after certain events, Kenshin swears to never kill again.

One day, he meets a young girl named Kaoru Kamiya. She’s the owner of a dojo that specializes in a certain style. At first, she confronts Kenshin thinking he is the dreaded Hitokiri Battosai. Most of it was a misunderstanding because yes, Kenshin is that, but he’s not the one using the name in vain and using Kaoru’s fighting style. After several incidents between the characters, Kenshin decided to set up shop and stay with Kaoru at her dojo. Eventually, two other characters join along. Yahiko, an orphaned boy who is training to be a great swordsman one day. And Sano, who once served during the brutal war is now a bit of a drifter. But he’ll have Kenshin’s back when they’re in a battle.

BETWEEN THE NEW SUB AND THE NEW DUB…AND EVERYTHING ELSE: I’ve gone on in length about the dubs to Rurouni Kenshin in the past. Prior to the 2023 remake, there were a total of three English dubs. The first one was for the original television run featuring Richard Cansino, Dorothy Elias-Fahn, and Wendee Lee. This was dubbed by Media Blasters. The second one consisted of the OVA’s featuring folks like Shannon Weaver, Gray Haddock, and Katherine Catmull. These were dubbed by ADV films and later Sentai Filmworks. And as for the third dub, that would be Sony’s sad attempt at redubbing Rurouni Kenshin filled with bastard names, a bastard name title, and new voices.

In the beginning, I was hoping for the absolute best-case scenario when it came to an English dub for this retelling. When it comes to me, I will always pick the first dub and that is for one big freakin’ thing. Steven Blum voicing Makoto Shishio. That and I always thought Richard Cansino was the best Kenshin. I’ve already been disappointed when Sentai didn’t reunite the original cast when retelling the Kyoto Arc several years ago and that’s why my skepticism is in play here. Plus, I’m pretty sure some of the original dub cast has already retired from voice acting. Sadly, the original voice for Misao (Philece Sampler) passed away in 2021. Much to my dismay, there was a new cast alright. Who they are was the bigger question.

Crunchyroll dropped the episodes without warning three months after the premier and without stating who would be in the cast. That’s certainly out of character for them. They get chatty when showering the masses who is going to be in an English dub cast everywhere they can including all social media platforms. I would have chalked it up to the SAG-AFTRA strike. But then I remembered, Crunchyroll has a conniption when it comes to that certain union. Plus, it never stopped them before as they’ve been whoring other English lists that same week this dropped. So, the obvious reason has got to be fear of having the audience badger the cast for being in Rurouni Kenshin after what the creator did. Only Kenshin’s voice actor came forward a week after the actor’s strike. The rest, most of us had to guess. Except for Yahiko, he just sounded like an angrier Gon. So, it’s Erica Mendez.

Just so you know, Aniplex had a live festival with seiyuus promoting the shows they’re on back in September of 2023. And what do you know, Souma Saitou and Rie Takahashi were on stage promoting Rurouni Kenshin. Out and about, no one getting doxxed, threatened, hate-mailed, or anything of the sort. I have a few scattered thoughts here. First of all, if there’s any bad-mouthing of Rie Takahashi of any kind, you and I are going to have a problem. Second of all, American fan-bases are fucking toxic and would harass the voice actors relentlessly to the point of no return. And third, why couldn’t they just come up with some fake-ass alias names for the English cast? On the other hand, I’ve seen how people on social media has harassed voice actors over trivial bullshit and it’s only getting worse. So, I kinda understand why this happened.

As for the sub, yes, the voices here have changed. So, when I originally watched Rurouni Kenshin, I watched nearly everything dubbed. It wasn’t until much later when I stumbled upon the sub, I discovered that Kenshin was voiced by a woman. Now, I’m getting another case of whiplash as I’m getting used to hearing Kenshin having more of a manlier voice. With all of that said, here’s the cast of Rurouni Kenshin 2023!

JAPANESE CAST: *Kenshin is now played by Souma Saitou (known for Diavolo on Jojo’s Pt. 5, Yamaguchi on Haikyuu, Kain on Rinne, and Miyano on Sasaki to Miyano)

*Kaoru is now played by Rie Takahashi (known for Ai on Oshi no Ko, Megumin on Konosuba, Emilia on Re:Zero, Sumi on Rent-A-Girlfriend, Ena on Laid-Back Camp, Mash on Fate/Grand Order, and Tomo on Tomo-chan is a Girl)

*Yahiko is now played by Makoto Koichi (known for Elza on Interspecies Reviewers, Young Jun on Tomo-chan is a Girl, Sumika on Yuri is my Job, and Sakura on Lycoris Recoil)

*Sanosuke is now played by Taku Yashiro (known for Friede on Pokemon Horizons, Natsuo on Domestic Girlfriend, Kouichi on Horimiya, Vulcan on Fire Force, and Arai on Chainsaw Man)

ENGLISH CAST: *Kenshin is now played by Howard Wang (known for Piers on Pokemon Journeys, Anastasia on Jojo’s Pt. 6, Kokonoi on Tokyo Revengers, Atsushi on Lovely Complex, Goshiki on Haikyuu, and Chuusaku on Komi-san)

*Kaoru is now played by Risa Mei (known for Futaba on My Senpai is Annoying)

*Yahiko is now played by Erica Mendez (known for Gon on Hunter x Hunter, Haruka/Uranus on Sailor Moon [redub], Ryuko on Kill la Kill, Raphtalia on Shield Hero, Retsuko on Aggretsuko, and Megumin on Konosuba)

*Sanosuke is now played by Darius Johnson

SHIPPING: Can I delve into this topic without going off the deep end and bringing up spoilers?

No, not really. These spoilers are over 30 years old. Deal with it.

Kenshin x Kaoru is a ship that has set sailed into the sea. No matter how much sex appeal Megumi can throw at it! Trust me on the matter, it’s a signed deal. I know that it almost seems one-sided in these 24 episodes, but that’s how it is.

WHAT TO COVER: In a reboot, you’ve gotta see what this version kept and what they didn’t and if it’s all in the right part of the story. Of course, we get the stories everyone is used to with this series like Kaoru being duped by that old creep and the debuts of Sano and Yahiko. Near the halfway mark, we’re already introduced to Aoshi and watched Kenshin and Sano take on the drug lords that were using Megumi. There have been a couple of episodes dedicated to some familiar storylines like Sano’s old comrade and the young lad Yutarou who wound up on the wrong side of the blade. Meanwhile, I’m squirming around in my seat waiting to hear something from a certain awesome villain. I have made no secret to loving the Kyoto arc and its main villain, Makoto Shishio.

Come episode 19, I heard his name uttered and know that it’s coming up.

Wait a sec! There are only 5 episodes left in the season. If this studio dares to even cram the whole Kyoto arc in that short amount of time, I’m throwing this entire media out the window. There’s gotta be a second season. Even if it’s only like 12 episodes that covers the span of the Kyoto arc, it’s better than the worst-case scenario. Thankfully, they did not cram the entire Kyoto arc into an episode. No mad man would ever do…Studio Deen would do that.

Case and point, Rozen Maiden 2013!

I am now being informed that I have already insulted Studio Deen’s attempt with Rozen Maiden twice now in this review. Let me get back to what I was saying. Thank the great good lord those guys are not in charge of Rurouni Kenshin again.

Actually, two of these episodes were a flashback episode that was originally an extra chapter to the manga. And if you’re wondering if this flashback episode contains Kenshin back when he was the legendary manslayer, it does not. It’s a story of Kenshin a couple of months prior to meeting Kaoru and the rest. For Kenshin’s past…just watch the OVA’s from 30 years ago.

The final episodes of the season set the stage up for the Kyoto arc with the introduction to Hajime Saito. Ten years prior, he was a bit of a rival to Kenshin back when he was the noted manslayer. Now, Hajime is part of the Shinsengumi. Kenshin and Hajime end up facing off like back in the day and he wound up reverting back to his manslayer mode.

Apparently, Kenshin can turn off that mode with a punch in the face.

As one does! The last time Kenshin was in that mode was when Kaoru was kidnapped earlier in the series. This time, Kaoru’s voice had no effect. This moment leads to Kenshin’s crucial decision at the end of the season. After the spar, he is confronted by Okubo Toshimichi, the man who has been trying to make the Meiji era a more peaceful time. He asks Kenshin for help of taking out a certain someone. Yes, it’s Makoto Shishio. Also known as, the man who just won’t die. Case and point, he’s been stabbed, knocked unconscious, and even set on fire. He’s still standing! Hell, he’s even known as the new Hitokiri Battosai manslayer. Kenshin gave this a lot of thought as he wants to remain peaceful and never kill again. Unfortunately, he’s given no choice when Okubo…well, he…

He fucked around and found out!

One of Shishio’s commrades (Soujiro Seta) murdered Okubo and sent a stark warning to Kenshin about going forward with anything brash. Kenshin truly wants for a peaceful nation and doesn’t want to kill again. In the final moments, we see him have a few precious moments with Kaoru before proceeding to leave her.

DON’T CRY, FANS! HE AIN’T GONE FOREVER! But a season two must, must, must, must, MUST COME!

Thankfully, two days after the finale we get the announcement that Rurouni Kenshin is indeed getting a sequel in 2024. Unknown to when in 2024, if the same studio will be doing it, how many episodes it’s going to be, or if Steven Blum is going to return as the voice of Shishio. Seeing as NO ONE from the original English cast has returned to do this project, I’ll shut up about it...

For now.

Was this a great reboot? That’s your call to make. For me, it’s too early to tell as there’s only been 24 episodes and none of them are the classic Kyoto arc. It’s too preliminary to call it a masterpiece or trash. Manga readers are somewhat split as they will always find fault with everything. Not every anime adaptation is going to do everything by the book and that’s their conniption. I read the manga too and I wasn’t picky about the adaptation. It’s not like they skipped 50 chapters and went right into unknown territory.

And before you say, “Oh, there goes Medea again bashing Rozen Maiden 2013”. NO! I was actually poking at The Promised Neverland this time.

Thankfully, Rurouni Kenshin was done well. The art was beautiful. LIDENFILMS did a spectacular job. If you’re not familiar with the studio, they have recently done Call of the Night and Tokyo Revengers. The music was great. Every opening and ending were bangers. Reol was the real stand-out star in that department. They kept the language Kenshin uses when he speaks, that they did. I’m satisfied. I know more fans would want to see some more footage of Kenshin back when he was the notorious Battosai. I’m just going to say to be patient. You’ll see some stuff soon enough. And if you’re an impatient fuck, the OVA’s are around. Trust & Betrayal will give you what you want.

Can I recommend this? Not without having a giant elephant sitting on my shoulders.

For now, Crunchyroll has Rurouni Kenshin 2023 available for streaming.

Now then, for those who are looking for the original series, OVA, and even the live-action movies, here’s where to find them.

The original 96-episode series is currently on Hulu. The recent live-action movies are currently available on Netflix. All of the OVA’s (Trust & Betrayal, Reflections, and Kyoto-arc retelling), I can’t seem to find them streaming wise. Also, unsure if the hard copies are out of print or not.

#rurouni kenshin #himura kenshin #kaoru kamiya #sanosuke sagara #yahiko myojin #makoto shishio #soujirou seta

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confettiepup · 3 months

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I can’t wait to move out with my mom and have our dream appartement and my dream littlespace room 🥺💕 I’ll make a post soon on my future projects about it!

Tw vent: Abusive behaviour/gaslighting dad

My mom and I wants to leave the house as soon as possible because of how abusive my dad is. We can’t go now because my grandma is dependent to my mom because of her bad health so we have to stay there for her. A neighbour is supposedly leaving this Summer which means we could have a chance if it’s true. But the chances are low :( I’m also disabled and can’t live alone for now, so moving with my mom is the most realistic thing that can be done for now.

Until then my mom and I keep this dream in mind and try to avoid my dad as most as possible and ignore his tantrums. I really don’t feel safe home. It’s not our home but his home. He’s constantly gaslighting us, have no patience, is purposely creating fights and looking for something to complain about every day and I skip lots of triggering stuff. I can’t focus on healing when I constantly feel like walking on eggs at home. We have to constantly watch out for what we’re going to say because he may take it badly and explode.

I’m constantly stressed when he’s home, even at night when he’s sleeping because he might get up and go in my room to complain. I can’t be myself at all. All my projects are down for now because I’m too drained. Even therapy is about how to deal with him now. Even when I’m sick he have no pity, it’s all about him. Little me cannot take it anymore but the only thing that makes us happy is the idea of getting away.

Getting little stuff without being judged

Not having to hide my littlespace gear

Being free to walk around the house, being in a room other than my room and feel free

Be able to make a « mess » by doing activities outside of my room like coloring on the kitchen table, doing crafts playing on the floor in the living room while watching TV without feeling the urge to clean up and gtf out of the room to stop bothering

Playing music in the house, any volume we want without complains and be told to turn it off

Having karaoke nights with my mom without complains

Playing videogames together without being told that we’re annoying

Watching our types of movies and series without being judged

Talking about what we want together, laugh without him telling us to shut up because he’s trying to focus on his game

Not being afraid to eat in front of him without being scared to be judged

Going out and not him calling her to get back because it’s been too long and he wants to get his dinner, chores done and will have a tantrum back home and make her feel like shit for coming home « so late » (she have NO social life because of him)

Not being called crazy when we speak up about whats wrong

Simply living without him, too much could be added

My mom and I are literally praying to get out as soon as possible, my dad is just getting more and more worst. We’ll need to get money as most as we can, I might start to open drawing commissions soon because I’m currently not having a job because of therapy and my disability :(. We will work so hard to get out of here.

#agere vent #tw vent #tw abuse #puppie’s dad situation :(#age re #sfw agere #agere community #age regression #sfw age regression #autistic agere

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spellbook-gayboy · 1 year

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Drabble 27 ~

27.

“What? How can you tell me to leave them when they slander me so?!” Thula sneered. “Grrahh, I should tear her head from her shoulders!”

Kyle had to hold his wife back and stop her from committing murder in public. “Hey, hey, it’s just a PTA meeting! Meredith ain’t a threat, honey, just a bible-thumping soccer mom!” He reassured her, trying to keep from literally tearing into the woman.

“She dares to insinuate that my abilities as a mother are inadequate... because I don’t know how to make a pie?!” Thula scowled. She seethed in the direction of the smug middle-aged woman across the room, who was currently engrossed in bragging about her cooking skills to the small gaggle of parents that had gathered around her. “I will have vengeance upon her!”

Kyle, meanwhile, was still trying to get them out of the room before someone died. “Yep, and I’m sure you will, darling! Just don’t kill anyone in the process, ‘kay?”

A light came on in Thula’s head. Her husband was right. In fact, if all went according to plan, she wouldn’t even need to kill anyone. “Yes... we should go, now.”

“My thoughts exactly!”

---

Thula sat in the nearly empty office of the family farmhouse, staring at the note-covered bulletin board in front of her. Her fingers drummed the arm of the chair, and her face was etched with a sly half-smile. The board was chock full of various pieces of intelligence and overheard gossip about the other parents and teachers from the elementary school, and nestled in the centre of this web was her target: Meredith De Vries, mother of four and the unapologetic owner of that ugly Ford Ranger that always took up twice the amount of parking spaces as were needed. She was a human peacock, flaunting and bragging her way around town, always yammering on about her successful lawyer husband and big fancy suburb house (Thula was terrified the first time she went into the suburbs), and how she was the president of the Homeowners’ Association and the Parent-Teacher Association and this thing and that thing and all manner of things that Thula couldn’t care less about. The only thing about her that did interest her was an event that was quickly oncoming: the PTA church social, supposedly meant to raise funds for school supplies, but instead likely another chance for Meredith to show off. But if Thula could surpass her, upstage the woman at her event, it would be social destruction- no, social dismemberment. The thought filled Thula with glee.

“Simon, dear?” She called, and a raven-haired boy poked his head around the corner. Simon was the younger of their two children, born almost two years to the day after his sister, and taking much more after her, including developing the usual abilities of a Viltrumite at just seven years old. “Could you call your father in, please?”

“Okay, Ma!” He chirped. Despite looking like a male version of Thula, Simon had all the tone and mannerisms of his father. He glided across the floor and out the back door, the wind whooshing slightly beneath his feet. After a couple of minutes of silence, Kyle trod in, dressed in his usual ‘I have just cleaned the pig pens and don’t even want to think about mud for the next three hours’ attire.

“Yeah honey, what is i- sweet baby Jesus!” He exclaimed, eyes going wide at the state of the office. “Uh, listen darling, you know I love it when you get all creative, but uh... what the hell is this, exactly?”

“This, dear husband, is victory. And for Meredith, it is complete and utter destruction!” Thula explained with an almost wicked smile across her face.

Kyle’s brows creased. “Okay, so before I hear anymore of this, you’re not actually gonna like... hurt her, are you?”

“Oh absolutely not, dear! And that is the true genius of my strategy,” Thula replied, “for I will ruin her life without laying a finger upon her! Allow me to explain...”

---

The day had arrived. The parents, teachers and children turned up in droves outside the church, slowly filtering onto the green where the many tables of food both sweet and savoury. The battlefield was set. Now she just had to wait for the enemy to arrive.

It didn’t take long. The awful grumbling of that Ford Ranger could be heard getting closer, and soon enough, the monstrous vehicle roared into the parking lot, swinging around to fill three parking spaces. Meredith had to clamber down from the driver’s seat due to her short stature, gathering up a few armfuls of Tupperware before almost race-walking over. Her face was as smug as always, but it soon changed once she came face-to-face with Thula.

The tables at which parents could display their food for sale were taken on a ‘first come first serve’ basis, and the one that Thula had chosen was perhaps one of the best: in the central area of the green, but also quite visible to anyone who was just coming in, making it already one of the most popular stalls so far, with her and her husband already having collected a handsome sum of money. But another reason, perhaps the most important, was that Meredith had near-constantly implied that this table would be hers, and while the others might’ve been too afraid to even think of going against her, Thula had faced much worse than her, and only respected the rules of the social. First come first serve, indeed.

“Meredith, dear! So glad you could make it!” She greeted, the fake cheeriness obvious. While on any other day, she would levy every curse that Viltrum had to offer, today she had to keep up the façade of the normal human housewife in order for her plan to succeed. Instead of trying to strangle the other woman, Thula instead made a gesture towards the various baked goods on her stall. “Anything catch your eye? I’d recommend my husband’s apple pie if you’re looking something with a fruity kick!”

Meredith didn’t say anything, just kept that scowl across her face and moved off, quietly grumbling. That made Thula feel good. “Uh oh,” She heard from her right, “She looks like she’s gonna blow a gasket!”

“Stage one of the plan is complete. Now for stage two.”

“What’s stage two, again?”

“Simple, dear: we fundraise.”

For the next couple of hours, they went about their business, selling more and more of their sweet cakes and fruity pies as the day passed. Occasionally, Thula would steal glances behind herself to keep tabs on Meredith. For all of her supposed popularity with the other parents, her stall was far from busy. In fact, in the entire time she had been there, she had barely shifted any stock whatsoever. The only thing that was changing regularly was the shade of red on her face, and how quickly it got darker. Now for the coup de grace. Thula waited until Meredith noticed her staring, then flashed her best shit-eating grin and paired it with a wave.

The effect was almost instant, Meredith visibly growling and stomping over to her stall. She jabbed a finger towards Thula in an accusatory manner, demanding “Just who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry, Meredith, are you feeling alright?” She asked, slowly brushing the finger away. “You look terrible!”

Meredith’s eyes looked like they were going to pop from their sockets in anger. “You knew that this this was my stall, madam! It’s not polite to take someone else’s stall!”

“Oh, was this your stall? I apologise, but as far as I was aware, these stalls were filled on a first come basis!” Thula replied, desperately trying to conceal her laughter behind a large smile. “Oh, are the parking spaces also on that same basis, because I remember someone having a problem with the position of your Ford!”

Despite how innocuous she believed that comment seemed, apparently it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Oh, you uppity bitch!” Meredith swore aloud, drawing gasps from around her, before rearing he hand and slapping Thula across the face. Despite possibly being the weakest attack she had ever received, Thula acted as if it had actually hurt her, stumbling just enough to seem believable and covering her cheek, more to hide the lack of damage.

Meredith, meanwhile, hadn’t even stopped to realise how badly she had messed up, pivoting on her heel before stomping away to her vehicle. A balding man in a nice suit ran after her, and Kyle raced over not long after. Despite looking and acting concerned, his words were perfectly calm: “So, plan succeeded?”

“Absolutely.”

#so sorry for being late #wanted to make sure this looked right #invincible #invincible show #invincible amazon #invincible oc #🦅🛡#kyle washington #thula invincible #my asks #summerfrwrks #writing prompt friday

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eliaswoodt · 2 years

Text

(TW minor character death and blood mentioned)

That was a Close One

(That was a Close One)

Lee was gone.

He gets reminded of that while he walks into the living room. Quiet and unoccupied other than himself of course.

He went out to meet with this mysterious Linnie that yeah, had saved him that one time -of which he is grateful for, don’t get him wrong- but had also hacked into their shit, left cryptic messages and god knows what else! If it wasn’t obvious, he doesn’t really trust her.

So, Lee went out to meet this mysterious Linnie, that they barely know anything about, -who could be part of the Family- by himself. Now don’t get Mo wrong, he tried, believe him, he tried to convince Lee that meeting this stranger alone was a bad idea; that Mo should go with him, so he can keep him safe -unlike last time- but Lee had said it was dangerous.

Hell, he reminded Mo that the last time he went with him to meet a stranger who supposedly has answers that Mo almost died. Of course Mo turned that onto him and reminded Lee that he, himself got kidnapped and that if Mo didn’t get to him soon enough he probably was going to be killed for all they knew. The taller man didn’t have an answer to that. He still argued that Mo should stay home, should stay and make sure Sean doesn’t break out or something, they both knew that was bullshit but eventually Mo relented because he knew Lee wasn’t going to change his mind, not this time. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still mad over it, or more accurately frustrated as the hours tick by and he doesn’t know if his best friend is alive or not.

He hopes, as he sits on the couch -more like he preys to whatever higher being that may or may not exist- that Lee isn’t doing something reckless and stupid right at this very moment that may or may not get him killed.

He knows, or more like hopes once again, that Lee is searching for this Linnie person in that park and that he can’t text and search at the same time. Knows that he can’t search and call at the same time otherwise he might miss something. But, with everything that has happened can you really blame him for worrying? He doesn’t think so.

He sighs as he looks around the stagnant room picking at his jeans. He doesn’t have much to occupy himself with other than TV and his phone. The house is clean, he does not want to spend time with Sean, and he’s not much of a video game person anyway. Without Lee he doesn’t have much reason to turn one on, so he relaxes and watches some stupid reality show.

It’s when Mo is watching annoying horny people trying not to be annoying horny people and find love that he gets up to get a drink, water alcohol he doesn’t really know at the moment, he just knows that he’s thirsty. However, before he even makes it to the fridge he decides to check out of the blinds, he doesn’t really know why, just does it. Out of habit maybe? Paranoia because he’s basically home alone? Both? Whatever it be, he peaks through the salmon colored blinds and, well, he doesn’t really know what he was expecting but he sure as hell was not expecting to see figures clothed in black on his patio.

“Shit.” Mo curses under his breath as he gets back to the living room. He knows he can’t fight them. That’s way too many people. And he knows by the time he gets to the front door he’s screwed. So he does the only thing else he can think of, hide. His hiding place isn’t all that smart or elaborate, really. He hides in a closet. A closet full of jackets and boxes he’s forgotten who were from and what was full of.

He hears the slide of glass, and footsteps echo in the house and god is he glad that he turned off the TV. “Can you ladies find dear ol’ Mo? We don’t want him hiding and ruining our party!” A cheery, British voice orders. Quiet feet marching off in different directions can be heard after the command. Oh god, he knows that voice. “Oh, I could’ve sworn he was abandoned here all by himself while the carrier played detective.” She said, in faux pity. Someone stops and stands where he’s hiding, he can hear their breaths. “Maybe, he ran off to follow him..?” Lexx whispers and Mo holds his breath.

Lee hasn’t heard anything from Mo. He tried calling, and that yielded a whole lot of nothing. He wasn’t one for hoping anymore, not much of an optimist but he tried reasoning with himself that maybe Mo was just showering, or sleeping off whatever he drank instead of the alternative. The alternative of him not being okay. But, that small hope, reasoning, whatever it was was dwindling by the minute because by this point he would’ve called back. He would’ve woken up by the ringing, he would’ve taken his phone with him in the bathroom.

His mind was racing with all the bad possibilities of what might’ve happened, or what could be happening the moment we speak, or think. The moment he drives Mo could be getting tortured, or killed. He doesn’t know which one is better, selfishly he rathered Mo get tortured and ultimately survive but another part of him knows what that’s like and he doesn’t want that to happen to his best friend. To have to live through that and be stuck with those memories for as long as he lives. But ultimately he knows he doesn’t get to decide what fate his friend went through as he stands in front of the ajar door.

He takes a breath. In, and out but it only feels like more heavy dread fills his lungs as he does.

His steps feel like gunshots with how they echo throughout the trashed house. It was dark, light barely there but he doesn’t dare turn one on as he searches. He doesn’t take caution in making sure the floorboards don’t creek as he tries to go down the basement but keyword tries. He tries to go down the basement but he stops halfway, smelling something horrendous. Blood. He smells the strongest stench of blood he has ever smelt and almost vomits but he pushes it back down to at least make sure it’s who he thinks it is.

Red. So. much. fucking. red. And, oh god, oh god his throat.

He rushes back up the stairs making a loud bang while closing the basement door frantically, trying to push the image of guts and gore from his old friend that he can’t call ‘friend’ anymore. He swallowed around a lump in his throat, his legs gave way leaving him on the floor in shock.

He breathed, heavy and his heartbeat so loud it masks somebody else’s gasp and muffled “fuck” following after it. He’s too caught up in his mind, thinking about how Mo is dead. The unwanted thought intruded into his mind after the terror of what he saw settled in his heart, heavy and suffocating. The thought that what happened to Sean is probably what happened to him, it’s not like he saw the body anywhere but he’s sure. He’s so sure in fact that he starts to sob, gross snotty sobs echo throughout the house he lived in with Mo because his best friend is dead. And he’s alone. He’s alone and god he oh so selfishly doesn’t want to be alone. Another strangled cry leaves him at the idea. Alone. He hates that word with a passion that closes up his throat and makes his fingers twitch with the need to scratch and claw at it.

He doesn’t realise somebody is standing above him because he has his hands over his face, shielding him from life’s judgment but not his own self hatred. He doesn’t realise it until that person crouches down, and puts their warm hand on his shoulder. “…Mo?” The aforementioned man smiles tightly. Lee pulls him into a bear hug. “I thought…I was so sure you-“ He cut in, “Me too, me too.” He assured, not saying anything about the tears soaking his shirt.

“How are you alive?” He needs to know how they didn’t find him in that closet. Of all places he was sure that was one the Family would’ve checked so he didn’t bother. “The closet, near the living room.” Lee rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit I can see that. How did they not find you?” Somehow Lee was able to find it in himself to still be sassy. “I locked the door. When she tried opening it, I guess she thought it wasn’t worth it.” Mo shivered, “the sounds, oh god the sounds were terrible. The screams.” His voice sounded absent as he recalled what happened. What he heard. What happened to Sean. “He’s…he’s dead, I saw it. It’s disgusting.” Thinking about it made the bile rise again but he resisted the urge.

“We need to leave, we can’t stay here.” Mo decided and Lee nodded.

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blahandwhatever · 1 year

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I did it

I did da dentist.

I was very brave (but nervous too, about what my mouth might hold).

A lot was different, unfamiliar, futuristic compared to my last visit more than a decade ago.

The people were good - maybe not as warm as I would’ve expected from the practice’s glowing reviews, but it’s the competence and the dentist himself I care about most. No one asked me about my life or tried to make me talk while they did stuff in my mouth, which was decidedly a win.

As for the teeth - things are about what I expected. I’ll probably need a couple of root canals, and then there’s several other cavities, and I may need some crowns. It’s kind of a mess, but it could be worse.

First, though, I needed a deep cleaning. We did half of my mouth today and will do the rest in a couple of weeks. I’ll look into the root canals next month, finances willing.

It’s my last major neglected frontier of self-care - even though I have tried to take good care of my teeth in recent years, dentist aside - and it’ll be good to finally get this part of myself caught up.

Couple of weeks ago, before The Fears set in, I took my car for an oil change and windshield wiper replacement and inspection at Hyundai, and they also informed me there was a recall for underbody corrosion prevention, and they had me reschedule my afternoon appointment to the morning because supposedly that service was going to take 4-6 hours. And so I went to Schaumburg for the first time in forever - I’d missed it, but frankly, in the daylight, in its barren winter state, it was a little underwhelming, and my sleepiness didn’t help - expecting to have a big expedition, expecting to spend some time at a nearby Starbucks with my laptop, expecting to finally try the pistachio latte I’d been wanting to try for a while but was rarely out of the house at a reasonable time for coffee, only to be told that, in fact, everything would take an hour and a half at most. So I sat, instead, in the car dealership waiting room, annoyed at the completely unnecessary morning, scrolling on my phone, insipid television program blaring, perplexed by all the people buying cars at this time of day. I was quite surprised to find that the inspection was completely clear - nothing even to keep an eye on, though I don’t know that it was comprehensive enough to catch absolutely everything. I still have suspicions about needing a rotor replacement that I’ve had for a couple of years now, and my tires have been losing air easily again. But I’ll look into that stuff with my local mechanic at some point. (I did attempt to try the pistachio latte afterward anyway, only to learn it was a seasonal item that was no longer available. The Starbucks website in no way made this clear.)

The other thing I want to take care of soon is getting my ears re-pierced - at least one of them closed up forever ago - and maybe adding a couple more piercings while I’m at it. I’ve taken the initial step of ordering some earrings for this purpose, which are slowly shipping from Canada because for some reason I had a remarkably hard time finding basic little silver studs.

So, some long-procrastinated-on things are finally getting done.

Oh and yeah. Taxes have to get done too.

Work has picked up a little bit, but still not enough. I still haven’t applied for anything new.

And now we face a very warm week that will surely mean suffering from uncontrollable heat and humidity indoors. I would buy a dehumidifier or portable air conditioner if I were in a less financially precarious position right now.

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stressisakiller · 2 years

Text

Enter Sandman

Tony Stark x OFC Soulmate AU

(Metallica Really? Part 1)

Summary: Tony Stark doesn’t believe in soulmates. Yes, he could admit that everyone gained a tattoo on their 18th birthday that supposedly led them to the perfect person for them but he refused to accept it. This mainly stemmed from the fact that when he turned 18 nothing showed up. Was he so unlikeable that not even the universe could find someone who would deal with him? So he did what any heartbroken person would do, he threw himself into his work and into the girls that he surrounded himself with.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Beginning of Tony's installment of the Hello Sunflower universe. This is going to be a slloooowww burn, at least that's the plan and what the characters called for. Oh and some of the soulmarks don't make an appearance for a while... Hope yall like it! Can be read as Tony x Reader but the main character is given a name but no real description.

Masterlist

You have been working for Tony Stark for the last 10 years as his PA along with Pepper Potts. Pepper focused on all of his work-related issues while you dealt with his personal day-to-day life, including most of the charity events he attends. You love working with Pepper. She has become like a sister to you which is a blessing considering all of the time you spend together. Tony on the other hand does an amazing job of getting on your nerves and being totally endearing at the same time which also gets on your nerves.

Waking up to a text from Tony after a late night of attending one of his award ceremonies that he didn’t even have the decency to attend was not how you wanted to start your day. Especially when the text is at 5 am and is asking you to take care of the woman that is currently warming his bed. Sighing you pull yourself away from the comfort of your bed and get dressed for the day. Grabbing some coffee you make your way to Tony’s house. Apparently, he and his friend didn’t even make it to the bedroom before getting undressed so luckily for you the maids had already sent the reporter's clothes to the dry cleaners. Walking into the dry cleaners you greet the woman working with a smile and ask her how her family is, she talks your ears off about her new grandbaby and you happily listen. Without asking she hands you Tony and the reporter’s clothes and you give her a gracious smile and a large tip, Tony wouldn’t mind.

Tony’s house in your opinion is too large and too clean. There isn’t enough personality to it and it feels sterile. His workshop on the other hand you love, it's dirty and loud and actually feels lived in unlike the rest of the house. As you step through the foyer into the living room you hear Jarvis telling the reporter that something is off-limits. Of course, she would try snooping around, what type of journalist would she be if she didn’t take every opportunity to get the inside scoop. Squaring your shoulders for the imminent confrontation you take a deep breath and paste a smile on your face.

“Good morning don’t worry about the voice, that’s Jarvis he runs the house, I have your dress here from the dry cleaners and there is a car outside that will take you wherever you need to go.” You speak calmly to her while holding her clothes and taking a sip of your coffee, you are already over the day and don't care how rude it may seem.

“Oh yes, of course, you must be the famous Liza Martin, or are you Ms. Potts?” she asks a small smirk gracing her face. You keep yourself from rolling your eyes at her tone and instead answer the mostly rhetorical question, she knows exactly who you are.

“My name is Elizabeth only Mr. Stark calls me Liza, is there anything else I can do for you before you leave?” Your voice stays level as you speak, you don't allow your annoyance to show.

“All this time and he still has you getting the dry cleaning.” her smug tone is blatant but you just smile at her weighing your next words before thinking fuck it and speaking.

“I do anything Mr. Stark requires including occasionally taking out the trash. Please try not to trip on your way out.” You don’t let your smile fall until you are out of sight heading down the stairs to speak with Tony.

“Jarvis please make sure she leaves, get Happy to walk her out if needs must.”

“Yes, Ms. Martin.”

“You picked a real peach with that one Mr. Stark.” You state as you walk through the door. Pepper would never say anything like that to Tony but you lost most of your filter concerning him a long time ago, and honestly, he found it very refreshing.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Tony, Liza?” you huff out a small laugh before answering.

“As many times as I have to tell you to stop calling me Liza, Mr. Stark.” He stares at you for a moment before smiling widely and chuckling.

“You love it, and someone's a little testy this morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" The glare sent his way does nothing to deter him.

“5 am Mr. Stark. You woke me up at 5 in the morning to deal with a woman that you decided to take to bed. Did you sleep at all last night? I know for a fact that Rhodey had to pull you out of a casino around 1 am. Speaking of Rhodey, you are supposed to be halfway across the world right now!” you keep your voice surprisingly level but can't hide the heat of your words.

“You have plans today? it seems like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“As a matter of fact I do, it’s Pepper’s birthday and we have plans to go out.” You can see the mild panic in his eyes before he composes himself, it wouldn’t have been noticeable to most people, except you and maybe Pepper.

“Did I get her something nice?” He asks still ignoring your earlier rant.

“Yes, Mr. Stark it was very nice, very tasteful. Now go get your ass on that plane before Rhodey gets even more pissed off at me.” smiling at the shock on his face at your words you head out calling out to Jarvis as you go. “Jarvis, make sure he stops working and gets to the airport.”

“Yes, Ms. Martin.”

“Thanks, J,” you say heading out to your girls' day with Pepper.

You are woken up the next morning by your phone ringing off the hook, you look to see it's Rhodey. “Rhodey, it’s 3 in the morning, what the hell?” your voice is croaky with sleep and your eyes are struggling to stay open as you wait for his reply.

“Our caravan was attacked, they took Tony.” You sit straight up in bed wide awake,

“What?” your voice cracks, “What do you mean this has to be a mistake” you are starting to hyperventilate, as much as he annoys you, you really do care for Tony. You can vaguely hear Rhodey’s reply on the other side of the line but you aren’t able to comprehend the words that are being said. You aren’t able to fall back asleep and spend the rest of the day in a haze trying to find ways to fill your days without Tony around.

Three months Tony is gone for three months before there is a lead somewhere in the middle of the desert. You spend that time working for Stark industries in any way that you can in order to make ends meet, the bastards refuse to pay you otherwise since Tony isn’t there. You end up living with Sarah; she worked hand-in-hand with Tony before his disappearance and her subsequent firing by Obadiah, which never sat right with you. She is young but you enjoy her company and she helps to get your mind off of your worry for Tony. She is like a little sister to you now and you take care of each other. Rhodey is the one to call you and let you know that they found Tony, that they are heading back to the states, that he is ok. You are at the airport with Pepper and Obediah when he arrives. He jokes around with Pepper and Obie before turning to you.

“There is my favorite girl, have you been doing alright without your favorite person?” he sounds the same as ever but you see past his facade, you can tell he is hurting but you decided to go along with his act.You playfully roll your eyes at him,

“Who says you’re my favorite person? I’m rather fond of my new roommate Sarah, she may have knocked you down a couple of pegs. At least she doesn’t scare me by almost dying and then disappearing for 3 months.” Your voice is playful but he can hear the undertone of worry that you are trying so hard to hide.

“Touche." He gives you a soft smile before looking around at all the people gathered, a look of concern crossing his features. "Where is Sara, I half expected her to be here?”

You clear your throat taking a moment to contemplate your words. “I think she was wary about being around Obadiah since he fired her pretty quickly after you left.” You murmur not wanting the man in question to hear you, something about him makes you nervous.

“Wait what? Rehire her immediately and raise her salary as an apology.” At his words you smile, a real smile this time.

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Right away.” You hear him calling out to Pepper as you start typing away on your Stark pad to get the paperwork for Sarah’s rehiring.

“Pepper, call a conference and Happy take me to get a cheeseburger before we head that way.”

The conference is a disaster but you can’t help but be proud of Tony for making a stand for something he believes in, even if it does majorly affect his whole empire. You don’t tell him as much but you do find little ways to make sure he knows you're on his side. Such as making sure he had his favorite drinks and snacks stocked in his garage, and baking his favorite dessert as a welcome home gift. You also decide not to tell him about how you were treated while he was gone, he has enough on his plate without your problems, although if you asked Tony he would disagree.

You are in the middle of updating Tony’s calendar to coincide with the one that Pepper just sent you when you hear Tony calling for you over the house speaker.

“Liza, how big are your hands?”

“What?” you can’t help the tone of your voice as you answer, what a strange question.

“Your hands, how big are they?” you blanch a little bit at the repeated question, your brow furrowed as you try to decide how to answer.

“I don’t under..”

“Get down here I need you.” You roll your eyes at his demand before closing out the program on your tablet allowing it to take over, you would double-check everything later, before heading down the steps to Tony’s lair.

“What the hell are you doing?” is the first thing out of your mouth when you step into the room. Tony is sitting with his shirt off, medical equipment strewn all around him.

“I need your help switching this out for the new version, Dumee here doesn’t have small enough fingers.” Your head fills with questions most of which you decide to keep to yourself.

“You want me to put my hand into your chest and take out the one thing keeping you alive? Correct?” You raise your eyebrow at him in question, waiting for him to prove you wrong… no such luck.

“You’ll put a new one in” he says defensively. You walk up to him and take a deep breath muttering under your breath, “I need a raise for the shit you make me do." before speaking normally for him to hear, "Why exactly do you need me to do this?”

“There is an exposed wire under this device and it’s contacting the socket wall and causing a bit of a short, so I need you to reach in and take the wire out.” His voice is calm as he speaks and you can’t help but let out a small laugh, holy shit you need a raise.

“I really hate you right now.” You state as you take the arc reactor out and reach into the socket to pull out the wire. “This is the grossest thing you have ever made me do.” You gag a little bit at the feeling of what you can only describe as puss, while you feel around for the wire. “What the everloving fuck makes you think that I am qualified to do this?”

“You’re fine, you are the most capable, qualified, trustworthy person I have ever met, you are going to do great,” he states, the lack of sarcasm or condescension takes you aback, but you turn your focus back to the task at hand.

“Ok I found it, what do I do?”

“Just gently pull it out without touching the side walls.” There is a buzzing and a screech from Tony as you accidentally do exactly that.

“Fuck sorry,” you pause for a second before starting to pull it out again as Tony starts to speak.

“Just, as you're doing that there is a magnet at the end, don’t pull it out” He barely gets the chance to finish talking as you accidentally pull it out, “And you just yanked it out,” you panic and start to lower it back in, his voice stopping you. “Don’t put it back in!” He is taking deep breaths as you place it to the side as he mumbles something about having a heart attack and you yanking the magnet out like a trout before he tells you to plug in the new arc reactor.

“Don’t you ever make me do anything like that again,” you state as soon as the new reactor is in its proper place and you no longer have a dying Tony sitting in front of you.

“Who else would I ask?” You look at him for a long moment after he says that, noting the honesty in his expression, before he claps his hands and breaks the moment.

“Ok, so what do you want me to do with the old one?” you ask while picking it up and turning towards him.

“Get rid of it, incinerate it, I don't care.” He’s back to his usual brisk attitude acting as if the last 30 minutes didn’t happen.

“You mean you don’t want to keep it?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I have been called many things Liza, nostalgic is not one of them.”

You just sigh as you turn and leave the room, old arc reactor in hand. He may not be nostalgic but you are, you are also a bit petty, so instead of destroying it, you put it into a display case with the words ‘Proof that Tony Stark has a heart.’ and leave it wrapped up in the garage for him to see.

#hello sunflower #tony stark x original female character #tony stark x reader #the avengers #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #soulmate au #soulmate tattoo #soulmate #tony stark imagine #tony stark fanfiction #marvel imagine

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littlemissnoname13 · 3 years

Text

Blaise’s Cup of Tea (D.M)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: some mentions of alcohol, very mild sexual themes, nothing too explicit, Draco being a fûxkboy ,Draco being a huge simp

Summary: where Draco is secretly in love with his best friend’s fiancée

Word count: 2122

A/n: had this idea in the shower and I couldn’t help myself. The blog has been a mess recently and for that I apologise.

For Draco Malfoy, a typical night usually consisted of three things.

First, a glass of his favourite spirit; preferably scotch in his hand.

Second, a cigar tucked in between his fingers

And third, a random girl in his bed chambers. It didn't matter if his company for the night shared the same interests as him, it didn't matter if she liked him for who he was or if she liked him solely for being the heir to the massive Malfoy fortune.

Come morning, he would never have to see her again anyway.

His Father, Lucius always chastised him for bringing a different girl as a plus one to social events. Even Narcissa wasn't all too pleased about her son engaging in all these hedonistic activities and bedding random girls.

The friends he’d grown up with were all well on their way to settling down and having children while he was still not even close to having a serious relationship.

“Why can’t you be more like Zabini?” Lucius would say, everytime the Malfoys sat down for a family dinner. Narcissa would agree to this while expressing her desire for grandchildren and Draco would have to refrain from choking on his dinner.

Blaise Zabini, was happily engaged to longtime girlfriend Daphne Greengrass and they were busy planning their Summer wedding.

Every time Draco would meet Blaise for a drink, all he’d talk about was Daphne, the wedding, floral arrangements, invites and party favours. Just last week, Blaise even confessed to having already thought out names for his future children.

Taking a final sip of his scotch, Draco placed his glass on his desk and returned to his bed, where a random brunette girl was peacefully asleep.

He took a few moments to recall her given name in his mind but this attempt remained futile. He couldn’t even remember how he felt while they were doing the deed a few hours prior.

His father was right, he was slowly turning into, for a lack of a better term, “Pig person.”

As he quietly slipped into his bed next to the brunette, he started to think about all the one night stands he’d had in the last few months.

One night stands are appropriately called one night stands for a reason. He knew that.

But it wasn't his fault he couldn’t get that one particular night from four months ago with that one particular girl out of his system.

It had all started out so innocently.

A chance encounter at a bar, alcohol fueled conversation, his hands on her hips on the dance floor and his lips on her lips by the end of the night.

He’d never before met anybody so charming yet painfully frustrating in his life.

Y/n. Y/l/n.

Distinctive features, expressive eyes and lips that quirked upward with a wicked smile.She had one of those faces that had the capability of engraving itself into one’s subconscious and the way her brows furrowed in annoyance indicated that she might have been aware and unnerved by it.

In the few hours he’d spent with her, she’d stimulated his brain with her wits and intellect. She’d made him care about uninteresting things like the witch burnings in the 14th Century. She’d challenged his predetermined notions and world view.

Everything about her was vivacious.

Her effervescence reminded him of a freshly opened bottle of sparkling Rosé on a hot summers day. Crisp yet sweet if you took in a moment for the flavours to sink in.

And Merlin was this girl could kiss!

The way she gently nipped on his lower lip and teasingly traced her tongue left him with something more to be desired.

Nothing happened with Y/n that night. Nothing except feverish kisses and whispers of “I want you.”

They’d spent the whole night talking. He’d never spent the night with a girl and not done anything before.

And she’d left before he could even manage to open his eyes the next morning.

She’d disappeared without a sign or trace.

Nothing but her fruity fresh scent on his pillows remained to remind him that she was in fact real and not some hallucination.

Draco went the the very same bar again the next day with his hopes held high. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.

But to his utter dismay, y/n never showed up.

Soon, it became a habit of his to go to the bar and wait for her.

He’d gotten so desperate at one point that he even interrogated the bar keep about the girl that had seemingly managed to capture his attention in the span of a night.

But no matter how hard he tried, Draco never got any answers.

She became nothing but a distant ghost of a rather blissfully perfect night.

Just when he was about to toss away the memories of y/n and her pretty lips inside a locked and chained box in his head, he heard his house elf appear with a pop into his bed chambers.

“Master Malfoy, this letter just came for you.” The elf said quietly as he stretched out his arm to hand Draco a sealed envelope.

Draco would have told his elf off for appearing in his chambers in the middle of the night but decided against it when he saw the scrawl of Blaise’s messy handwriting on the envelope.

It was two in the morning and a rather odd time for Blaise to be sending him a letter.

Assuming that it must be something urgent, Draco quickly ripped open the seal and unfolded the letter.

Draco,

I write this with a heavy heart and I write this with nothing for company except a bottle of bourbon.

Daphne left me this morning.

The wedding is off and it is all my fault.

To be honest, It did feel like things were going too fast and we were jumping to life altering decisions without taking the time to think and contemplate.

After thinking all day, I have decided to get married after all.

Your mother has been rather kind and offered to set me up with a girl that is supposedly “perfect for me.” Although I definitely trust her judgement, It would be great if you could “assist” Narcissa in her search. You are my best friend after all.

B.Z.

By the time Draco was done reading Blaise’s letter, the girl sleeping next to him had started to toss and turn in her sleep.

~~~

When his mum flooed into his residence the next morning, Draco’s company for the night, who was named Sylvia by the way, was just on her way out.

Sylvia was rather laid back and was looking for nothing other than a rebound. Draco had offered her tea but she’d politely declined stating that she had brunch planned with her friends anyway.

“And who is this charming young lady, Draco?” Narcissa asked.

“She’s Sylvia and Sylvia was just on her way out.” Draco said in a clipped voice before literally shoving an annoyed looking Sylvia into the fireplace.

“It was nice meeting you Mrs. Malfoy.” Sylvia said in a calm and polite voice, with floo powder in her hands. “See you around Draco.”

“And I thought, you were finally serious for once.” Narcissa sighed before sinking down into one of the many chairs Draco had in his living room.

Draco wanted to say something sarcastic in response but he bit his tongue and held it all back. There were more pressing matters at hand that required his attention. Like helping his mum find an appropriate match for Blaise who has so casually placed such a huge responsibility on his shoulders.

The responsibility required him to go on multiple, rather tiresome “dates” set up by his mother.

The first girl he met mistook him for Blaise.

The second girl he met confessed that she was being coaxed into the meeting by her overbearing parents and had a secret Muggle boyfriend that she loved with her whole heart.

The third girl he met was one of Blaise’s ex girlfriends.

The fourth girl turned out to be one of Draco’s own one night stands that had ended on a sour note.

It was safe to say that Draco returned to his mother that night with his shirt stained burgundy from the wine she’d poured over his head. He deserved it though.

Narcissa even agreed that he’d deserved it because she broke into a chuckle when her son walked into the Malfoy Manor with drops of wine falling from his blond hair.

“Well this is a disaster.” Draco muttered to his mother who gave him an accomplished looking smile in return.

“This was a Disaster.” She quipped, before leaning towards the coffee table to pour herself some more tea. “Luckily, I’ve already found someone I deem to be a suitable partner for Blaise.”

“You have?”

“I have. I too have been pulling some reins and meeting people personally for Blaise. He is like a son to me after all.”

“Looks like I got splashed with a vintage red for no apparent reason then.” Draco muttered before using his wand to summon a clean cotton shirt.

Narcissa simply shook her head at her son and stood up from her chair. “I’ve actually invited her for tea today so that you’d be able to meet her as well. Why don’t you fix your hair and put on a clean shirt before she gets here hm?”

Draco knew there was no point in arguing with his mother.

When Narcissa Malfoy wanted things done, she’d sure as hell go ahead and get them done. A true Slytherin she was.

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and used a cleaning charm on his hair. He would have preferred to shower but he didn’t really have the time to dilly-dally around.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He heard a voice say, just as he was about to put on his clean shirt.

It was a familiar voice and it raised prickling goosebumps all over his exposed flesh.

The goosebumps were a natural reaction to hearing a voice he’d replayed over and over in his head every single night for the last four months.

In front of him stood Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh. Very much real and not a ghost of his imagination, clad in a blush coloured midi dress with a sweetheart neckline.

He opened his mouth to answer but his mother beat him to it.

“Welcome to our home. Sit down, have some tea with us.” Narcissa said in her best hostess voice and all Draco could do was force his hanging jaw shut.

~~~~~~

The next few hours felt like the longest yet shortest few hours of his life.

He was still processing the fact that he had in fact seen the girl, the ghost, the memory right in front of his eyes, wearing a dress that made her look like a scene in a vintage film.

His palms were sweaty, his head was reeling, his throat was as dry as the Sahara and he could barely pay any attention to a word his mother was saying.

“Draco?” Narcissa cleared her throat when he failed to respond. “Draco dear, are you listening?”

“Yes mother.” He replied curtly before taking a sip of his tea in a desperate attempt to soothe his throat.

After what seemed like another torturous hour of tea and polite conversation, you thanked Narcissa for having you and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before taking the floo network.

“The Y/l/n family has been a friend to our family for years.” Narcissa commented. “I think Blaise would be rather fond of y/n. What do you think, Draco?”

He wanted to tell his mother about the time he spent with you four months ago.

He wanted to tell her that he was ready for a serious relationship if it was with you.

He never really cared for the colour pink but it suddenly felt like a rather nice colour.

You were witty, clever, sincere and extremely gorgeous. Of course Blaise would like you. He’d be a fool not to.

After taking a few more seconds to carefully contemplate the situation at hand, Draco finally opened his mouth.

“Yes, I think Blaise would like Y/n.”

Narcissa looked at him with a satisfied smile and the weight of a fully grown giant landed on Draco’s shoulder.

Maybe you weren't Blaise’s cup of tea.

Maybe he’ll get back together with Daphne. Yeah, that would be perfect.

But what if he didn’t?

Could Draco live his whole life knowing that he was absolutely smitten with his Best Friend’s soon to be Fiancée?

~~~

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