Leon Side Blog

Leon side blog! pfp by the wonderful @kennystrator CrochetBoy on AO3

[leonwritesfanfic]

Yooooo, given how much I reblog on my main account (@leonshortforleo), I've decided to make a side blog for my works! This will hopefully make it easier for people to find my stuff, especially the Waterboy x Peter Parker fic I'm currently working on!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika

Argyroneta Aquatica Masterlist

Also available on AO3!

TW: heavy gender dysphoria (FtM), past toxic relationships, canon-typical violence, panic attacks, homophobia, transphobia, deliberately outing and deadnaming someone, mention of a suicide attempt (it happens off-screen and is a VERY background character)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen -> can be found on my AO3 coz it's (light) ✨NSFW✨

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty -> the second half can be found on my AO3 coz it's NSFW

Homo Sapiens Anthropisces (Freshwater Mermaids)

TW: Peter is kidnapped, treated, and held against his will while he heals, however Herman does his best to make it as comfortable as possible for him! Therefore, warning for kidnapping and non-consensual medical procedures, drug usage, and touching

Chapter One

Chapter Two

[leonwritesfanfic]

Argyroneta Aquatica Chapter Twenty

{in which Herm's feeling well enough to get out again!}

This chapter is so short because the other 3,000 words are just smut! You can find it on my AO3, or wait for the start of the next chapter, where I will summarise it if you don't wanna read!

The lights around the outdoor movie theatre came back on as the credits rolled. Peter stretched, back popping, and stood up to help Herm pack up their stuff. “I’m glad you’re feeling better enough to get out, babe,” Peter commented as they put their snacks away.

“‘Babe’, huh?” Herm observed.

“What?” he giggled. “It’s cute. Or is it too cringe?”

Herm gave him a fond look. “N-Never with you.”

“Cutie.” The back of his neck tingled. He stilled and glanced around. Moviegoers, cinema staff, a kid being berated by their mum… nothing out of the ordinary.

“What’s— everything? All good?” Herm asked, also pausing to scan their surroundings.

“…Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Something felt… off…” He trailed off and resumed putting their cups and plates away, trying to shake the feeling of ants crawling all over his skin. He had goosebumps.

“You, uh, sure you’re all— i-it’s okay?” Herm pressed, folding the picnic blanket.

He nodded and picked up his share of their picnic equipment. “Yeah, all good.” The feeling finally subsided as a gust of wind combed through his hair.

“Uhm, so, I gotta get home t-to— M-Ma needs help,” Herm began.

He fell into an easy stride beside his boyfriend. “Mm?”

“D’you, uh, d’you wanna… come with?”

He grinned and looked at the grass as he asked, “Herm, are you… inviting me to stay the night?”

“Um,” Herm chuckled lightly, “yeah…”

“I’d love to, babe,” he replied.

“I’d, um, love that t-too, babe,” Herm responded.

[leonshortforleo]

Dispatch ANGST ideas

(ok not really, I just wanted to project my medical conditions onto the Dispatch universe teehee) Gn!Reader TW: mentions of death and gross body stuff in the second hypothetical

As someone with eczema, I've found that letting water air dry on my skin paradoxically makes it dry out and flare up.

So y'know what would suck?

Reader with eczema who is in love with Waterboy. He's perfect in literally every way: he's such a sweetheart and gentleman, he's kind, funny, loving, adorable, hot as fuck, etc etc...

But he's constantly leaking water. Constantly. Which means whenever they touch, the reader has to grab a towel and dry off so their eczema isn't set off. It makes sleeping in the same bed impossible because the sheets collect water that then presses into reader's skin all night. Now, one of them could completely burrito themself in a water-proof blanket, but it isn't guaranteed to stay wrapped around them all night and lowkey defeats the purpose of sharing a bed coz then they can't cuddle properly. They have both given it a go, and trying to sleep in a wetsuit is genuinely impossible.

Not to mention, every time the reader has a new patch of rash, a little voice in the back of Waterboy's head immediately takes full credit, even if it definitely wasn't his fault. On the flipside, the reader knows how much Waterboy's powers have tanked his self-confidence and hates that their skin directly contributes to the whole "my water is a burden to those around me" story his brain insessantly tells him. So whenever the reader has a flareup, stops touching Waterboy to dry off, or says "no" to intimacy due to their skin, it sets off both of their guilt and anxieties about making the other person's life worse.

I also have ✨malignant hyperthermia✨ (abbreviated as MH)

Basically, it puts me at risk of fatally overheating. While it can be triggered by certain anaesthetic agents, it can also be triggered by exercise in extreme heat.

So what if the reader had it? This could go two ways, I reckon:

1: they know about it. If they're a hero, they can't work in the sun or on hot days (unless it's solely indoors – idk how that would work unless they could teleport or catch a lift to calls though). Maybe they're more like Robert, and they pilot a machine that has a strict interior climate, or they sit at a desk and operate a drone remotely? (what I'm getting at is that a big fuckass mech is an accessibility requirement of mine /silly)

2: they're a hero and don't know about it, and being sent out on a more physically-demanding call (such as chasing someone down on a hot summer's day or teaching an outdoor sports class) causes them to have a MH meltdown that the people around them chalk up to heatstroke. They're sat in the shade, given some water, and told to take some deep breaths for a few minutes. It has to get to the point that they're delirious (like, slurring their words and hallucinating) or have passed out before someone takes them seriously.

Alternatively, they're injured badly enough that they need an ambulance to take them to hospital. They're given a green whistle (an inhaled pain relief standard in most ambulances), which triggers a MH meltdown. The scary part? Because of how rare malignant hyperthermia is, ambulances don't stock the reversal agent, meaning they need to get to hospital as soon as fucking possible so their muscles don't melt to the consistency of plasticine.

Either way

The reader can't work with (or worse, fall for) Flambae because it would genuinely put their life at risk. Imagine being out on a stressful call that requires a lot of physical exertion, only to get close to the human fireball for long enough that your muscles and organs start literally melting.

If the reader doesn't know about their MH, they could flirt with and get to know Flambae and realise they have a chance at an awesome relationship... before having a life-threatening meltdown that finally gets them diagnosed.

Even worse: what if Flambae triggered that meltdown? Maybe he and the reader had been flirting and teasing each other for weeks before finally hooking up (which is physical exertion, like exercise) and he was so excited that he started warming up hotter than he usually is. As things are getting pretty hot and heavy, suddenly the reader starts hyperventillating and clutching him. He first thinks they're really enjoying themself, but when they start seizing up and jerking around violently, he panics. Did he hurt them? Are they having a seizure?!!

Worst of all, though? He realises they feel hot to the touch. Human fireball Flambae feels cooler in comparison to them.

I hope you enjoyed my ✨dispatch angst✨ ideas!

Feel free to use these as inspiration for fics/fanart/etc -- just tag me or add them to a reblog of this post so I can see what you've created!!

(I am also happy to beta read/provide insight into living with either condition if you would like!)

Dividers by the very talented @saradika

[leonwritesfanfic]

Argyroneta Aquatica Chapter Nineteen

{in which Chad helps throw an awesome party}

A/N: I'm too lazy to update previous chapters right now, but I changed it so Prism invited them all to a general party at hers, not a Halloween-specific one

“Bae, can you grab that?! It’s Mal and Sonar!” Alice called from the kitchen.

“Yah!” he called back, giving himself a final once-over in her bathroom mirror. He heard Sonar’s telltale screech as he transformed into his humanoid form on her balcony.

“Hey! How’s it going?!” Mal greeted, caution tape wrapped around her chest. She handed Chad a tray of store-bought cupcakes with one hand and held up a carton of beer with her tail.

“Hey! Welcome to the party, bitches!” he greeted, holding the balcony door open.

“Yooo, sweet place!” Sonar commented as he looked around. He’d come in his usual suit and red tie, which hung loosely around his neck, minus a shirt. He noticed Chad staring and scoffed, “No homo, but my eyes are up here.”

“Sorry. Didn’t know you were so… pale,” he mumbled, staring at the bat hybrid’s weirdly peach-toned, hairless torso. Tan nipples poked out from under the large ruff of grey hair — fur? — on his upper chest. Gross. He tore his eyes away and busied himself with fucking up the artistic yet practical selection of food he’d laid out to accommodate the cupcakes. He could make it work if he moved the napkins to the kitchen bench and put away one of the unopened packets of chips.

“Hey! Oh my god, you made it!” Prism sang, rushing over to hug them.

“Hey, babes! Love the fit,” Mal commented.

“Aww, thanks, boo! These were from Flambae,” she replied, pointing to her massive hoop earrings. He’d spent ages looking for ones of her preferred thickness and shade of gold and was proud of how excited she’d been to show them off. “Hey, Bae? Can you please finish up in the kitchen for me?”

“Of course,” he replied as he started the music for the night. Her latest hit, HOES DEPRESSED, started playing in the background.

“Lemme give you guys the grand tour since y’all’re the first ones here!”

He and Ali were in the kitchen, finishing up the last of the cocktail mixes so they didn’t have to worry about following any recipes while wasted. They’d left it til this late so the ice didn’t melt, and Sonar had already tasted Chad’s strawberry daiquiris and suggested adding twice the amount of white rum, much to Chad’s annoyance. He poured himself a small glass and rolled his eyes. It tasted fucking awesome. The doorbell rang.

“Can you please grab that?” Ali asked again, swaying to the music as she measured out the last of the vodka for the blue lagoons.

“Yah, lemme just finish this,” he replied, dumping three of the tiny edible glitter bottles into the punch. He sashayed his way over and grabbed the front door and stopped dead in his tracks. “What the fuck?!”

“Hey! Thanks for the invite,” Cumslinger greeted awkwardly.

“Did you two not read the invite? Prism specifically requested some ass,” he scolded.

Webbitch and Wet Wipe glanced at each other. A pool was forming on the navy carpet at their feet and threatened Prism’s recently-polished floors.

“Who is it?!” Prism called.

“Cumslinger and Waterbitch! And they’re dressed like fucking mormons!!” he called back. He examined them again.

Webhead wore a long-sleeve fishnet shirt, jeans that looked three sizes too big, and a crappy, hand-dyed t-shirt flaunting some wonky, vaguely edgy symbol. Wetbitch wasn’t much better: if it weren’t for his pitiable, self-conscious demeanour, Chad would guess the man didn’t know that ripped skinny jeans and a ripped, skin-tight t-shirt didn’t suit him at all. While he was surprised to see Wetbitch had piercings and eyeliner, they both looked like emo tryhards from the 2010s.

His eyebrows raised. “The fuck’s with the IKEA bag, bitch?” Who brings that much stuff to someone else’s party?!! Had Wetfartbitch seriously doubted their ability to throw Alice a wicked birthday?!

“I-I um— they’re, uh— I have towels!” Waterbitch stuttered, eyes wide. “And, th-there’s also. We have a tarp. Too.”

“Generous,” he acknowledged, leaving the door open to invite them in and returning to the kitchen with Alice.

“Hey, thanks so much for coming!” she greeted. “Lemme show you the quiet room!”

Webhead looked around, eyes wide in wonder as he took in Ali’s incredible style and Chad’s equally phenomenal decorating skills. They’d hung disco balls, streamers, and fairy lights from her high ceilings and spent hours with the help of his niece to make disco ball planters and vases. Spiderbitch seemed excited to see a photo booth and sunglasses decorating station in the corner. He smirked before moving to set the punch and other alcohol out. Being the incredible best friend that he was, he’d taken it upon himself to design little signs for all the food and drink and get them printed at their local Staples. He’d already labelled all the food, so he busied himself with arranging the drinks table and ensuring everything was stylishly, yet obviously, labelled.

“‘Bout fucken time you showed up, bitch!” Chad chastised. “We were starting to think you’d died or some shit.”

“Robert! There y’are, big man! We were gettin’ worried!” Punch shouted.

“Hey! So sorry I’m late. Beef had an accident,” Robert explained.

Chad crossed his arms and leant on the doorway. “Right. And what the fuck’re you s’posed to be? Pathetic, dollar store Gordon Ramsay?” Robert even had a store-bought vegetable platter and a bottle of wine.

“Carmy,” the dispatcher replied like it was obvious. “…y’know, from The Bear?”

“Never seen it,” he replied, stepping back to let Robert inside.

“Hah. Neither, actuall—”

“Roberto! Oh my god, you made it!” Prism squealed, running over to give him a massive hug. “Ohmygod we missed you!”

“Hey, Prism! I’m so sorry I’m late, Beef had an accident,” Robert replied, unsurely returning the hug. “Happy birthday!”

“Awww, thank you! Is that little hippo okay?!”

“Yeah, he’s fine, just peed on my mattress,” Robert replied. “…um… you can let go now.”

“Wait shit, it’s your birthday?” Punch piped up.

Prism let go of the hug and Robert handed her the bottle of wine. “Aww, hoe, you shouldn’t have! Nobody was meant to know ‘cept Bae.”

Chad laughed to break the tension and stepped in. “Yah, yah, we get it, Robbo’s fucking amazing. Who the fuck brings a vegetable platter to someone’s party, you basic white bitch?!”

Robert shrugged. “Well, someone had to be responsible.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Right. We get it, Bob Bob, you’re so much better than us.”

“Can I get you anything to drink? We got beer and cocktails!” Prism squealed. “You seem like a daiquiri kinda guy!”

“Y’know, for someone whose diet is solely Twinkies and coffee, I’m actually impressed you own an apron, Robbo,” Chad observed loudly over the party. Visi had cranked the music up when she and Mal started dancing, and others had quickly joined in. Even Wetbitch had joined in, standing on his stupid towel next to Cumslinger and pulling the most awkward “moves” (if you could even call his weird twitching that) known to man.

Robert laughed and took a long sip of beer. “I didn’t until this afternoon. I bought it and this t-shirt a couple hours ago.”

He was so surprised he choked on his blue lagoon like a virgin giving their first blowjob. “You didn’t fucking own a white t-shirt until fucking this afternoon?!”

Robert laughed again and shrugged. “Yeah. What, should I be embarrassed?”

Chad sighed and laid his head in his hands. “I was worried your interpretation of ‘sexy’ would be undoing one extra button on your work shirt, but now I’m hearing that you don’t even have a wardrobe?! Please tell me you own other shirts than your fucking work ones?!”

Robert shrugged. “Well, I do have gym clothes.”

“Ow, fuck, you wound me!” he lamented. “Fucking hell, bitch!! Next time we go out, you’re coming to mine first to borrow some actually decent clothing. Fucking hell, I need another drink.” He got up dramatically and smoothed down his golden shawl.

Robert laughed loudly and smirked. “What, you trying to get me undressed?”

He pulled a face and quickly shook his head. “In your wet dreams, you perverted bitch,” he teased. “You’re not my type.”

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to make things weird,” Robert apologised, focusing on his beer. “I should probably be switching to water anyway.”

“What? No, chill, I was joking,” he amended, quickly adding, “As in I wasn’t offended. You wish you had a chance with an ass this good.” He turned and flexed his large biceps for good measure before strutting back to the kitchen. Someone as pathetically boring as Robert should be happy that someone as incredible as Chad gave him the time of day. Yet, because he was as charitable as he was strong, Chad was actually willing to hold conversation with the man. God, he was actually a fucking saint.

[leonwritesfanfic]

Some notes I took from cleaning my keyboard

[leonwritesfanfic]

Everyone please admire the stained glass Mecha Man design I did :3

He will become real and breakable within the next few days 😈

(Timelapse under the cut to prove I’m not AI muahahaha)

[leonwritesfanfic]

Showed my dad and his first comment was "woah, you made that? so cool! You used AI, right?" 💀

[leonwritesfanfic]

Everyone please admire the stained glass Mecha Man design I did :3

He will become real and breakable within the next few days 😈

(Timelapse under the cut to prove I’m not AI muahahaha)

[leonwritesfanfic]

Homo Sapiens Anthropisces (Freshwater Mermaids) Chapter Two

{in which Peter undergoes a drastic move}

He trilled and chirped in excitement, gills and ear spines puffing up as Herman approached the door. He was finally going to his new tank!! “Big tank! Big tank! Big tank!!” he chirped.

Herman didn’t look so happy. The male closed the door behind himself and didn’t approach the water. “Peter, can you be honest with me?”

He nodded. “Yes. What wrong?”

Herman sighed. “Is it true that you bit Robert yesterday?”

He growled and nodded again. “Yes. Robert is mean. Robert hurt I-Peter.”

Herman tilted his head. “Aww, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened, exactly?”

“Robert say, ‘I-Robert unwrap Peter tail.’ I-Peter say, ‘no, I-Peter unwrap Peter tail.’ Robert get angry and grab I-Peter, so I-Peter bite Robert. I-Peter not bite hard, just warning.”

Herman sighed and nodded. “Okay, I can see what happened, that makes sense. Still—” he sighed again, heavily “—you can’t bite people, okay, Peter? I know Robert wanted to unwrap your tail himself, but you can’t just bite him. I worry what will happen if you feel threatened by me: when I heard that you bit him, I got worried that you might bite me in the future, and I don’t— I-I want to feel safe around you.”

He huffed, gills fluttering and ear spines flexing. “Robert grab I-I-Peter,” he explained. “Robert mean.”

“That’s, that’s not what I saw, Peter. You see that thing above the door?” He nodded. “That’s a camera. Wh-When my boss, um, told me this morning that you bit Robert, I asked to see the footage. Uh, the camera records everything that happens in the room. What I-I saw was Robert ask nicely twice if he could unwrap your tail, and you didn’t respond, so he tried unwrapping it. Is that what you remember?”

He huffed and sank back into the water. So much for his big tank. He curled up at the bottom like he had on the first day and scrubbed his eyes. He didn’t really remember, if he was being honest. Had Robert asked him nicely? Hadn’t he responded with a firm “no”? He’d probably just been too panicked or tired to communicate properly. Maybe he’d said it in Mer, instead. He really liked Herman and really didn’t want to be stuck with some human who didn’t understand him. He took a couple of deep breaths and pulled himself up via the ladder.

He looked around.

Herman was gone.

He shrieked and dragged himself out of the tank. Was Herman angry with or scared of him? He called out frantically, cooing for his friend. He heard footsteps and twisted to see the door. He sighed with relief. Herman was coming back to him, pushing something in front of him. Herman opened the door and pushed the thing inside.

“I-Peter, I-Peter sorry. P-Peter panic wh-when Robert say, ‘Robert unwrap Peter tail’, s-so I bite.”

Herman visibly relaxed and bent down. This was the closest they had ever been outside of when Herman was tending to his wounds. “Thank you for your apology, Peter. I could see o-on the footage that you were r-really scared. Can I trust you n-not to bite me, e-even if I accidentally s-scare you?”

He nodded. “H-Herman safe with Peter. Even if, even if Peter scared. P-Peter no more bite.”

Herman smiled at him. He was… beautiful. Before he could speak, though, Peter was already dragging himself towards the contraption. Was it big tank time?

“Ah! Careful, careful, Peter! Don’t hurt yourself,” Herman warned. “You ready to go to your new tank?”

“Yes! Yes yes yes!!” he chirped, bouncing in his spot with excitement.

“Awesome! Do you know what this is?” Herman asked, gesturing to the thing he had pushed into the room. He shook his head and lunged forward to grab it. Herman chuckled. “This is a wheelchair. Do you want to get in, or do you want me to lift you in?”

“Peter do it,” he replied, already pulling himself into it. It rolled backwards and he hissed in frustration.

“Oops, wait! Here, now try,” Herman replied, holding it in place.

He clambered into it and excitedly settled in, trilling and cooing in excitement. He pulled his tail up and held it in his arms excitedly. “Ready!”

“Oop, not quite. You wanna sit in it.”

He frowned. “Sit?”

“Yeah, so, uh, y’know your anal slit?” He cocked his head. Herman’s cheeks went a bit pink. “Your, uh, your back slit? Behind you?” Ohh. He nodded. “Yeah so, that— you want that u-underneath you, and you want to be facing forwards, aw-away from me. Then your, uh, your tail’s middle joint rests at the edge of the seat.”

He twisted in the wheelchair until his tail hung from in in front of him and his back was leaning against Herman’s lower torso. “Better?”

“Yeah! So, see these, uh, these handles here?” He nodded again, looking down near his tail where Herman was now crouching. “These are your brakes. You pull them this way to stop your chair, and this way to let the wheels move. Do you want to push yourself, or do you want me to do it?”

“Peter do it!” he insisted highly, bouncing again with excitement.

“Okay. Put your hands here,” Herman instructed, pointing to the large, circular frames on the outside of the wheels, “o-on either side, and push downwards.”

He gripped the frames tightly and gave an experimental push. The whole wheelchair moved forwards. He squealed happily and did it again. He was moving!! “I-I move!”

Herman laughed. “You sure do, Peter! Uh, to-to turn, you wanna push just one wheel forwards while you hold the other, yeah?” He tried doing just that and turned quickly until he was facing Herman. He chirruped and sprayed water at Herman happily. The male tried to protect himself with his long, thing arms. “H-Hey!” Herman was smiling. “You wanna follow me to your new tank?”

“Yes! Yes! Follow Herman!”

It wasn’t too far of a journey. He kept up with Herman very easily, looking around at the building as he did so. It was quite large, and full of people. On the way, he spotted Robert heading down a different path. He stopped and sharply turned the wheelchair, almost tipping over. “You-Robert! You-Robert!” he called.

Robert turned around and shouted when he saw him barrelling towards him in the wheelchair. “Peter! What the hell are you doing?!”

He came to a stop in front of the man. “I-I-Peter, uh, sorry for bite. Robert try to help, but Peter scared a-and bite Robert. Sorry.”

Robert relaxed a little. “Ah. Well, thanks for apologising, Peter.” Robert rubbed his upper arm where he’d bitten the male the day before. It was wrapped in fabric similar to that around his tail.

“Peter!” Herman called, rushing down the corridor to meet them. “Peter! Don’t go charging off without me!”

“I-Peter sorry,” he replied. “Peter a-apologise to, to Robert for bite. I-Peter ne-never bite you-Herman.”

“Hey, I probably should have made sure you answered me before I tried to touch you,” Robert replied.

“Yes,” he agreed.

Robert snorted. “Well, you guys off to Peter’s new tank?” he asked Herman.

“Yes! You ready to go, Peter? You wanna see your new tank?”

“Yes! Peter follow Herman! Go, go!”

Peter trilled the loudest he had in years. He was back in the water. His tail had healed enough for him to swim properly for the first time in two weeks. He surfaced and sang happily. The area itself was fine: the land side was more concrete with a small patch of grass and a couple of attempts at gardens around the walls, while the water side was a large rectangle probably five or six times his height in length, and double his height in depth. The bottom was covered in pebbles. The right wall even had an “observation deck”, as Herman had called it, which was a large wooden structure the humans could walk on over the water. The walls of the tank were covered in boulders and large rocks, giving plenty of cracks for algae and seagrass to grow. He even had his own den!! It was below the observation deck, and was kind of like a cave that only he could enter. There wasn’t even a camera or any glass for him to be watched through. It had some very short seagrass growing on its floor, but it was more than enough for him for the time being. But perhaps best of all was the massive skylight over the water, which would allow him to bathe in the moonlight and regenerate some of his magic and energy.

Herman grinned at him from the land side. “You happy, Peter?” he called.

“Yes! Yes!” His eyes widened as he had an idea. “Herman come in water?!”

“You want me to come swimming with you?” the man asked.

He nodded. “Yes! Herman in water! Herman in water! Herman in water!” he chanted.

Herman pushed himself to his feet. “Alright, alright!” He climbed down the ladder and pushed off the wall to join him.

He squealed and tackled the man, dragging him under in excitement. They’d finally get to play fight! He’d been too sick and cramped in the previous tank, but now he had room to move he could barely wait!! Herman struggled against him, clearly thinking his inferior human muscles could win. He dragged the man further down, thrashing along with him enthusiastically. God, he’d missed this! Maybe the lack of physical contact and playing with another being was also deteriorating his tail? He constricted Herman tighter and nibbled on his neck, careful to not breach his clothing as they played. As Herman struggled harder, it dawned on him that Herman’s gills didn’t work well, if at all. Shit! He let the man go, and Herman hurriedly made his way to the surface.

He surfaced shortly after, splashing water at Herman in mock annoyance. He stilled. Herman was gasping and coughing, his chest jerking violently. “Herman hurt?” he worried, rushing over. Herman weakly held out a hand to stop him, breathing hard as he gripped the ladder. Shit shit shit! He floated next to the man nervously, helplessly watching as he coughed up more water. “Herman okay?”

Herman nodded shakily and drew his first normal-sounding breath. “Yeah—” he coughed again “—yeah I-I’m, I’m okay.”

He chewed the inside of his cheek. “P-Peter too rough?”

Herman nodded faintly and managed to shoot him a shaky smile. “Yeah, uh, a-a lil bit. I’m okay. You just, ugh, you scared me.”

He whimpered. “So-Sorry. I-Peter forget Her-Herman gills not work.”

Herman smiled weakly. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I’m okay. Just. Just no dragging me under, o-okay? An-And, uh, please warn me be-before you tackle me again, yeah?”

He nodded. “Okay. Water spitting okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, water spitting’s fine. Just not too much. I-I gotta be able to breathe through my mouth and nose, yeah?” He nodded again and spat a small puff of water at Herman experimentally. Herman chuckled and spat some back. He spat more back in retaliation, shrieking with laughter when Herman lightly splashed him. “You have, you have the nicest laugh, Peter.”

He cooed in response, surprising himself. “W-Want to play chase, you-Herman?”

Herman cocked his head. “Oh yeah, how’d you play?”

“Herman chase Peter, when Herman catch Peter, Peter chase Herman.”

“Oh, yeah sure! For humans, we call that ‘it’ or ‘tag’. Or ‘chasey’. Whoever’s it has to, uh, tag the other person, then it’s their turn to be it.”

“Go!” he called out, ducking back into the water and darting away. Herman swam after him. He ducked and weaved out of the way easily, cackling with laughter every time Herman’s hand shot out to grab him. They played like that for ages, splashing, chasing, and spitting water at each other for a good forty-five minutes. When Herman had to leave to get back to work, he spat a large jet of water at his back, chortling when Herman shot him a pretend dirty look.

Peter lay on his back, treasuring the space he had to float as his mind mimicked his body. He wondered what his pod were up to, if they missed him, how his aunt and siblings were going. He warbled for them mournfully, echoes filling the concrete space. He had been so excited to see the big tank, but now that he was here… It had been two days, and he was bored out of his mind and homesick so badly it physically hurt to breathe. With nobody but his crushing loneliness, he began to sing to himself in his native tongue. He called out for his family, his home, his brother and sisters and aunt. His chest shook with the force of his emotions, big heaving sobs ripping from his small body. He so desperately wanted to return home, where he knew every rock and crevice like the scales along the back of his hand. Even they had changed, though. Where pretty, iridescent green had clung to the backs of hands and trailed up his arms, greyish scales now hung from his flaky skin.

A knock at the door to his enclosure had him darting down to his den. He shook, gills puffing as he caught his breath in the water. He poked his head out to see Herman standing by the tank’s edge looking for him. He pushed off of the wall of the den, allowing himself to float over aimlessly. He eventually bumped into the concrete wall beneath Herman and gently pulled himself up to flop next to the man, tail still half in the pool.

“Peter! Hey, how you, how you going?”

He groaned, his head on its side so he could see Herman’s weird foot clothing. It had a thick, fairly stiff base, unlike the rest of the fabric making up his clothing. He briefly wondered what the man’s ankles tasted like — they certainly looked fun to nibble on. And then they were moving, and he realised Herman was bending down to sit next to him. He tilted his head to look up at the man.

“What’s wrong, Peter? You seem s-sad.”

He grunted noncommittally and looked away. How did he even begin to describe the ache in his soul? “W-Want pod…” he mumbled.

Herman’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I-I bet. Do you want to tell me about them while I do your checkup?”

He nodded gloomily and pulled himself the rest of the way out of the water.

Herman’s gentle, caring touches, constant checking that he was comfortable, and quiet listening helped a lot. He described his brother, three sisters, aunt, and several cousins, all of whom made up his pod. The checkup ended when the force of his suffering had him shaking and crying. It was the first time he’d ever cried as an adult, and it really hurt that his body had betrayed him this badly in front of someone else.

“Hey, hey, shhh,” Herman soothed gently, rubbing soothing circles in his back, “it’s okay. You-You’ll get to see them soon, yeah? We should be able to release you soon after the next full moon.”

“Want home,” he mourned, leaning into Herman. Herman wrapped his arms around him, quietly soothing him. Eventually, the man moved one hand to gently stroke through his hair. He shivered and cooed at the touch. Herman hesitated, his hand stilling. He grumbled and moved Herman’s hand in a similar motion to what he’d just been doing.

Herman chuckled and resumed. “Yo-You like that, huh?”

He trilled quietly in response, nuzzling further into the man’s chest. After a little longer, he remembered something his grandma had always done to cheer him up when he’d been down. He looked up at Herman. “H-Herman sing?”

Herman looked down at him in surprise. “Wha?”

“You-Herman sing? I-Peter s-sad. Y-You-Herman sing, maybe I-Peter then happy?”

“Y-You want me to… sing to you?” He nodded. “Umm… o-okay. Okay, uh, let me think of a song. H-Hold up…”

He watched as Herman pulled his phone out and began scrolling on it. After a few moments, he decided on a song and began to sing. It wasn’t his own song, which did hurt a little bit, but his voice was still stunning. Herman then played it for him afterwards — Jasey Rae (Acoustic) by All Time Low. Herman’s voice sounded so much prettier.

Peter had a few more handlers visit him throughout the week when Herman couldn’t, though none were as kind. He’d met Ema, Scott, and Riley, all of whom were fun, but nowhere near as patient as Herman. Scott had properly play fought with him, though, which had been a lot of fun! The human had weird, thick, almost rocky skin, making him hard to properly injure. Their session was the most fun he’d had in ages given he was allowed to freely try to bite the man… until it had been ruined when Scott mistook his slit for a “weird wound” and went to check for bleeding. He’d shrieked, shoved himself back into the water, and wouldn’t come out of his den until Herman swam down to coax him out. Ever the kind, patient, gentle man that he was, Herman did not enter his den, and instead gently encouraged him to come out and talk about what had happened.

Fast forward to now, where Peter was eagerly waiting at the edge of the pool “Herman!” he shrieked excitedly. Robert had had to give him the first meal earlier that morning, explaining that Herman had “missed the bus” and was therefore “running late” — whatever that meant. When Peter saw his favourite handler approaching with a tray of fish, he couldn’t help his squealing and trilling.

Herman grinned at him. “Hey! Peter! S-Sorry I missed your breakfast! I missed my bus, so-so I had to walk to work!” He playfully spat water at the man, giggling when Herman pretended to be offended. “I-If you don’t want it, I-I can put this food back, mister.”

He trilled in desperation. “No! No, please! I-Peter hungry!”

Herman bent down at the edge of the pool, holding the tray out of reach like it would stop him. His grumble was quickly replaced with shy cooing upon Herman scratching his head and playing with his hair. “D’you remember what we said about using names, Peter? You don’t need to when you talk about yourself, u-unless you’re introducing yourself.” He grumbled and flicked his head up to playfully bite at Herman’s hand. “Hey!” Herman laughed. “I’m not going to give you food until you ask me nicely in clear English, okay?”

He went to growl, but stopped himself. The last time he’d been aggressive, Herman had been scared that he’d one day be on the receiving end. He sighed. “M-My name Peter. I-I hungry, please?” he tried.

Herman laughed, the force of it hard enough to throw off his balance. The man landed unceremoniously on his ass, a big grin on his face. “That was so cute, Peter! But no, I-I already know your name. C’mon, try again.”

He growled softly, his gills flaring despite his best efforts to stay calm. “Herman!” he whined. “You mean,” he pouted as his stomach growled.

“Hey, I know, I know. I’m asking you a really hard question and you’re hungry. Can you try one more time?”

He huffed and nodded. English was stupid. He could do this. “I hungry. You give f-food, please?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Herman encouraged, handing him over the tray.

He happily scoffed down the fish and prawns he’d been given, humming to himself as he ate. Herman was looking at something on his phone, so he playfully squirted water at him to get his attention.

“Hey! Oh, you done already?”

“Yeah! Herman in water?” he asked, tail twitching in excitement.

“You wanna go swimming together?”

He trilled. “Yeah! Yeah!”

Herman sighed and nodded. “I will, after one thing, okay? So you don’t accidentally hurt anyone, my boss has asked me to cut your nails again. If you let me do that, I’ll go swimming with you for half an hour. Deal?”

He whined. “Wh-Why?” He flexed his fingers, watching as the scales on the backs of his hands shimmered very faintly. They’d almost returned to their usual turquoise. His claws still weren’t as sharp as they had been before being attacked by the fishing boat, but they now had much better bite to them than when he’d first woken up to find them reduced to little more than stubs.

“Hey, I know it sucks. It’s just so you don’t hurt anyone, yeah?” Herman reiterated, pulling his medical bag over from behind him.

He was mobile enough to pull his tail up now and hug it for comfort. He whined again. They weren’t exactly pretty, but he liked his claws. They were good for defense and playing and ripping apart food. “I-I not scratch anyone. I o-only bite Robert b-because I-Peter scared.”

“I know. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t have to cut your claws either. But my boss, Mandy, is worried that you might accidentally scratch someone. I don’t have to cut them back as much as Alice did when you first came here, okay? I just need to cut off the tips, and then we can swim together for half an hour. How does that sound?”

He whimpered. “H-Hurt?”

Herman tilted his head. “Are you worried it might hurt?” He whimpered again and nodded. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I promise it won’t hurt — and if it does, we’ll stop and you can keep them that length, yeah?”

He hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. Swimming and playing with Herman for half an hour sounded awesome. “…okay.”

“Do you wanna see what I’ll be using to cut them first?” Herman offered, opening his medical bag. He pulled out a very odd looking tool: it was mostly long and flat, but then suddenly got wider at one end, where two differently sized loops stuck out, coated in a black material. “Have you ever seen a pair of scissors?” Herman passed it to him and he hesitated. It was shiny. But Herman had said that humans gave each other shiny things all the time, so it didn’t mean anything… Then again, Herman had also said he would consider it courting if he ever received a shiny from Peter. Was Herman courting him?! He squeaked and turned the tool over in his hands. He frowned. How exactly was this meant to cut things??

“Do you know how to use them?” Herman asked. He looked up. The man had moved a lot closer and was sitting right next to him. His cheeks were a soft but stunning pink. His breath was warm. Peter shook his head and silently gave the tool back. Right, Herman had not gifted him the shiny, he was merely showing him how it worked. It was not a gift, just something for him to look at. “Like this…” Herman demonstrated, threading two fingers and his right thumb through the holes. The tool — the scissors — opened up to reveal two blades that had been concealed by sitting against each other. The two black loops were handles. Fascinating. He watched as Herman made some cutting motions with the air. Ahh, each blade was connected to a loop at the other end, and they were held together by a small metal rod in the middle.

Herman gently chuckled. His breath was warm against Peter’s face. “You ready for me to trim your nails?” he asked, holding out a hand with the palm facing up.

He stalled for a second before mimicking him. With featherlight touch, Herman tenderly turned Peter’s hand over, so his scales were on top, and held it still. Then, the man brought his other hand up — the one holding the scissors — and opened the blades. Peter whimpered, ear spines flattening against the sides of his head.

“It’s okay,” Herman whispered soothingly, pausing to look up from their hands. “I promise it won’t hurt. Can you hold still for me?” He nodded and Herman resumed his position. “You can close your eyes if it’s easier. Would that help?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and held his hand as still as he could. He felt Herman moving against his tail and heard the blades opening again. With another whine, he steeled himself as Herman trimmed his claw.

Snip!

“That’s the first one done, Peter. You’re doing really well,” Herman soothed, rubbing gentle circles into the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

He cracked an eye open. True to his word, Herman had just taken the tip of his claw off, leaving the rest intact. He relaxed against the concrete wall behind him. “Not so bad,” he breathed in relief.

Herman hummed. “Yeah! You ready for me to do the next one?”

He nodded. Herman took his time, very gently trimming the tips off of Peter’s claws. His touch was as gentle as his approach was methodical. Snip, snip, snip. When he was done, Peter tested out their bluntness with the soft parts of his fingers. The very edges were still a bit sharp, but the tips were now flat. He flexed his hands and his scales shimmered briefly. He squealed. They were coming back to life!

“Woah… you have the prettiest scales, Peter,” Herman whispered.

He trilled and threw himself back into the water, darting back to his den to catch his breath. His gills flexed and flared. After a few moments, he heard a splash behind him and poked his head out to see Herman waving at him from the main part of the pool. He squealed and rushed out to tackle him for a brief second before letting him go so he could breathe. They surfaced, both laughing and smiling, and Peter grabbed him in another hug.

“Hey! Wh-What are you doing?” Herman laughed, trying to twist around in Peter’s grip to look back at him. Peter wanted to play fight, badly, but he knew that would scare Herman. So, he did the next best thing: he held him close and just carried him around the pool, cooing happily and singing a song usually reserved for merlings. He enjoyed being this close to Herman. “Y-You gonna carry me ‘round for a while?” Herman asked.

He chirped and hummed in agreement. “Yeah. I-I like Herman.”

“I like you too, Peter,” Herman replied fondly. He used it as an excuse to hold the warm man tighter as he swam.

He lay on his back in the water, gently floating as the sun set. The room was a gorgeous golden orange as he drifted. He flipped in the water and checked his tail. Where it had been all raised and gnarled along the injury weeks ago was now a dull green. The site was still noticeably thicker than the rest of his tail, but not enough to impede his swimming. He checked his claws again. Flat, but otherwise completely undamaged. He checked over the rest of himself. Except for the gash in his side, all of his injuries had healed enough to not need human coverings anymore.

He giggled as he remembered how anxious and aggressive he’d been at the start, how desperate he’d been to rip all his wound care off, return to the ocean, and let nature take its course. He was very glad to have met Herman. While being part mer had helped initially, if he was being honest with himself, it was the man’s soft nature that had won him over. The way he checked every little detail with him, never touched without asking, and explained things to him before doing them.

Herman was also…

Stunning, he realised.

He squealed and shot back into his den. Realistically, though, the man brought him food multiple times a day, was kind, caring, and great to be around, cared about him, liked him back… Maybe he wasn’t the strongest physically, but what made pods work was balancing each other out. Peter could rise to the challenge. He could prove himself physically. Then again, he couldn’t exactly hunt food for Herman right now, and his lack of long-distance swimming was taking its toll on his strength. Hmm… perhaps, instead of showing off physically, he could show off in other ways? He could appeal to Herman’s kind and gentle nature, prove that they could be soft together. Then, when he returned to the ocean, he could help tect Herman from the dangers of the sea. His ear spines flared dramatically as he realised: he wanted to court Herman.

Desperately.

[leonwritesfanfic]

Homo Sapiens Anthropisces (Freshwater Mermaids) Chapter One

Peter, a proud, freshwater mer, wakes up in a facility specially designed for treating and managing injured mythical creatures. Desperate to go home, he's outright aggressive towards the humans that try to help him... until one handler, a tall, lanky man by the name of Herman, decides to actually make an effort to make Peter feel comfortable in captivity. As Peter learns more about Herman and slowly heals from a fishing boat's attempt at trafficking him, he starts to realise he may have more in common with humans than he originally thought. Well, more in common with one particular human, anyway.

TW: Peter is kidnapped, treated, and held against his will while he heals, however Herman does his best to make it as comfortable as possible for him!

Dividers by the talented @saradika

Title inspired by this one redditor

Basically: Dispatch but there's also Spiderman but he's a merman :D

Just in time for mermay as well ☺️

The world slowly came into focus. Peter opened his eyes and groggily looked around. He jolted and darted around frantically in the small space. His tail hung limply below him as he thrashed. The last thing he remembered was being hunted by a fishing boat and getting knotted in a thick net. He looked around. He was in a small concrete tank, except one of the walls was shiny. He was being watched.

A shiver ran down his spine as he stared at his reflection. His scales had lost most of their vibrancy, now a dull, greyish green. Some were even dying and flaking off, by the looks of it. Then there was his tail. His beautiful, brightly patterned tail. It was wrapped from the tip to its middle joint, about halfway up his scaly half. He sank in his new prison and mournfully cooed, trying to call out to his pod. No reply, as he’d predicted. He called out again as he let his eyes wander around the tank slowly, finally noticing a ladder. With no other options, he dragged himself over to it and pulled himself out of the water.

He breached the surface to find that the ladder accessed a small dry area about three times the size of the tank area-wise, but probably about as tall. There was a glass door in one corner with a black object above it. The object moved and a small red light on it flashed. A camera? He flopped onto the dry concrete floor. This was where the helpful human architecture stopped: he had no way to get himself to the door other than clawing his way over. He cried out in shock to see that his claws had been forcefully blunted. They weren’t nubs, but they also weren’t going to be helpful in defending himself against or eating anything.

He whimpered against the cold ground and started dragging himself.

He’d made it maybe two arm lengths when he heard loud, resonant tapping coming from the door. He looked up to see a human male approaching the area he was trapped in. Fuck. He hissed as the male reached the door and frantically pushed himself back towards the tank. The male entered the room and closed the door behind him, bending down. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, big guy. My name’s Robert, I’m going to be taking care of you until you’re well enough to go back into the ocean, okay?”

Peter hissed at “Robert”, baring his teeth as he finally made it to the water. He pushed himself back in, chest heaving with the force of his gills filtering the air. He growled.

“What’s your name, bud?” Robert tried. He hissed again, pressing himself back into the opposite corner of the tank. “I know you can understand me. Do you, uh, have any questions?” Robert tried again.

“Fuck off,” he spat. Robert hadn’t moved from his crouching position by the door, but he didn’t trust for a second that the male didn’t have some sort of weapon or chemical on him.

“Hey, we’re here to help you, okay? We rescued you from marine trafficking boats. They’re the ones who harpooned your tail, but we got you in time to stitch it back together. I don’t know if anyone from your pod has been with us before, but in two weeks, you should be able to move to a bigger tank once it starts healing properly, and then you’ll be back in the ocean in about a month.”

“Ocean!” he hissed. “Take me now!”

“No can do, sorry, bud. The vet said your stitches need to stay in for two weeks to ensure your tail doesn’t rip again when you leave. Now, I have some painkillers and antiseptic I need to rub into your wounds. Would you like me to do it, or do you want to do it yourself?”

“Fuck off,” he hissed again.

“Do you know what infection is?” Robert asked. He looked tired, slumped into himself as he crouched. Peter scowled in return and looked away, seeing if there were any other exits or things he’d missed in his haste to get to the door.

Nothing, just concrete. Fuck!!

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Do you have a name?” He squirted water at Robert, hard enough he was able to hit the male’s legs. Robert expelled air and stood up, making Peter cower more than he’d like to admit. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. There’s actually someone I’d like you to meet.” He unfastened a black object from his hip and spoke into it.

He ducked back underwater, heart pounding as his gills flexed to let him catch his breath properly. Did Robert have a weapon?! Was it some sort of device that humans used to mimic more powerful merfolk song? After a few moments of silence, when his heart had started to slow to its usual speed, he heard a click from the surface. He swallowed heavily and pushed himself back over to the ladder to take a small peek.

There was a human male. Another one. Crouched down stupidly close to the edge of the tank. He breached the surface to get a better look, and, deciding he didn’t like what he saw, spat water at this one too.

“He-Hey! Hey!” the male spluttered, falling backwards. Idiot. He hissed and pushed himself back to the far corner of the cramped tank, staying above water in case the male moved to attack him. “Hey, it’s okay,” the male insisted in that same high, slow tone the other male had used before. “My-My name’s He-Herman. Nice to meet you.” He looked this “Herman” up and down. He was long and dripping wet. He snarled again for good measure and allowed himself to sink again. “He-ey! Hey, wait! I-I’m, I’m one of you!”

He threw his arms out to catch himself against the cold walls and glared over at the male. He didn’t have any ear spines, for a start, but the rest of him was too covered to really tell. He couldn’t see his teeth, either. Still, he was probably just trying anything to get him to cooperate. He huffed. “Explain.”

“Ye-Yeah, see?” Herman insisted, taking off the clothing of his hand. Water spilled from it. He pushed himself a little farther out from the wall to get a proper look. Hm. Herman did have scales on the backs of his hands, though they were translucent like a merling’s and let some of his skin tone through.

He cocked his head and fully pushed off the wall to get closer. He reached for Herman’s hand. The male hesitated for a moment before holding it out. He grabbed it and tugged it closer. Yeah, he definitely had scales, though they were weirdly under-formed for a merfolk his age. “Gills?” he questioned, looking up at the male in confusion. His legs seemed to have fully split from being a tail and he had weird scales, but no ear spines? Was this what happened if you left the water too long?

“Huh? O-Oh, yeah. Here,” Herman replied, grabbing the tab of metal under his chin and pulling down. More water spilled out as he opened his clothing enough to reveal his neck.

A horrified shriek ripped itself out of his lungs. Herman’s gills had been mutilated!! Some hadn’t lifted properly while others did to reveal marred skin underneath. Most looked scarred and malformed. He flung himself backwards into the water and quickly sank. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Is that what would happen to him?!! Would his gills be mutilated if he didn’t behave?!! He sank to the far, far corner of the tank, away from Herman and curled in on himself, shaking.

Herman had tried motioning for him to surface a couple of times since their first meeting, but to no avail. Peter had been left alone in his tank over night, scales slowly flaking further. His tail fin ached from where it had been harpooned and “stitched” back together, as did various other areas of his body. The more painful ones had white squares stuck over them. He wanted to rip them off of him, but his claws were nowhere near sharp enough. Plus, he didn’t want to disturb the wounds further than the humans already had.

After a few pitiful hours of restless sleep, he saw Herman waving at him from the surface again, holding a fish in one hand. His stomach grumbled. He hadn’t eaten in at least two days, maybe more, and he could feel his hunger in the effort it took to drag himself over to the ladder and pull himself up at the promise of food. He surfaced just enough to watch Herman, not pulling himself out of the water any further.

“Good morning!” Herman greeted him cheerfully. “I tried to feed you yesterday, but you didn’t come up! Did you, did you sleep alright?” He didn’t move from where he clung to the ladder, watching the male. After a few silent moments, Herman asked, “Do you want to try eating? You must be hungry.”

He wanted to resist the urge, but the pain deep within was too strong. He slowly pulled himself out of the water and flopped onto the concrete. He bared his teeth at Herman for good measure.

“Here. If you’re still hungry after that, I can get you some more,” Herman explained. He was now sitting and pushed a thin plastic slab towards him with three whole fish on top.

He took the top one and sniffed it. It had been dead for a while. He tore at it. It still tasted sooo good! He shredded the flesh from its wiry skeleton and moved onto the next two, quickly devouring them as well. When he’d finally finished, he looked back over at Herman, who was watching him. His throat rumbled lowly again and his gills flared for good measure.

“Hey, it’s okay. I promise nobody is going to hurt you. I’m really sorry I scared you yesterday. C-Can you tell me, uh, what happened?” Herman asked gently.

He squirmed, realising he hadn’t been able to take his mind or eyes off the human’s neck the entire encounter. “Gills. H-Herman damaged gills.”

Herman was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened and his mouth opened in understanding. “Oohhh! Oh, I should have explained: I’m not actually full merman, I’m only a quarter. No-Nothing bad happened, I was just born like that.”

He cocked his head, trying to understand. “‘Quarter’?” he questioned.

“Oh! Uh, my-my grandfather was a merman, and he and my grandmother had my dad, who was half-merman, and then, and then he and my mum had me, so I’m more human than merman.”

Ohhh, that made more sense. He’d certainly heard of human-merfolk hybrids, but he’d never actually met one before. “Gills — they’re not punishment?”

“Wh-What do you, what do you mean?”

He pointed to Herman and then to his own gills. “Herman bad, so Robert hurt Herman? Robert hurt Herman gills? Or no?”

Herman’s eyes widened again. “Oh!! Oh, no! No, no-no-nobody damaged my gills! I-I was just born like that! Aww, sorry, is that why you fr-freak— why you were scared yesterday?”

He nodded. “So Herman not hurt?”

“No, no, Herman not hurt. Herman okay,” the man explained quickly.

He relaxed against the concrete. “Good.” He sighed and looked around. The room was completely empty apart from the two of them and the tank. “Want home.”

“I know,” Herman sympathised, “I wish I could let you go, but we have to make sure your tail is okay. If we let you go early, your tail could tear again and then you might get really sick or even die. We’re just trying to help you.”

He slumped against the wall behind him and huffed.

“…what’s your name?”

He looked over at Herman. The male had shared his name, the polite thing to do would be to return the honour. He sighed and looked back at his shedding tail. “Peter.”

Herman smiled. “Nice to, nice to meet you, Peter.” He hummed absently and picked at a dead scale on his side. “Your tail hurts, right?” He looked back up and nodded. “Would you. Can I ta-take a look? I might, uh, I-I could help?”

He frowned. “How? Too bad for spit.”

“I know. I have some, uh, some creams I can rub in. They might sting a bit, bu-but they’ll make the pain go away and will keep any cuts clean.”

He frowned further and cocked his head. “Magic?”

Herman laughed. “Yeah! Yeah, kinda! It’s like our healing spit but even better.”

His mouth opened a little bit in surprise. “Be-Better?”

Herman nodded. “Yeah, better than healing spit. Would you like me to try?” He hesitated, fangs baring instinctually. “I can just try on one or-or two spots, if you like? You can, you can see how it goes?”

That seemed more acceptable. He nodded. “Ye-Yes…”

“Perfect. I just left my bag by the door.” Herman scooted himself backwards to the door, keeping himself low to the ground like Peter was. The male then awkwardly shuffled himself back over, bag in tow. He hummed to himself as he opened the bag and pulled out a few tubes and tubs of various things.

Peter didn’t recognise the language, but he caught a few words like “bed” and “hunting”. “What language is that?” he chirped in his pod’s dialect.

Herman chuckled. “You singing along? You have a lovely voice.”

He cocked his head and tried again. “What language?” he prompted. Herman just smiled to himself as he opened two of the tubes. He huffed. “What language?” he tried again in English.

“Hm?” Herman looked up at him. “So-Sorry, what did you say?”

He grunted in frustration and let one of his fangs out in warning. Was this human an idiot, or just careless?? “Language? What language?” he repeated. He mimicked what Herman had just been humming for good measure.

“Oh! Oh, sorry. I was just humming a song. I wasn’t communicating in Mer.” Oh. He’d hoped maybe they had that in common so he didn’t have to keep translating in his head. “Can I unwrap your tail, or would you like to do it?”

“Peter do it.”

“Go-Go for it.”

It took multiple tries, but he finally got a blunted claw under a corner of the wrapping and tore from there. It didn’t last for very long before the strip just completely tore off. He tried again with a different part and it ripped quicker. He tried again and again and again until the wrappings of his tail lay in tatters beneath him. “Done,” he announced once he was satisfied with his work. He tried flexing his tail and hissed at the pain. He gently bent forwards to look at the tail fin, a shriek coming out at the massive gash in it. It looked like the humans had threaded string through it in multiple spots to keep the two sides from separating. He whimpered in pain, more emotional than physical. His beautiful tail! It was all grey and splayed out limply on the concrete, the membrane around the threading raised, puffy, and bruised a horrific purple.

“Does, does it hurt?” Herman asked. He nodded. “Here, would you like to rub this on it, or shall I?” Herman then held out a tub for him to inspect. It held a soft, oily paste inside. He sniffed it and pulled back. It was strong. He brought it to his mouth and tried licking it instead. He recoiled hard enough to bash his head on the concrete wall behind him.

“Bad bad bad,” he spat, shoving the jar back to Herman. “Herman do it.”

“Sorry, I-I should have, uh, clarified. You’re not meant to eat it. Here, like this,” he explained, taking the clothing off his hand. Water sloshed out. He scooped some out with his weak, blunt little human fingers. His claws were pathetic, really. They were far too thin and flat to do anything useful. “Here. It might hurt a bit, but this will help it heal faster, so you’ll be able to go home sooner, yeah?” He nodded and screeched when Herman rubbed it into an open wound, tail jerking. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. You’re doing really well, Peter.” He whimpered as Herman tried a different, smaller cut, but tried his hardest to sit still. Herman looked up at him. “Would you like me to keep going?”

He paused and squirmed in his spot. “Herman rub it on Peter, then Peter go home soon?”

Herman nodded and then hesitated. “W-Well, you’ll get to go home sooner than if I don’t put this stuff on.”

“How long?”

“Well, if I don’t, y-you’ll probably have to stay for, uh, three moons. Maybe more if it gets infected. B-But if I put this stuff on and it works, you should get to go home in two moons, a-and that’s including the full moon next week, so it’ll be more like one and a half.” He whimpered and then snarled at Herman to show his strength. The male did not back away like he had hoped. “I-I know, it sucks. I can stop if you like, but that also means y-you’ll have to stay in the smaller tank for longer.”

He looked away and hissed. “Small tank — why? Wh-Why not big tank?”

“That’s so you don’t have space to move around too much and risk opening your wounds.”

He hung his head and nodded. Pain now would mean getting to return to his pod sooner. He called out for them quietly, the coo echoing in the small space. “Herman continue.”

“I-I can, I can keep going?” Herman clarified. He nodded. Herman at least knew something about Merfolk biology: he completely avoided Peter’s dorsal and ventral slits as he was applying the “salve” to his wounds. He wondered if Herman had human or merfolk genitals.

Herman had had to leave to do other duties, giving him a large, light ball and a couple of smaller, far bouncier ones to entertain him. He spent the time resting in his tank, calling out for his pod, and trying to get some more sleep. Herman returned a few hours later, this time with a human female. She had nice, vibrant hair: one half a healthy turquoise and the other a vibrant pink. Herman tapped on the glass door before letting himself and the female in. Peter pulled himself up the ladder and dragged himself to a sitting position next to it.

Herman smiled at him. “Hey, Peter! This is my coworker, Alice. She’s going to be your vet while you’re here, okay?”

The female — “Alice” — turned to Herman. “You know his name?”

Herman shrugged. “Y-Yeah. Why? Is that, uh, is that not usual?”

“No! Usually merfolk are, uh, a-holes,” she explained. He scowled as she looked back at him. “Hey, Peter. Nice to meet you, my name’s Alice. How are you feeling?” He spat water at her and looked away. “Hey!” She was rude for insulting his people with him right there in front of her.

“He’s just, he’s nervous. He’s not used to people,” Herman explained. “Shall we take a seat?” Alice grumbled at sat down in front of the door, next to Herman. “Peter?” Herman called. He looked up. “Can Alice a-ask you a few— some questions?”

He watched the female for a long moment before nodding.

“How you feeling? Robert said you didn’t want cream rubbed on you yesterday?” she asked. He shook his head, letting an upper fang show as a reminder that he wasn’t weak, even in this condition. “Can I unwrap and check your tail?” He hissed at her, ear spines and gills flaring. “Okay, okay, sorry. How you feeling? Are you still sore?” she tried. He hesitated and then nodded. “Okay, we can get you some painkillers.”

He cocked his head.

“They’re, uh, they’re medication you take with food, and they make the pain go away for a bit. Would you like to try some?” Herman elaborated.

“Better than spit?” he asked quietly.

Herman nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! They’re like spit, but you eat them, so they help your whole body feel better. Does that sound good?”

He nodded and trilled in response. That sounded great, actually. The constant ache of pain in his tail and his fins and his scales was really, really taking its toll on him. He hadn’t felt this lethargic in his life.

“Has Herman or Robert explained that you’re in this enclosure until your tail fin starts to properly heal?” Alice asked him. He nodded. “It’s very small so you don’t move around too much — are you getting bored?” He eyed her again as he nodded slowly. He steadied himself in case she tried to lunge for him. “Okay. Unfortunately, with the funding we get, there isn’t a ton we can do. However, Herman here had a suggestion. Herman?” she prompted, turning her head to look at him.

“How would you like to learn stuff while you’re here, Peter?” he offered. “We could get someone to help you improve your English. We can, we can also get you some, uh, exercise equipment, if you like?”

He frowned. That was certainly not the offer he’d been expecting. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought. He was stuck here for two fucking months — maybe more if things didn’t go well. There was soooo much to see and do and play with in the ocean, but here… He’d seen other merfolk, including members of his pod, get injured before, and none of them had ever had scales that turned grey and flaked off. Maybe that was the reason his tail was deteriorating? Boredom? Lack of movement or stimulation? He studied the two humans before him, who were both waiting for an answer. With a sigh, he relaxed his arms and nodded.

“Yeah?” Herman asked excitedly. “You wanna learn stuff? What do you wanna learn?”

He frowned and chewed his cheek some more as he thought. “Herman language.”

“You wanna learn better English?” the male clarified. He nodded again. English. What a strange word.

“A-And Peter teach Herman Mer.”

“Y-You wanna teach me Mer? Like you speak with your pod?”

He nodded and trilled in excitement when Herman agreed.

Herman checked on him multiple times a day, though normally only for the length of a conversation, giving him food, practising English, and cleaning his tank. He’d given Peter some weights and a “med ball” to keep active, but it was definitely not the same as swimming, especially as he couldn’t use his tail for anything. The weights were also light so as to not hurt him, meaning they were practically useless. He did enjoy, however, when they were able to have meals together. He got fed four times a day, whereas Herman only seemed to eat once. It was absolutely bizarre what he brought for lunch each day, too: his food always came in some sort of wrapper or box that he had to undo just to access it. One day, he’d come with his food in something shiny.

Peter gestured towards the shiny wrapper of Herman’s food. “Herman have mate?”

“Remember, when talking to someone you use the word ‘you’, yeah? Do you wanna try again?” Herman prompted.

English had so many confusing rules and exceptions. He huffed and tried again. “You-Herman have a mate?”

Herman smiled and continued unwrapping his meal. “No, I don’t have a mate. Do you?”

He frowned. “Who gave you-Herman shiny, then?”

“Oh! Oh, nobody. This is called aluminium foil. We use it to wrap our food so it doesn’t, uh, go everywhere. For humans, courting doesn’t involve shiny objects.”

He nodded once. Right. Humans had so many shiny objects that gifting them was next to meaningless. It was a shame, really. He thought many merfolk looked even prettier when adorned with sparkling items their mate had gifted them. “What give in human courting? Food? Rocks?”

Herman chuckled and bit into what Peter had come to learn was called a “sandwich”. “Uhh, it depends. For humans, you usually need to establish that both people are into it before the courting properly starts.”

“How?” he asked. He tore at one of the fish Herman had given him for lunch as he listened.

“Well, you, you uh talk to them. You might say something like ‘hey, I think you’re really attractive, would you like to go out some time?’ And if they say no, you move on and find someone else attractive.”

Hm. He ate slower. It probably did make things easier than just hoping the mer you were courting didn’t have any other admirers, was attracted to you, and was ready to start courting. “And then give food?”

Herman laughed and shrugged. “Well, it uh, it depends. Usually, gifting someone food might seem a bit weird, but some people do it. You kinda— it kinda depends on the person.”

“So Peter give Herman fish. Not courting for humans?” he clarified.

“D’you, d’you remember the words ‘I’ and ‘you’?” Herman reminded him gently.

He huffed. Right. “So I-Peter give you-Herman fish, and you-Herman don’t think I-Peter courting you?”

“Uhh, well, fo-for you, it’d be a bit different, ‘coz I know a bit about mermaid social rituals — s-so I’d know that you were, uh, courting me. But, yes, if you gave, uh, someone else a fish, they wouldn’t think y-you were courting them.”

He paused before slowly nodding in understanding. “Y-You-Herman give Robert fish, and Robert not think Herman courting?”

Herman nodded in reply and swallowed the bite he was eating. “Yeah, yeah exactly.”

“Robert give Herman— *you-*Herman shiny f-foil? And not courting?” he specified.

Herman nodded. “Yeah. If Robert gave me alfoil, that wouldn’t count as courting me.”

“But Robert say, ‘we go out, Herman’ and is courting?” he questioned. Herman nodded in confirmation, mouth full of sandwich. Okay. Okay, he could sort of see the logic in that. Instead of gifting, it was more… verbal? Humans did appear to have such an abundance of food and shiny things that gifting them seemed pointless. Plus, their language was so much more complicated than any dialect of Mer he’d heard. Maybe they danced or sang for each other instead? That was certainly something he hadn’t seen before from two humans.

“I’m just going to go grab my bag for your checkup, okay?” Peter nodded. Herman stood up and stretched, letting out a weird yelp as he did, and left to grab his bag. He scoffed down the rest of his fish as he waited.

Herman returned a while later. Peter huffed from where he waited in the water and turned away from the door. He’d been waiting for ages before he’d finally decided that the human wasn’t going to return anytime soon, and then Herman had returned with Alice.

“Peter! Sorry I took so long! Robert wanted to talk to me, and then Alice said she wants to see how you’re healing. You wanna come up so she can take a look?” Herman asked.

He turned to spit a small stream of water in Herman’s direction, not nearly powerful enough to actually hit him.

“Hey, you okay?” Herman asked, quieter. “Is something wrong?”

“I-Peter wait for ages,” he huffed.

“I know, I’m really sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long. I should have told you I was going to be a while when Robert came and got me.”

He turned himself around in the tank and scanned Herman up and down. The male seemed genuinely rueful, offering him a small smile as he sat right by the side of the tank. Alice was standing by the door. He relaxed a little. “You-Herman look at I-Peter wounds?”

“No, actually, Alice is going to today. She wants to check how you’re healing and when you can move into a bigger tank.”

He groaned. A human touching his tail? “You-Herman check, you-Alice watch?”

Alice sighed, Herman looking to her for confirmation. She flipped through the papers she was holding. “Yeah, okay. I can watch. I’ll need some pictures though so I can refer back to them for my notes.”

“Does that work for you, Peter?” Herman double checked.

“Yes,” he replied, pushing himself over to the ladder so he could haul himself out. Herman awkwardly manoeuvred himself closer, making sure he didn’t stand so he didn’t scare off Peter. Alice walked over and he hissed at her, gripping the ladder in case he had to make an escape.

“It’s okay,” Herman insisted gently, “she’s not going to hurt you.”

He snarled, baring his teeth as she came closer, and she stopped again with a loud sigh. “I’m just watching, Peter. I’m not gonna touch you, so calm down.”

“Alice stay next to door.”

She huffed. “And how am I supposed to do my job and see if you’re healing well enough to move to a bigger tank if I can’t fucking see your stitches?”

“Peter, you want to move to a-a big tank, yeah? You wanna move around again?” Herman asked him gently. He nodded, keeping his eyes on the female in case she went for him in a fit of rage. He let a fang slip just in case. “Well, we can’t tell if you’re ready to move into a bigger tank until Alice checks your wounds to make sure they’re healing well. She’s just going to sit and watch while you and I do all the work, yeah?”

He growled softly at her, his gills flaring. “Alice no touch Peter.”

“Yeah, of course. Do the— are the, uh, painkillers helping? Do you feel less sore?” Herman asked as he opened his medical bag.

He nodded. “Y-Yes. I-Peter feel better.”

Herman smiled. “That’s great to hear! D’you remember that they were Alice’s idea?”

He looked down sharply. Yes. He did remember. And they unfortunately were helping a lot with his pain. “…yes.”

“See? Alice has really good ideas, she knows what she’s doing. Can she please come sit down and check on your sores?” He growled in frustration and nodded. Herman smiled at him. “Great, thanks. Can I-I— may I unwrap your tail?” He nodded, gently manoeuvring it around so Herman could unwrap it more efficiently. He still stiffened and grumbled when Alice sat next to Herman at the end of his tail, but allowed her this close just this once.

Herman’s caring, tender care of his wounds didn’t take as long as it had the past few times. Most of the smaller cuts and bruises had completely healed, all that was left was the stitching in his tail from the harpoon and the gash in his side. Alice obeyed his request and didn’t touch him, instead directing Herman on what to photograph and how to move his tail so she could see better. It also turned out she was a light elemental, using her powers to light up various spots near his tail so she could see better when photographing. When it was finally done, Herman gave him a crab for being so well-behaved, and he snatched it before diving back into the water and gnawing on its tough shell to open. A combination of gnawing at it and slamming it into the concrete wall eventually cracked the shell open enough that he could prise it apart with his claws.

Once he was finished, he looked up to see Herman waving at him. He eagerly climbed the ladder and surfaced. “Yes?”

“Hey, Peter. I’ve got some good news and some bad news.” He frowned and lowered himself into the water a bit further. “So, I won’t be here for the next two days because it’s the weekend. I’ll be back on Monday though. In the meantime, Robert and Alice will take care of you, yeah?”

He spat water at the wall. “I-Peter not see you-Herman?”

“Not for two days, sorry, Peter. I’ll be back on Monday, though. The good news is that I finish early today because it’s Friday, so once I’ve finished work this afternoon, I can come hang out for an hour before I go home. How does that sound?”

He frowned and spat water at the wall harder, splashing Herman slightly in the process. “…okay.”

“Great. I need to get going now, my lunch break is over, but I’ll see you later this afternoon, o-okay?”

He nodded and submerged himself again. It would be a long “weekend”, whatever that was.

[leonwritesfanfic]

Leon's Guide to Writing Straight Characters

Disclaimer the author does NOT experience opposite-sex attraction and is not trying to speak for straight people! THIS IS NOT A DEFINITIVE CHECKLIST TO WRITING STRAIGHT CHARACTERS, and as such should be interpreted with caution!

If you’re anything like me, you enjoy writing as a means to explore other worlds and ways of being completely different from your own. If you’re also like me, you’ve successfully written about straight characters enough that fans of your work have asked you for tips on how to do so! Thus, I have compiled a list of tips I consider essential for writing heterosexual characters in authentic, meaningful ways without succumbing to stereotypes for a cheap laugh.

1. DO NOT use tokenism or overuse stereotypes

Now, this might seem obvious to some of my readers, but to those who are unfamiliar with the idea of tokenism, it’s thankfully pretty simple: tokenism means you only have one character in your story from a certain minority, and you include them for the sake of making your cast more diverse, not because you wanted a fully fleshed-out, complex representation of said minority. For example, the token straight character I’m sure a lot of us have come across in our time on the internet.

In a similar vein, stereotyping can be just as harmful to straight people, as it reduces them to cheesy tropes and doesn’t reflect the incredible nuance and diversity of the heterosexual experience. Some examples that come to mind are gender reveal parties, clapping when a movie is finished or a plane lands, and men who wear board shorts to the shops. Of course, stereotypes do exist for a reason: a lot of hetero-aligned people do enjoy these activities and consider them “straight culture”. Giving your heterosexual characters these traits can be a handy shortcut to quickly convey their minority sexuality to the audience, but keep in mind that the entirety of the heterosexual experience cannot be represented with such simplicity. To do your characters and audience justice, you will need to delve further into the heterosexual experience.

Another important, albeit uncomfortable exercise, is to sit with your own thoughts and examine your personal biases. This may not be a particularly fun or easy exercise, but it will ultimately make you a better writer and friend to straight-aligned people in the long run! Much like how LGBTQIA+ individuals can have happy, fulfilling marriages, raise children, start their own businesses, learn new skills, grow as people, and lead satisfying lives, heterosexually-orientated individuals do so as well!

Article continues after the ad ☺️

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2. Do your research

As much as I would love to be the world authority on writing hetero-oriented characters, it’s just not feasible — especially as someone who is not part of the community! Thus, it is important to 👏 do 👏 your 👏 research 👏 before attempting to write heterosexually-aligned characters. An easy way to do this is to follow straight creators! Some of the more progressive social media apps have specialised search functions to make searching for straight creators easier this pride month — follow, like, reblog, and share! Netflix and other streaming services should have similar functionalities for pride month, so make sure to bookmark a couple of interesting shows which feature straight-orientated characters as the main or key supporting cast.

It should go without saying, but supporting and engaging with straight-orientated creators should be a year-round thing, not just during Straight Pride Month! Still, during pride month, it is a good idea to take advantage of these heterosexual-specific specials while you can!

3. Labels

How a character refers to themself says a lot about who they are as a person, much like people in real life. For example, I’ve used various terms throughout this article to familiarise my readers with different ways your characters can refer to themselves and others.

Identity-First Language

This type of language centres the character’s heterosexual identity. Terms could include:

Straight person

Heterosexual (person)

Hetero(sexual)/straight aligned/oriented/orientated (person)

Heterosexually-aligned/oriented/orientated

For example: Oliver is heterosexually-aligned, and I support his identity!

Person-First Language

This type of language acknowledges that being heterosexual is just one aspect of a person’s identity, and instead centres the person themself. Terms could include:

(Person who) experiences heterosexuality/heterosexual attraction/opposite-sex attraction

Person who is straight/(a) heterosexual

Person who is heterosexually-aligned/oriented/orientated

For example: Min experiences opposite-sex attraction, and I am honoured that she was comfortable disclosing that to me!

IMPORTANT NOTE: framing heterosexuality as “a condition” or something someone “lives with” is offensive, as it makes this natural part of human diversity seem shameful or distressing to experience

This leads in nicely to my next point…

4. Representing the Heterosexual Experience

For LGBTQIA+ individuals, most of us don’t go around talking about how much gay sex we have. The same can be said for heterosexual characters. A good rule of thumb is to match how much the straight-orientated character discusses their sexuality with how much other LGBTQIA+ characters talk about their sexuality. Of course, experiencing a minority sexuality might mean they have to explain it to other characters or might discuss it more to show their pride, but reducing an entire character to how much heterosexual sex they have is as demeaning as it is shallow and misguided.

That is to say: being heterosexually-aligned is only one part of a character’s identity. Give them hobbies, relationships, and traits that are not at all related to their minority sexuality. Tell me about a woman who enjoys exclusively heterosexual sex and also rock climbing, poetry, and volunteering at her local animal shelter. Explore what it would be like to be a man who is only attracted to women and also plays hockey, knits, and runs his own small business. Give your male characters women who they love like family without any romantic or sexual element. Give your women characters men who they can talk to about anything and who they do not have any attraction towards.

The bottom line of writing any good hetero-oriented character is this: make your characters fleshed-out and deeper than just their heterosexuality.

I sincerely hope my guide to writing straight characters helped all the aspiring writers out there — just in time for pride month, too! Please like, reblog, and follow for more content, and as always, comment below the top tip you want to start including in your writing more!

[leonwritesfanfic]

Argyroneta Aquatica Chapter Eighteen

{in which they reuinte}

“Ughhh… fuck…” he groaned. His head throbbed. He felt sick.

“Herman! Language!”

“…huh?” he mumbled, opening his eyes to harsh lighting. He groaned. His pulse thrummed in his head as it lolled to the side. “Gwamma?”

“I’m right here, Hermy. You feeling okay?” she asked, laying a bony hand on his forehead.

He squinted at her and blinked a couple of times. “…hhhhhuh,” he breathed. The lights were so bright they hurt.

“You just rest, dear. I’ll go grab the doctor,” she replied.

“Waterboy!” Peter exclaimed, rushing in to give his boyfriend a super platonic and normal hug in front of everybody who was already in the sickroom with him. Herm was sitting up in the hospital bed, an IV line in his arm, looking bright and happy in the room’s dim lighting. He made sure not to squeeze too tightly or lean on him at all.

“Hey!” Herm greeted, carefully wrapping his arms around Peter and squeezing him back. Did the hug last longer than it should have given they were surrounded by people who didn’t know they were dating? Yes. Did Peter care? Given Herman had almost fucking died, no he did not.

He reluctantly pulled away and stood next to the bed. “Hey, Mrs Harrison,” he greeted automatically. He and Herm froze.

She squinted at him from her wheelchair. “…Peter? Is that you?” Shit. Uhh, fuck, what did—

“Grandma! W-We talk— he’s, he’s called ‘Spiderman’ here,” Herm stammered.

Blazer and Robert just laughed. “Don’t worry, kid, we won’t tell anyone,” Robert assured him.

“Uh, g-guess I don’t need this thing on,” he joked awkwardly before pulling his mask off to breathe. He looked back at Herman and smiled. “I’m, uh, I’m glad you’re okay.” God, I want to hold your hand so ba— fuck that, I want to hold you so bad.

“Me too,” Robert agreed, checking his phone, “you gave us a good scare, Herm. Now that we know you’re awake and okay, I need to get back to the desk, but I’ll let the rest of the team know they can come visit you if you like, yeah?”

Herm nodded. “Y-Yeah. Thanks.”

“And Webs, we need you back up in five, okay?” their dispatcher added.

Blonde Blazer scoffed as she followed him out. “He just saw his friend almost die, Robert. Take fifteen, Peter. On me.”

He had to hold back his laugh at being referred to as Herm’s “friend”. “Thanks heaps, Blazer,” he replied. With just the three of them left, the room quickly became awkward and stuffy. He looked back down at Herm again and gave him another big hug. “I’m. I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so fuc—” he managed to cut himself off in time “—so freakin’ worried!!”

Herm chuckled and nodded. “I-I’m, yeah, I’m glad too. Um, Robert said we— y-you and Visi caught them?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Uhh, I-I think seeing you fall down those stairs scared the absolute— the living daylights out of me! I think we destroyed some of the, um, the art there, but we got ‘em!”

Herm laughed and then clutched his ribs. “Ah,” he hissed.

“Oh shoot, you okay? How, how bad are your injuries?”

Herm shook his head. “N-Nothing bad— nothing’s broken. Just, just sore. Bruised m-my, um, my ribs and got a mild c-concussion.”

He grimaced. “Ooh, that’s gotta hurt. You get a few days off to rest up?”

Herm nodded. “Y-Yeah. Blonde Blazer g-gave— I-I get two weeks.”

His eyebrows shot up. “T-Two weeks?!” Holy shit!! Herm must have really hurt himself if he was given two fucking weeks off! His grimace worsened as Herm shrugged.

“Y-Yeah. It’s not coz— n-nothing’s seriously, uh, wrong, it’s nor— it’s just standard procedure.”

Relaxing a little into his shitty posture, he sighed. “Okay, okay. That’s good… um, d-d’you remember what happened? If you don’t mind me asking, that is?” The worst part was not actually seeing the hit, just hearing a loud thud followed by several more loud thuds and hearing Lightningstruck’s audacious laughter at Waterboy going down.

Herm blushed and shrugged. Thelma laughed from behind them. “Hermy’s always been a sensitive one, I’ll tell you what.”

“Wha’?” he asked dumbly.

“Umm… s-so, um, o-one thing I-I haven’t, um… I-I don’t like s-seeing myself, um, hurt. L-Like, I-I once had a r-really— a severe panic attack wh-when I bashed— my leg hit a-a pole coz I thought i-it was broken. It didn’t— it barely bruised.”

He nodded in understanding. “So you got injured at the museum, and being hurt made you freak out and slip up so Lightninghead could get the upper hand?” he guessed.

Herm shook his head and went even redder. “Umm. H-He punched me so hard I— t-two of my teeth f-fell out.”

His brow furrowed. “Holy! W-What?! Are you okay?”

Herm nodded, still not making eye contact as he fidgeted with the wet sheets in his lap. “Yeah. S-So m-my teeth fell out a-aft— wh-when Lightningstruck punched me. A-And there was a lot of-of blood.” Peter’s eyes widened as it dawned on him. “I-I, um, I got back up. A-And then I saw— I realised th-that he’d just, he’d knocked m-my teeth out and there was blood a-and I, um…”

“You fainted?” he realised.

Herm winced and nodded. “Ye-Yeah. Um. I was fine from the— weirdly, th-the punch didn’t hurt? Like, I think I was so revved up— my adrenaline was, like, was carrying me. An-And then I saw m-m-my own blood a-and teeth—” He was cut off by a violent shudder. “I don’t wanna, um, I don’t wanna think about it.”

Peter relaxed and let out a laugh of disbelief. He bent down and knelt next to the bed. “Here I was, t-terrified that Lightningface had, like, seriously hurt you. A-And that bitch wasn’t even strong enough to knock you out!” he marvelled. Thelma grumbled behind him and he quickly corrected himself. “That, that guy wasn’t strong enough. Sorry, ma’am.”

Herm wheezed and lurched forwards, clutching his side as he presumably laughed at Peter’s gracelessness. “…ow,” he hissed.

He gently rubbed his boyfriend’s back. “You okay?”

Herm nodded. He then lurched to the side and spewed a bunch of water onto the floor on the other side of the bed. “…shoot,” he mumbled. “So-Sorry! Can you, um, i-in the— there’s a, um, a janitor’s closet, like, two doors down? C-Can you please, uh, grab me some towels?”

“Of course! Stay put and I’ll be right back,” he assured, standing back up.

“I can’t, I’m not, uh, going anywhere,” Herm replied weakly.

Punch Up was chatting with Prism and Mal by the leaderboards and waved Peter over as he entered the bullpen. “Hey, lad! How’s Waterboy doin’ now?”

“Hey, boo!” Prism greeted as he walked over.

He nodded with a smile. “Hey. Yeah, Waterboy’s doing well! You guys can go visit if you like, he’s in sickroom one.”

“Mm, we’re trying to think of gifts for him,” Mal said.

“Miss Blazer suggested an UberEats or Audible gift card,” Prism added, not looking up from her phone.

His lip twitched and was grateful his mask hid his surprise. “Y-Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” He was pretty sure he managed to sound levelheaded and chill about the team’s concern for his injured boyfriend. It made him smile and lifted some of the weight that had settled on his chest and shoulders.

“D’you think he’d like whiskey?” Punch asked.

“Waterboy barely enjoys beer, I doubt he’d like something that strong,” Mal pointed out. “Would be funny to see him drunk, though.”

“Uhh, I-I don’t think he’s twenty-one yet,” he added.

They all laughed, Prism so much that she looked up from her scrolling to laugh at him directly. “Hoe, please! Does it look like any of us actually give a fuck?!”

He blushed and doubled down. “W-Well I doubt Blazer would appreciate it.”

Punch Up grumbled. “Hmm, yeah, yer right. Well, fock. What other things does he like, so?”

“Uh, well he likes superheroes, marine life, and cats,” he shared. “And watching movies. Though most cinemas aren’t exactly Waterboy-friendly… neither are restaurants.”

“Hmm, maybe Blazer has some old hero merch lying around? Or we could get him, like, an aquarium pass or something,” Mal suggested.

“Do they even sell those?” Prism asked absently, scrolling on her phone.

“Probably, right? Like for families an—” she began.

Prism gasped. “You bitch!!”

“What?” she asked, leaning over to see what Prism was looking at.

“Some hoe just commented on how tired I looked in my photoshoot last week!”

“Ooh, show me, show me!” Punch Up insisted.

“What?!” Flambae demanded, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “Tell that motherfucker I will burn them alive.”

Peter’s and Prism’s earpieces both beeped, letting them know they’d been assigned a call. Prism sighed dramatically and handed Flambae her phone. “Ugh, I can’t today, Bae. Can you unleash some of your homosexual rage on that hoe, please?” Peter stifled his laughter with a cough and straightened his mask.

“With pleasure,” Flambae agreed darkly, taking her phone.

“Let’s go, Webhead,” she announced, looking at her watch. “Hmm, looks like we got a bomb threat at the revival house downtown.”

hey! could U come over tonight?

>yea! >what time do u wantme their

oop! meant to ask if I could come to yours tonight? to say hi and drop off a gift? 👀

>ohh haha >ur so sweet! you dont have to dobthat for me!!

but i wanna its alright if u dont want visitors tonight i guess I;ll just have to hang out with my super amazing boyfriend some other time 🤷‍♂️

>asddskjaaskdh aww >nah id love to c u! >uhhh, u could come round like 8?

sweet! 👀 👉👈

>ur literally so cute >whats up ☺️

could I … … aksdhnadhusuaidhu could i stay the night? 👀 pretty please

>haha

again if its too much thats fine! i just wanna see you 👀

>yeah sure thing >👀

asudhausihdan yippeee!! also ur cuter

“Hey!” Herm rasped, opening the door to give Peter a big hug.

“Hey! How are you?” He hugged his boyfriend back, careful to not put pressure on his ribs. “How you feeling?”

Herm nodded and opened the door for him to enter. “Yeah, good, good. Sorry, please be quiet— j-just keep your voice down, grandma’s just gone to bed. I-I don’t know— sh-she might still have her, her hearing aids in.”

“Oh! Sorry,” he hissed, bending down to take off his shoes.

“That’s all— n-no worries. What’s? What do you have there— in your hand?”

“This is from, um, the team,” he explained, holding the large, manilla envelope up for Herm to grab, “and these are from May and I,” he added, standing up to hold out the bouquet of flowers. “Uh, I-I didn’t really know if you’re supposed to get a guy flowers, but she said it was fine, so… shit, you okay?!”

Herm nodded and rubbed one eye with the back of his hand. He sniffled. “Y-Yeah. Yes. I’m… thank you!” He practically leapt forwards to hug Peter tightly before pulling back just enough to kiss his head. “I-I’m kinda, um, surprised that the. I-I didn’t realise the team, um, cared about me?”

Yeah me too! “Wh-What?! Herm, of course— sorry—” he cut himself off to whisper as Herm gently put a finger to his own lips. “Of course the team cares! You’re one of us,” he insisted quietly.

In response, Herm tilted his head down and kissed him. He kissed back and pulled him in closer. “Th-Thank you,” Herm whispered. “Y-You’re— they’re, um, stunning.”

He fucking giggled. “You’re stunning too, Herm. Sh-Shall we get these in some water?”

“What did we end up getting you?” Peter asked, sitting besides his lovely boyfriend on his blue plastic sheets.

Herm scoffed teasingly. “Y-You don’t know?” A cat sidled up to his legs and he bent down to give them scritches on the head. “Hi, baby,” he cooed.

“Nah. Robert just said he and Blazer were organising a gift and gave us the bank details if we wanted to contribute. I-I did help with the card, though.”

Herm opened the large envelope and gave him a curious look as he felt the card. “Wh…” He pulled it out. His mouth fell open and he looked at Peter. “I-Is this? Did you, um, lam-laminate it?”

He grinned and nodded. “Yeah! I remember the card y-you, um, got me after I had that really bad panic attack a few months ago. I laminated it so you could hold it properly.”

“Wh-What?” Herm squeaked. He looked back at his lap, flipped the card the right way round, and burst out laughing. “‘Congrats on not dying’?! Did you— w-was this your idea?”

“Nah, that was Golem’s idea. I suggested the cat though. Robert drew that, if you can believe it,” he explained, referring to the large, black cat with green eyes on the centre of the card’s front. “Congrats on” was written in black curved text above it, followed by “not dying” below in larger letters. “It was meant to be one of your cats, but I couldn’t remember which ones had what marks.”

Herm’s mouth hung agape. “R-Robert drew that?!”

He nodded. “Yeah. Took him, like, five minutes, as well.” Herm was back to sniffling and wiping at his eyes. “…you okay?” he asked gently, wrapping an arm around his dripping boyfriend.

Herm leaned into the side hug, rested his cheek on Peter’s head, and nodded. “…y-yeah,” he whispered. “Just… yeah. I-I’m happy.”

A/N: Shout out to this random Irish dude on Reddit for his post on writing Irish dialogue

Also big thanks to the amazing @inkubanned on Tumblr for letting me use their idea of Robert being a good artist!! Find the original post here

[leonwritesfanfic]

Argyroneta Aquatica Chapter Seventeen

{in which Herman and Peter get challenged}

“Girl, I swear to fucking god, you need to fuck that man,” Prism drawled over the lip of her G&T. Herm choked on his beer and coughed so heavily it sprayed onto the table they were sharing. Of all possible nights of the week, all places he could possibly be right now, and all the company he could possibly choose from, Herman was sharing a table with Flambae and Prism in a freaking villain bar on a Thursday night.

“Gross,” Flambae muttered, his lip curling. Herm spluttered out noises about how they were just friends amid his sharp coughs. “You gonna clean that shit up?” Flambae asked, looking at him from his phone.

“…yeah,” he mumbled, standing up. He looked around for napkins, remembered what kind of establishment this was, and settled for tipping the table up at an angle to more or less power wash the spat beer off. He set it back down and sat with a sigh. At least his coughing had stopped. “W-We’re just— i-it’s friendly. Platonic. We’re. We’re friends,” he insisted hastily. Fuck. They hadn’t discussed telling the team yet, and he really didn’t want to drag Peter into the teasing he copped every day by being the team’s most pathetic member.

Prism laughed at him. “Be so fucking for real with me right now. You think nobody else sees the disgusting way you two look at each other?”

He swallowed heavily and took another sip of his gross drink. He didn’t like the taste at the best of times, but this one was weirdly thick and he hadn’t drunk it fast enough, leaving it warm. It was a bit of a chore to drink, but sipping it gave him time to think. Were he and Peter that obvious? Shite. He didn’t want to have a “let’s slow down” conversation not even a week into being together, but they might have to given that Prism and Flambae were onto them. Then again, they were the team’s nosiest, gossipiest members, and often shipped their teammates, so maybe he and Peter weren’t as obvious as they were insisting? Either way, checking that Peter was happy to keep the relationship between them for now seemed like a good thing to do. He didn’t want them to have to hide it, but he also didn’t want the team ganging up on his boyfriend for dating such a loser.

“Boyfriend” still gave him butterflies.

Flambae glanced up at him and snorted. “Wetfartboy is bluuushiiing,” he teased.

Shit. That, of course, only made his blush worse. “I’m-I’m not! It’s the— I-I have a, uh, low toler— a-alcohol threshold,” he managed, setting the bottle down. He wanted to look over and see where Peter was playing pool right now, but of course that would only make the accusations against them worse. He’d just have to walk over after this conversation and admire Peter’s precision up close. Aww, what a shame.

“Bitch, you’ve barely had half a fuckin’ beer,” Prism noted sourly.

“I’m— lightweight. I’m a lightweight,” he maintained. It wasn’t really a lie, but being a lightweight didn’t make him blush from a few sips of bad beer.

“Pfft, clearly,” Flambae scoffed. He leaned over to wrap his free hand behind Prism’s neck and showed her his phone. “Fuckin’ look at this week’s bottom of the week.”

“Ooh! Damn, Bae! He looks like he’d make a gorgeous backup dancer,” she commented.

Hm. That seemed like a good time to leave, didn’t it? It did kinda seem like Flambae was deliberately excluding him from looking at the phone, but he and Prism were wrapped up in their own conversation, so getting up and leaving wouldn’t be rude, right? He also really did not want to hear about all the incredible sex Flambae was having with LA’s hottest, buffest, oiliest men— okay. Yep. Good time to go. He stood up, grabbed his gross beer, and decided to see what was happening at the pool tables.

“Uh, h-hey!” he greeted as he (very casually) sidled up next to Peter, his boyfriend, who was lining up a shot against Sonar. “What’s, what’s up?”

“Hey,” Peter mumbled, not taking his eye off the cue.

“Cumslinger here is giving us a pool lesson,” Visi piped up, watching with her arms crossed.

He grimaced. Yes, Peter had warned him in advance about the degrading nickname, but hearing it actually being used was like a slap in the face. Why couldn’t they just call him “Slinger”? Why did they have to add “Cum” to the start of it? “Tha— h-hey, Visi? That’s, um, h-he’s not called—”

Peter hit the white ball with the cue, and they all paused to watch it hit one of the table’s bumpers and fly back into two other yellow balls, sinking one of them. “Ha!” he crowed. Sonar grumbled and shifted on his feet and Mal whacked him with her tail. Peter gently nudged Herm with his elbow. “Don’t worry ‘bout the name. I’d rather be called that than get doxxed at a villain bar.”

Oh. Oh, yeah, that made a lot of sense. Obviously, Peter would’ve thought it through in advance and weighed the pros and cons — he didn’t need white knighting. He nodded subtly. “O-Okay…” If you say so, he supposed. Peter explained the basics of pool physics to him, Visi, Mal, and Sonar, enduring the many snickers and dumb comments every time the word “balls” came up. Ultimately, though, Herm still enjoyed it. It was nice to have fun with their other teammates and not be the butt of every joke for once.

The game finished up with Peter on top and Sonar despairing over his Harvard graduate smarts, followed by watching a few of their drunker teammates do karaoke on stage. Both he and Peter declined to join in, happy to sit back together and watch as Visi and Punch-Up embarrassed themselves in front of the entire bar. At one point, he glanced over at Peter, who was cheering even as Visi completely missed a high note, and smiled to himself.

Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to fit in.

Eventually, the night came to a close with invites to Prism’s Halloween party the following Friday. “Now I know none of y’all sad bitches have any fuckin’ plans, so anyone who flakes on me is getting permanently blinded,” she threatened. “Also! The dress code is slutty. I wanna see some ass!”

“That’s right, bitches, no ass no pass,” Flambae agreed.

“N-No, um— pass?” he whispered to Peter, bending down slightly to hear the man’s reply.

Peter shrugged. “I assume he means we won’t be let in if we’re too clothed,” he explained quietly.

Herm nodded and stood back up straight. Darn. He didn’t have anything revealing to wear. Well, okay… that wasn’t entirely true. His mind drifted back to the outfit he’d worn for the ATL concert with Peter a few months prior. Fishnets. He would start with fishnets.

“Holy shit, Cumslinger, you made the news!” Visi squawked, getting up off the couch in the break room and pointing to the main TV on the wall of the bullpen.

“Bullshit,” Flambae scoffed, but he did look up from where he was picking his cuticles.

Peter sat up too, and the sight made his stomach drop. A photo of him from the SDN’s website was being displayed behind the news anchor. “Shit,” he hissed, leaping out of his chair to rush over and get a closer look. He frantically scanned the subtitles of the broadcast. Someone behind him turned it up.

“—disturbing for some viewers. Footage of so-called superhero and SDN employee Spiderman has been leaked of him apparently letting a youth robbing a pharmacy go free with over six hundred dollars worth of insulin in his backpack. The arachnid hero seemingly talks the burglar down from firing the gun and checks his bag. It clearly contains the insulin he had broken into a locked freezer for just minutes before the hero showed up,” the anchor explained.

His heart pounded. Shit. Shit! Invisigal appeared beside him, making him jump. “Ha! I’m glad my latest fuck-up isn’t being broadcast on th—”

“Shut up,” he hissed.

The camera cut to reveal a second anchor. “That’s right, Rachael,” the man agreed. “The pharmacy’s owners, Dr Bob Campbell and his wife, Anika Campbell-Murray, are begging for answers as to why the very person hired for their pharmacy’s protection would let go of a thief at the scene of the crime. Dr Campbell has, of course, threatened the SDN with legal action, while Anika would just like an explanation of why the arachnid-themed superhero let a burglar go.”

It cut to a short interview with Dr Bob Campbell, who confirmed everything the news anchor, Ken, had just said and added that he and his wife were suing the SDN. Peter’s blood ran cold as he stared in horror. His watch and earpiece beeped, letting him know he’d been assigned a call, but he ignored them. Visi cackled to his right and made some comment about Bob’s receding hairline.

Rachael, the first news anchor, nodded, turning from Ken to stare down the camera. “We have reached out to the Blonde Blazer, head of the local SDN branch here in Torrance, in hope that she rights the wrongs that the so-called hero Spiderman put the pharmacy through. Up next: a recent study has found links between autism and backpacks. But first, the weather.”

“Hey, Webhead!” Robert yelled at him from his desk. “Stop admiring yourself on TV and get out into the field! Flambae and Waterboy are gonna kill the kaiju attacking Santa Monica pier before you’ve left the building!”

His head snapped around and he nodded before taking off.

“I can’t believe we broke you and DeadZone outta prison just for Shroud to get some fucking decorations,” Stoner grumbled as he pried the door open.

“Quit your bitching and hurry the fuck up. SDN definitely knows we’re here by now,” Lightningstruck snapped, looking up and down the alley nervously.

“Oh really, what gave it away? The woman screaming like a banshee in the foyer, or the silent alarm we probably just tripped?” he bit back. His head and back slammed into the brick wall and he grunted in pain.

“I will not hesitate to blow your fuckin’ brains out right here right now and finish the job myself,” Lightning snarled, the red tubing in his head pulsing as his blasters charged up against Stoner’s chest.

“Woah woah woah! Hey, hey, cool it, man!” he yelled, writhing in an attempt to free himself from where he was pinned to the wall.

“Hey!!” came a yell from down the hall, and Lightning dropped him so he could blast the security guard rushing towards them.

Stoner managed to catch himself and glared at his partner. “Dude, what the fuck?!”

“Can it,” Lightnings barked. He turned and kicked open the door in front of them.

“Careful! Those are priceless impressionist pieces!” DeadZone exclaimed.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Lightningstruck deadpanned. He looked back at Stoner and scowled. “Keep fucken movin’.”

“Jesus, dude, what’s up your ass?” she snarked, pausing from where she was sizing up another painting.

“Maybe I don’t wanna fucken get sent back to prison over something as fucken stupid as getting some paintings for Shroud, ever fucken think about that, bitch?”

“Hey, hey, everyone let’s just calm down, okay?” Stoner suggested, trying his best to keep the tension in the room from snapping like a string. “How, how ‘bout we just grab a couple paintings and then leave, yeah? It’s not like the boss can keep track of how hard we try when Dead’s been in and blown all the cameras, okay?”

“How ‘bout you shut your fucken mouth and do your fucken job?” Lightning snarled.

“How about you take that massive fucking stick outta your ass and not make this job more insufferable than it already is?” Dead shouted. “Just because you’re sad that your tiny little shrimp—”

The doors down the other end of the room burst open and SDN’s very own water- and spider-themed heroes stepped in. “Please put the paintings back and nobody gets hurt,” the spider one said.

Stoner didn’t know their names, so he was just going to refer to them as Pool Boy and Spider Guy. He sized the heroes up as they stood in the doorway. Pool Boy’s concerned expression made his attempt at confidence almost cute, and the spider man was hard to read given his red, black and blue morph suit. Stoner sighed and hunched over. The room filled with the sounds of fabric ripping as his clothes shredded from the thick stone armour crusting over his skin. He did his best to not crush the painting he held as he transformed.

“I said—”

“Keep moving,” Lightning barked at him and DeadZone. “We all heard you, Spiderman, and we don’t really have time for you rookies to try to arrest us.”

Spiderman, that was his name! He still wasn’t sure about Pool Boy though. He shrugged and lifted the massive painting he and Lightning had previously been carrying. Hopefully Lightning would be fine taking out these two losers on his own. DeadZone shouted behind him, and he turned to see her flailing around and grappling with thin air. “What the—”

“Ugh! Invisibitch!” she grunted, clearly trying to prise open the traitor’s transparent grip around her neck as she almost toppled from the weight on top of her.

He dropped the painting and lumbered over to help, trying to get a good swing at Visi. She was thrown across the room, hitting the far wall and reappearing with a gasp. She took a quick puff of her inhaler and scrambled to her feet. “Hey, DeadZone! Long time no see,” she laughed awkwardly.

“You backstabbing, two-faced bitch!” DeadZone shrieked, throwing herself at Invisibitch.

Stoner was hurled backwards and into a display case, glass exploding everywhere as he collided.

“Fuck!!” Spiderman yelled.

Stoner leapt back up and and felt around wildly for what rope was attached to him. Spiderman shot a web at him and he dodged it, but a second one hit his lower leg and had him flying again in an instant. He crashed down the stairs and into a set of medieval display armour. His head throbbed and back ached from the fall. He gingerly picked himself back up and debated just running for the getaway car as he patted himself down for cracks in his stone armour. Lightning wouldn’t be quick to forgive him, but he also didn’t care what that electric basic bitch thought. Without his stupid “blasters”, he was just a normie with a shit haircut and red tubes sticking out of his half-bald head.

Someone shrieked upstairs.

Pool Boy came tumbling down the stairs towards him and he readied himself to punch the kid’s lights out.

No such fight came, because the hero didn’t move. Thank fuck. Stoner stepped over the lanky body and launched himself back upstairs into the fight. He took another swing at Invisibitch and missed, cursing as he crashed into a metal rubbish bin. Spiderman launched at him and his leg came up to kick him too slowly. The spider’s fist was the last thing he saw before it all went pleasantly numb.

A/N: Apologies this chapter took so long!! The AO3 curse got me really fucking bad, as did writer's block, but I'm happy to report that me and my family are okay and I am back on my bullshit :D

I wanted to include this chapter's plotline much later in the story, but then I realised that I have it planned out and trying to force myself to write filler is what killed my other fic on this site [AO3], so here you go! Peter and Herman will just have to speedrun their relationship ig

[leonwritesfanfic]

I've been playing so much Tomodachi Life Living the Dream that now when I read dispatch fanfics, I imagine the MIIS I'VE CREATED INSTEAD OF THE ACTUAL CHARACTERS

*sob*

[leonwritesfanfic]

Argyroneta Aquatica Chapter Sixteen

{in which Herm comforts Peter}

They once again sat on the roof of SDN Torrance overlooking the LA skyline and amber sunset, side by side, close enough that Peter’s small form pressed into Herm’s side. Taking a chance, he gently put a gangly arm around Peter’s narrow shoulders and drew him in a little closer. “You ok— wh-what’s, uh, wrong?” he tried quietly.

Peter sniffled and leaned into the awkward side-hug. He sighed. “I, um, I-I think I fucked up on Monday.”

Was there even a universe in which Peter could fuck up? Probably not. “Wh— how?”

Peter shrugged, looking down at where his fingers were flexing and fidgeting in his lap. “I…” Peter sighed again and looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. Herm wanted so badly to reach out and gently brush the tears away. “I, um, let a-a criminal go, for one.”

He paused for a beat and shrugged, using the motion to pull Peter even closer. The smaller guy hummed and smiled cutely up at him. He smiled back and slowly, tenderly brushed Peter’s pink cheek, smearing the tears more than wiping them away, but he hoped the thought behind the gesture counted. “W-Well, we all— e-everyone makes m-mistakes. Just, uh, just earlier today I— a-a guy managed t-to get away.”

Peter pulled away from the gloved hand on his cheek and looked back down at the cold, stained concrete beneath them. “Oh, n-no. I, uh, I let him go. Like, I-I said he could leave.”

He frowned. “…d-did you. Was there a-a reason?”

Peter nodded and shuffled to bring his knees up to his chin. He still rested in Herm’s side-hug, but he was no longer leaning on him as he recounted the pharmacy robbery, talking the kid down from shooting him, and how his heart “fucking shattered” at hearing that the kid was stealing insulin for his little brother. He then explained his meeting with Blonde Blazer and Robert earlier that day, and how she tactfully pointed out that he didn’t actually have proof that the kid had a diabetic young brother or that his bag contained solely insulin. The icing on the cake was that knowingly letting someone go had lost him so many points on the leaderboard that he was now in the bottom three, when previously he’d been around the middle.

They were quiet after Peter finished sharing. Herm’s head swam, and he wordlessly let go of Peter so he could empty the water buildup from his gloves as he thought. As far as he was concerned, Peter had been trying his best in the circumstances — he felt it was unfair that Blonde Blazer and Robert had reprimanded him for giving a kid the benefit of the doubt. They’d probably just been following protocol, or maybe Peter hadn’t explained his point of view as well as he did just now. It was probably just a misunderstanding. Either way, he knew Peter would have been trying his hardest in the moment.

Peter sniffled again and looked over at him, eyes rimmed with watery red as he shakily asked, “Y-You disappointed?”

Herm froze mid-pour. “Wh-What?! No! No, o-of course— wh-why would? Why would I?”

Peter picked at his shoelace. “I-I just thought it might, uh, y’know. Go against your, uh, moral compass or, um, s-something…”

Gloves abandoned, he quickly shifted back next to Peter and wrapped him in a proper hug. “Wh-What? No! Y-You did. You w-were doing your best. It’s not… o-our job needs us to make— t-to call the shots all the time. It’s… it’s hard.”

Peter leaned back into the hug and nodded. He sniffled loudly and brought a shaking hand up to grip Herm’s arm. “Fuck, y-yeah. It is,” he agreed tiredly. “I-I just.” Peter huffed. “What made it so much worse w-was seeing my younger self i-in there.”

“H-How, how so?” He had a pretty good idea of what Peter meant, but he wanted to make sure he actually understood. Peter’s uncle Ben dying had more or less forced him to find other ways to pay the bills in senior year, not unlike a teenager stealing insulin because of how expensive it was. He sighed lightly, seeing the parallels. He was very grateful that the one illness his grandma didn’t have was diabetes — insulin was incredibly expensive.

Peter sighed heavily in Herm’s loose, wet embrace and shrugged. “Y’know. P-Poor kid. His— w-well, my, uh, my assessment was that his f-family couldn’t pay for medication h-his little brother fucking needed to live. I-I probably would have done the same i-if May developed diabetes… It’s just…” He sighed again. “The system i-is so shit, Herm.”

“Yeah, i-it, it is,” he agreed earnestly, shifting to prop himself up with his right arm while his left stayed wrapped around Peter. “Wh-When all your incom— e-every cent goes towards b-bills a-and loans and— o-or even just medication. It… sucks. A-And if you can’t eve— i-if that costs too much, then…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence, they both knew what he meant.

“Yeah, you, you fucking resort to crime c-coz you need to get by! The worst p-part, though, is I-I didn’t even check! I just… I just assumed he was, he was telling the truth,” Peter continued loudly.

He pulled Peter that little bit closer and awkwardly craned his neck to rest his cheek against soft, fluffy brown hair. “I-It’s okay,” he attempted to soothe, “you— P-Peter, you see the best in— best o-of people. You saw a desp-des-desperate kid a-and gave him the— a-a chance. That’s… you’re amazing.” He wanted so desperately to explain that this entire conversation was a perfect example of one of the many things that drew him to Peter: his bravery and kindness were unparalleled. It took a lot of guts to step up and admit your mistakes, and here they were, snuggled up, Herm comforting Peter as he tearily, messily admitted he probably made the wrong call and let someone who was actively robbing a pharmacy go.

Peter chuckled halfheartedly and leaned further into the embrace. “Thanks…” He sighed heavily. “Ugh. I-I just wish… I-I dunno. I still feel like an idiot f-for letting the kid go. Even…” Another big sigh. “Even though I-I stand by my decision a-at the time.”

Herm squeezed him and slowly brought a clammy hand up to play with Peter’s hair. “You tried— did your, your best.”

Peter nodded softly. “…Y-You’re a great listener, Herm. Sorry f-for, uh, trauma dumping on you just then.”

He looked down at Peter with a frown. “Y-You’re… you didn’t?” His heart pounded. No, please don’t pull away now.

“W— but. It was p-pretty heavy. ‘M sorry,” Peter mumbled.

“I-I— didn’t I ask i-if you wanted to— i-if sharing would help?”

Peter squirmed just slightly and a small smile crept onto his face. “Y-Yeah, b-but… it was kinda a lot.”

He nodded and rested his cheek against Peter’s soft brown hair. “Yeah, it, it was…” he agreed. “I-I didn’t feel like you’d, um, over-shared, though.” His heart pounded. He so badly wanted to express how happy he was that Peter trusted him to share the heavier, more painful sides of life. It was the deeper, more intimate and raw parts of a relationship that Herm craved like a drug. Regrettably, he’d never had the type of relationship where he felt he could share those details and moments safely with another person — well, outside of his parents, but he’d still never experienced truly opening up to someone that wasn’t them. The fact that Peter was here, now, trusting him with this complex of moment had him on cloud nine. Obviously, he couldn’t express any of this given they weren’t even officially dating yet, but marking that for himself felt special. “Th-Thank you for opening— f-for trusting me, Peter,” he managed thickly.

Instead of replying, Peter just snuggled closer and threaded their hands together as they watched the sun set.

With tears well and truly dried, Peter slipped his hand into Herm’s as they exited the maintenance stairwell, knowing the rest of the team had long since left. Herm, ever the gentleman, had offered to walk him to his bus station even though it was just over the road. He felt lighter as they walked through the building together. The guilt weighing heavily on his chest had been replaced by a new, more familiar sensation: the intimate vice of anxiety twisted and writhed around his stomach. His heart pounded. He was grateful Herm was wearing gloves so the man didn’t have to hold his sweaty hand directly. This should be easy. It should be!! He literally got paid to fight crime and aid in disaster and incident cleanup — he’d almost been shot a dozen times on the clock by now. Not just that, but not twenty minutes prior, he’d been spilling his guts out about fucking up at work, and Herm took the gentle, loving time to listen and reassure him. He’d been curled up, sobbing and freaking out over the fact that he’d likely let a kid rob a pharmacy for less than noble purposes, and Herm had insisted that he’d done his best given the circumstances. You didn’t stay and reassure someone you didn’t care about that tenderly. You didn’t shyly kiss them at an aquarium or keep glancing at them at work or text them for ages before bed every night if you weren’t serious about them. You just didn’t.

“Umm, b-by the way, I-I don’t— I’m really sorry, but I don’t, um, I don’t think I’m gonna be free— available t-tomorrow after, after work,” Herm stammered as they exited into the cool evening breeze. “Ma— m-my grandma had a, um, a last-minute appointment— doctor’s visit offer— available. But! I’d, I’d still love to, uh, catch up this weekend? I could, I could cook— m-make you dinner to, uh, m-make up? Make up for it?”

What a gentleman. Well, it looked like it was now or never then. He stopped, pulling Herm to a stop almost comically as well. “Umm… I-I actually had ulterior motives for asking you out on a, um, picnic.”

Herm cocked his head slightly. “Oh. O-Okay… um, how?”

He sighed and blew a stray hair from his face. His heart pounded. His legs felt like they were about to give out at any second. He breathed, feeling the cold evening wind on his face as he explained, “I asked you out o-on the picnic date because I wanted to ask you out. For real. I-I love spending time with you, I love falling asleep texting you and waking up to your messages. You’re— fuck, y-you’re such a great guy, Herm, a-and if you also want, I-I’d love to make this, uh, official.”

Herm blinked. He was frozen in place for a second, leaving Peter’s heart to ache in the cavity of his chest. “Like… like you wanna b-be boyfriends?”

He swallowed heavily and nodded. “Y-Yeah. I-I really wanted to have a cute picnic to ask—”

“Yes! Oh my— y-yes, Peter!! I’d. I’d love to be boyfriends!”

He released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in a raspy sort of gasp. “R-Really?!” He deflated a little in relief.

“Yes!!” Herm grabbed him, twirling them around a few times in excitement. He squeaked and hugged Herm back, taking a moment to stare down at his beautiful boyfriend in wonder as the world flew by. How the hell did he get so lucky?! Herm set him back down and leaned down for a kiss.

He reciprocated eagerly for a few moments before pulling back with a massive grin. “I’ll, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Herm nodded, looking dazed. “Y-Yeah. My, my. Yeah. Um, g-get home safe?” he offered awkwardly.

Peter chuckled and leaned in for one more quick kiss. “You too, handsome.” He cackled and ran to catch the bus, incredibly satisfied with the searing blush he’d left on Herm’s— on his boyfriend’s cheeks.

[leonwritesfanfic]

Instead of studying for my upcoming exams, I made lil doodles in the style I like to imagine Flambae leaves for Robert!

[leonwritesfanfic]

THIS IS THE FIRST FANART I’VE EVER (FINISHED AND) BEEN HAPPY ENOUGH WITH TO POST RAHHHHHH

It’s my faves (Spiderman and Waterboy, as per my current fanifc hehe) kissing :3

(Ignore that Peter looks weirdly like Shane Hollander…)

[leonwritesfanfic]

Ok I fixed his face slightly 😅

[leonwritesfanfic]

THIS IS THE FIRST FANART I’VE EVER (FINISHED AND) BEEN HAPPY ENOUGH WITH TO POST RAHHHHHH

It’s my faves (Spiderman and Waterboy, as per my current fanifc hehe) kissing :3

(Ignore that Peter looks weirdly like Shane Hollander…)