#i am sorry that i am not experiencing childlike wonder when i definitely should

[linka-r9-vysocina]

all the tumblr posts about how hope is a necessity, how you should be in awe of the world, how beautiful it is to experience childlike wonder, how loving the world and having hope is a radical act, and a part of me understands the intention of them, but the other part is someone who has depression and is pretty much unable to do do any of this, and this part can't help but see those posts as similar to motivational quotes, which you sincerely share and feel when you are already motivated but which don't actually help when you lack motivation

and boy, the guilt that they bring.

[squidproquoclarice]

For Nonny, @proflucypreston, and a few others who expressed interest--that Garcy “morning after” scene. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They called them “White Nights”--Beliye Nochi--in Russia.  Lucy could imagine that the bustle and urbanity and foreign splendor of St. Petersburg itself had been a giddy overload to Sophie, a rural princess of Anhalt-Zerbst (though “princesses” in pre-Imperial Germany were a dime a dozen as every obscure principality had one).  She’d passed from girl to formidable, incredible woman there, and yet, Lucy had to wonder if there had been some childlike wonder left in Catherine the Great.  The White Nights, where even at 3 AM the day only dimmed to a thin pale glow like light seen through a gossamer veil, must have been like magic, like a time where anything could happen.

Maybe they’d learned to rough it here in the Alaskan wilderness rather than enjoying the urbane comforts of St. Petersburg, but they’d all made the most of the extended light throughout the spring and summer, especially after the bleak winter darkness.  

Last night certainly was no exception. She wasn’t sure exactly when they’d slept, but felt like it had been somewhere in that false twilight. Shrugging on her robe, she glanced over at the bed, and had to grin at the thought that Catherine the Great had adored tall Slavic men too.  If they ever went to late 18th century St. Petersburg, she’d have to make sure Catherine didn’t take an interest in making Garcia her latest lover.  Not that she’d have to be concerned that he would reciprocate the interest.

Even tired as she was, she expected a giddiness to be flowing and roiling within her.  She’d waited for this through months of growing anticipation, longing, and general raging sexual frustration.  She’d usually felt that after the first time, joy at once again being chosen, the headiness of passion burst into full bloom, and excitedly wondering where it all would go.

The manic glee wasn’t there, but it wasn’t disappointment or a lack of feeling.  Something about all of this was quieter, a steady journey rather than a wild ride.  But we definitely had that last night, she thought, holding back an awkward giggle.  Maybe it was because she didn’t have to hope so furiously this time, and she knew where it went.  She crossed back over to the bed, looking where Garcia lay still half-curled around where she’d just slipped out from under the covers.  He looked peaceful for once, the lines of tension eased out of his expression.  She itched to reach out and smooth that unruly hair tousled both by sleep and by her hands, to once again touch him.  Maybe even wake him up, because as much as anything, she loved how they could just talk for hours.  

But other needs called at the moment too.  Padding barefoot to the door, the wooden floor warm beneath her feet in the summer morning, she quietly opened it and slipped through, though the hinge creaked in a way that made her wince.  Thought perhaps she heard a soft murmur behind her.  Bathroom stop accomplished, she went to the kitchen and grabbed an aluminum water bottle from the rack and filled it.  No need to get precious and take a separate one for him given what they’d been up to last night. Too early for coffee yet--5 AM--but water would be good.  Through the window she saw Jiya and Mason heading for the shed, obviously driven to go work on the Lifeboat.  She winced, hoping she and Garcia hadn’t been too loud last night.  The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Jiya, especially given they were likely a couple of months yet from getting the Lifeboat upgrade done given the repairs after the Great Chicago Fire mission that kept them limping along two steps behind Rittenhouse through most of the winter. She’d been that person in the bunker, forced to huddle up in bed to contain that aching hollow of loss and loneliness while overhearing and sort of envying and resenting other people’s enthusiastic sex lives.  (He’d mentioned something about it in San Antonio--had Garcia been doing the same?)  At least she’d given Rufus and Jiya a little more time together by moving out onto the couch.

Water bottle in hand, she headed back to bed.  Opening the door and admitting that yes, that hinge needed some WD-40 like every other damn thing in this cabin, she found him awake and sitting up beneath the covers, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.  At the sound of the hinge, he looked up, and the expression on his face as he looked at her was a mixture of wonder and relief.  Something twisted painfully in her to see it, because she recognized it all too well.  “Did you really think I wasn’t coming back?”

“I figured I didn’t give you much reason to stay.”  Garcia Flynn, master of time but not necessarily of timing, trying to brush her off with a glib joke.  Though she heard the bleak reality behind the attempted self-deprecating sass, and knew he wasn’t talking about sexual performance.  No complaints on that end, anyway.   She gave him her warmest fake ‘70s stewardess smile--perfected when they’d tried to catch D.B. Cooper.  Should have figured he was a Rittenhouse sleeper, and that’s why the man and cash had utterly vanished.  “Nothing to apologize for,” she chirped, sitting down on the bed beside him.  “You were a gentle and responsive lover.”

It had surprised her to discover how much she loved to hear him laugh.  Not the sarcastic bark or a snarky chuckle, but actual laughter, genuine and warm.  Hand over his face, leaning forward and shoulders shaking with it.  “You’ve been waiting to use that, haven’t you?”  

Of course she’d kept that one in her back pocket, ever since she’d moved sleeping with Garcia Flynn from the realm of unrealistic sex dream or momentary fantasy Lucy Preston sometimes has into an actual possibility. She smiled at him, handing over the water bottle.  “Never let it be said I’m not patient.”

He looked at her, and that soft expression came over his features.  “You are.”  

From the moment of humor to cut through the potential awkwardness, she launched right into that disarming honesty they had, though the segue no longer seemed strange.  “Did you really think I wasn’t coming back?”

Taking a few sips of water, he put the bottle on the nightstand.  “For a moment, maybe, yes.”  His eyes met hers, level and intense.  “That’s me.  No reflection on you.”

“Something else,” she guessed, from the way his eyes dropped again, and not in that bashful way he had.  Plus his body was still half-turned away from her.  “Tell me,” she pleaded.  She couldn’t help fix it if he wouldn’t tell her.

He hesitated, glancing away towards the window, and it said plenty that he trusted her enough to give in.  Though the word--name--was so soft when he did say it that she barely heard him.  “Lorena.”  He cleared his throat, and his voice was stronger now, but his accent thickened in the way it did when he was emotional.  “Again, that’s mine, not yours, but…”

She cut him off, unable to help herself.  “Were you thinking of her last night?”  It came across harsher than she intended, but the momentary panic of inferiority sprung up and she couldn’t help herself.  Her mother and all her criticisms, and being good enough for all of Wyatt’s attention whenever Jessica was either dead or chose Rittenhouse, and when Jess was in the picture, she was only enough for him to expect her to wait around for him and not pick anyone else.  Little “Never Good Enough” Lucy Preston.  Now she couldn’t look at him, embarrassed by what a jealous shrew she sounded like.  She looked at the door instead, almost wishing she’d never gotten up and never left this bed, because the spell had been broken and now here was the messy reality.  “That’s--that’s mine.  Not yours.”  

“Last night, no.  This morning, yes.”  She glanced back over her shoulder at him.  He ran a hand quickly and nervously through his hair, words awkward and gruff and rushed.  “Oprosti, Lucy, sorry, žao mi je, didn’t mean you to--fuck!  I’m sorry.  I’m not…I haven’t…I’m not good.  At this.”  He waved a hand vaguely indicating nothing in particular.  “With someone new.”  Flurried and broken sentences, and he sounded lost, like a child afraid of having disappointed her too much for her to keep him.

He’d told her back in that bunker that he’d had two lovers in his life, both for years.  The first was Danilbek, his brother-in-arms in Chechnya and beyond.  The second was Lorena.  The third, now, was her.  No, when he was a man who loved his lovers fiercely enough that he’d been willing to destroy himself and anything in his way to bring one of them back, and hadn’t touched anyone in nearly five years since Lorena’s death, she doubted very much that he was quote unquote “good at this”.  She wasn’t exactly carving too many notches on bedposts herself, late bloomer and dedicated academic that she’d been, and awkward dork that she still was, but it was something of a novelty to be the more experienced one.  Though she didn’t have experience in this.  She’d had her heart broken a few times--by Mandy especially--had kicked Liam to the curb in scorned-girlfriend rage, and all of that, but she’d never had to say goodbye to a lover she’d had for years, who’d died.  Her breakups hurt, but mostly they hurt her feelings and her self-worth.  They hadn’t cut her right through her soul.

She breathed in deeply herself, trying to find her own center in this.  For her, she’d been relieved last night to finally move beyond the ghost of all of her and Wyatt’s failed futures.  It was more complicated for Garcia. But it was her name on his lips, not Lorena’s.  He hadn’t closed his eyes, hadn’t had that vague distant look of being four thousand miles and dozen years away mentally.  It had been Lucy Preston he’d kissed, touched, pressed back into that mattress.  She’d had all of him, still had all of him.  She didn’t need to be jealous of momentary thoughts of a dead woman as he carefully closed one more door to his old life.  He’d made love with Lucy and in doing so, given up another of the few pieces of himself left that belonged to Lorena. If anything, the feeling filling her now was a sort of humbled awe that she’d somehow be enough to move forward with, that he’d trust her with those parts of himself now.  She scooted closer to him, reached out and slipped an arm around him, relieved when the tension in him started to ease and he leaned into her embrace, his arm going around her in turn. “It’s OK.  I get it.  You needed a moment to let go of her.”

“Yes.”  Now his head turned back towards her, eyes and expression calmer and eyes full of grateful relief that he hadn’t needed to find the words.  Yeah, they’d be all right.  She could be mature enough to not resent that he’d had a bittersweet moment after spending the night with her, and make that next step in mourning all about her.  Not everything had to be rainbows and unicorns.  And it wasn’t like he was taking potshots at her for any of her past lovers, Wyatt included.  He’d never once flung that one in her face, and God knew Wyatt had given him plenty of reason with how petty and dickish his insecurities could make him.  At least they’d finally gotten to a place where Wyatt could say, OK, I don’t get it, but if he makes you happy, I’m happy for you.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t think about that.  That I took something fro--”  

He interrupted, which he rarely did, but there was a blaze of emotion in his eyes, furious and indignant, as he reached up and took her free hand in his.  “You took nothing.  I gave Lorena up.  And I did it willingly.”  He turned her hand over in his, brought them to his lips, and kissed her palm.  He looked at her over their joined hands, that wild light still in his eyes as if daring her to contradict him as he said, “You’re enough, you know.  More than enough.  As you always have been and always will be.”    

It wasn’t only the warm exhalation of his breath against her hand that was still barely an inch from his face, and the intensity of his gaze, that sent a slow shiver down her spine all the way down to where the tension and heat started to coil again low in her belly.  It was on the tip of her tongue to make her own glib comment, something like, You really know how to make a girl feel special, Garcia Flynn, because she could barely breathe, it was all too much and she would collapse under the weight of it.  But she couldn’t cheapen what he’d said by being flippant about it. And finally the weight held, and the safe harbor of what he’d said filled her.  

Well, they’d always been good without words too.  She let go his hand, and hitched up to her knees, turned to face him.  She reached out, put her hands on his shoulders--careful to not put too much pressure on the still-sensitive knot of scar tissue on the right side--and pushed him back against the pillows.  

But then she did need a few more words.  Because he’d been a child insecure in his parents’ love, and then he’d become someone, something, so bitterly ashamed and feeling like he deserved nothing.  They’d both walked in the darkness for so long.  Their battered and bruised souls needed this, their own White Night; to step into a light that might wax and wane, but would never entirely go out.  “Don’t ever say you don’t deserve me, Garcia.  Because you’re enough too.  More than enough.  As you always have been and always will be.”  Echoing his words somehow felt like the solemnity of a vow between them, and it felt right.

She’d found she loved his smile too, that slow, sweet, unguarded one that lit up his face and crinkled the corners of his eyes.  Holding his eyes with hers, untying the sash of her robe and shrugging it from her shoulders, she leaned down to kiss him.  There were a few hours yet before breakfast, after all.         

[acashgirl]

Untitled Marvel Project: Part 5

THIS IS WHAT WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR! Hopefully it’s not utter disappointment, haha. Please enjoy, or don’t, and catch you on the flippity-flop!

(First) (Previous) (Next) (Index)

   You slept for hours that night and when you woke your pillow was still damp. The disorientation you felt was most likely from the dehydration you were experiencing which caused dizziness and kept you lying down. Pondering began, what was to happen now? Bruce seemed pretty opposed to you being here and Tony had even said you had put them in danger. Yet he also seemed interested in keeping you around but… Vision, he was under attack because of you and in danger because of it. But where could you go? This was… you don’t… what now?

“Friday, who is here currently?” “I am unsure if I can share that information.” “Well are Tony Stark or Bruce Banner in the building?” “No not at the moment. May I ask why miss?” Sighing to yourself you slowly got up and moved towards the door. “Miss what are you doing?” “I’d like to get some water, I’m feeling dizzy and I think I should probably get some before I need an IV. I was hoping to go to the kitchen.” “I do not believe that to be the best idea.” “Friday I may actually die from dehydration.” You had made your way to the elevator and were pressed against the door. “I suppose. Please stay calm.” You rolled your eyes at the thought that even the AI was concerned about the safety of everyone else. The door slid open and you stumbled in, the drop in your stomach made you feel nauseous. They opened to the familiar hallway in which you last left the Captain and headed towards the lounge. Eventually making it to the large room you got to the faucet and cranked it on drinking directly from the tap. It was so satisfying and automatically you felt better. You thought you had heard someone head up the stairs but you were much too consumed with rehydration. “Hey Friday is Mr.Stark- Uhm hi?” You had never heard this voice before, a higher pitched male voice but not childlike. He was definitely more of an adult. Feeling embarrassed over your animosity you sheepishly turned to face the curly haired boy who had waved to you over a week ago. “Hey, uh, who are you? I mean you’re the girl from awhile ago but I never uh- I never got your name. You know Mr.Stark he uh- he never did tell me-” On the spot you blurted out “I’m Y/N” “Y/N, oh uh- that’s a great name origin from latin or uh… M-my names Peter, Peter P-Parker.” You smiled to yourself, it was easy to tell he was becoming embarrassed. “D-do you need a glass? They’re um- they’re over here.” He placed his backpack that was slung onto his shoulder on the ground and made his way over to you. Looking over at you he reached up by your head to open a cabinet revealing glasses. He grabbed one and filled it with water glancing over at you quite often causing him to almost overfill the glass. “Peter!”  He snapped from his near trance and turned off the faucet, then outstretched the cup towards you to which you gently grabbed. “Thank you.” “Sorry about the uh-the-” “Thank you.” He smiled shyly and you could see the blush run to his face. “So Peter, you’re looking for Tony?” You made your way across the island and sat on the familiar stool. “Yeah I wanted to talk to Mr.Stark-” “Tony?” You raised an eyebrow. “Right Tony..,” The word seemed foreign to him,”Just tryna get in some combat training or uh- something.” He nodded and bit his lip. “Why are you so nervous?” “What I’m not, I’m not nervous-” “You’re starting to blush.” You took a sip from the glass. “What no I’m not, it must be the lights or… something.” Holding eye contact for a second you broke off and shrugged, “Yeah you’re right.” He let out a deep sigh, almost choking on air. You offered the water which he awkwardly declined. “So combat training?” “Yeah just tryna brush up my skills for the bad guys you know?” He lightly laughed. “Bad guys huh? Schoolyard bullies gettin’ pretty bad?” “Psh, I have them on lockdown. If they knew what I could do they’d never mess with me.” “If they knew? Sounds like someone has some secrets.” “Secrets, me? No-no I don’t have any secrets?” “I felt a question mark.” “I mean me being here already reveals my biggest secret.” “Which is?” He leaned in a bit and whispered, “I’m an Avenger.” You smirked, “Then why do you need Tony for combat training?” Stumbling over his words a bit he worked out an answer, “Well I mean t-this is technically h-his property, so uh, it’d be r-rude of me to just waltz i-in like I own the p-place.” You let out a laugh, “By the way, Tony isn’t here right now.” “Oh, well then I should probably get going-” “Huh?” “What?” Looking at you with wide eyes. “I mean..,” you sighed, “might as well try some honesty, you’re the first person to treat me normal, like any other person. I was kind of enjoying it.” “How am I supposed to treat you?” Finally you broke contact and looked into the glass, “Never mind, it’s nothing.” “Have they been mean to you or sumthin?” You glanced back up to see his face staring concerningly into yours. “No no, Tonys been very accommodating.” “Well then why aren’t they treating you normally?” You couldn’t face him, you didn’t want to tell him the truth. Granted that’s how the current situation had came about. Dammit. “Maybe you should go Peter.” Not facing him. “W-why?” This hurt. “I…I just want you to okay?” Your voice raised. “Look I’m sorry if I said something-” “Please.”   You couldn’t see his face but you felt the change, the whole atmosphere had dropped 10 degrees and you were freezing. Trust no one, even one with a good heart. The footsteps echoed around and as he swept up his bag he glanced at you, causing you to almost break. This guy was concerned and caring, even Tony hadn’t felt like this to you. He was different and felt so pure! All of this made your decision clear; you would never tell him and could never be close, you had to protect him from yourself. He left without another word leaving you to feel more anxiety about everything. Tears began swelling, you were so emotionally weak why must you always cry. Breathing in deeply they retreated back and you exhaled from your mouth and took a swig of water. “Have you eaten anything?” A familiar accented voice said. You look towards a hallway you hadn’t been down to see Wanda in a black camisole and military green pants. “Oh um,” clearing your throat, “no not yet.” “I could make some eggs if you make toast.” She smiled. “Yeah, that sounds great.” She walked over to the fridge and grabbed a carton and proceeded to retrieve a frying pan. “The bread is in that cabinet, any kind will do.” She motioned toward one near the ground. You crouched down and settled on a multigrain as opposed to the 6 other kinds you have never heard of. “So if you don’t remember, how do you know how things work?” You fiddled with the toaster, “Instinct I suppose. An action will just feel right or something I say won’t feel weird or maybe it’ll just blurt out.” She laughed, “At least you have that, don’t have to start all over.” “If that ever happens… no.” “Ah shit I forgot to turn in the stove top.” “I got it-” “It’s fine.” With a wave of her dainty fingers the knob flipped over. “Well that seems handy.” As you stared at the burner. “It has its perks.” She pushed past you, pan in hand, and placed it over the element, “So what about you? Your powers?” “They’re uh, they’re something.” “Well they must be handy as well no?” “No benefits I see so far.” You pulled a smile and turned on the toaster. “What can you do?” “That’s not… it’s not important.” “I remember when I first began playing with mine, so fascinating and magical, no wonder they call me a witch.” “Didn’t it ever scare you?” She smiled down at the eggs, “Of course, but there’s no use in being scared of yourself. I learned that awhile ago with an incident… Well that’s in the past. But now I know my limits and, to an extent, what I can do. I’ll probably never understand myself but I just keep trying.” The pop in the toaster caused you to jolt and turn back to it. “How do you like your eggs?” “Any way is fine.” You looked over your shoulder. “Okay than they’re done.” She moved the pan off the heat and held it over the island. A cabinet opened behind her and two plates hovered over to the counter to which she slid two eggs onto each place. “Toast please.”   You quickly grabbed the toast and nearly burned your fingers on the crisp crumbs. She grabbed a plate and motioned for you to follow her towards the large glass table. The two of you sat on opposing sides and Wanda released a sigh. “I am very forgetful today.” She waved her fingers and you heard a drawer open behind you. Two sets of silverware rushed over and landed gracefully on the table. “Yup definitely handy.” Nodding to yourself in self agreement. As you both ate away at the plates you heard some footsteps come up the stairs. “Wanda, uh you, what are you two bonding over? Telekinesis? Mind control? World domination?” “Hello Tony, does the thought of that worry you?” “I’ve faced worse.” Wanda smirked at you, maybe she was hoping you’d chime in, but you couldn’t face Tony as it felt wrong. “Uhm Peter was here.” You murmured. “Oh was he? Surprised he didn’t call… whelp he did. Who gave him my number again?” “You did Tony.” Wanda replied. “Right, why did I do that?” The fridge opened and then quickly shut. You felt like you wanted to say something else but nothing came out. Footsteps trailed close and you peered over to the edge of the table to see Tony bite into an apple. “So Wanda, did our guest tell you about her amazing powers.” He looked at you and smiled. “She didn’t seem all that comfortable talking about it so I didn’t press.” “Well you should,” he wagged his finger at you with the same hand holding the apple, “it’s a nifty party trick.” He walked away looking pleased with himself. You glared at his back but it was no use, you did want to show Wanda. She poked at what was left of her eggs, “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.” You sighed, “I do. I want to not be afraid of them but I just have so many thoughts in my head.” “Like what?” “It’s… it’s too powerful, and then you add in my lack of memories and I could be a ticking time bomb! Wasn’t there someone like that? It feels familiar-” “One of Steve’ friends. His name was Bucky and he was in a similar ship to that.” “Bucky?” “He had some…issues.” “Had? What happened to him?” “That’s not important-” “Please tell me?” She let out a sigh, “He was nervous of what he’d do.” You leaned back in the chair, “Of course he was,” biting your lip. “But you’re not him, you don’t know-” “I don’t know myself Wanda.” Her face appeared worried as she looked into you while you looked into the ground. “I want… I want to show you.” She straightened in her chair and relaxed her face ready for anything. You placed your unused knife between the two of you and sighed. The two of you connected for a moment before you concentrated in on the metal. The discomfort began to appear and you brought it up your spine with the knife following. Past it you could see Wanda’ unsurprised face and you quickly blew out the pain. The blade exploded while keeping its shape as it self orbited and through the particles her wide eyes were scanning each inch of the expansion. You had noticed the discomfort was much less intense and slowly you closed the space, the knife coming back together as a puzzle. Slowly it descended back onto the table and lightly clicked onto the glass which cued you to look into Wanda. She inhaled and let out a sigh. “Well thats nifty.” You smirked at the comment and looked into your plate, “Pretty nifty.” She nodded and smiled at you, “You’ll be okay, I promise.” You copied her facial expression and nodded, “I’m uh- I’m going to head back to my room. Thank you for breakfast, I really appreciate it.” Widening the smile. “You’re welcome, and you can talk to me whenever. I understand.” “Okay.” You pushed out of the chair and traveled back to your room as silently as possible trying to not think of anything. You entered and exited the elevator and walked into your room dropping onto your bed. Well shit.   Some days had past with you just ducking in and out of your room for the bathroom or the kitchen; maybe if you ignored everyone nothing could be triggered. It was seemingly working but it was also very disheartening. No one had checked on you at all, not even Friday had asked questions. This time you knew most were home as you had caught glimpses of them as you’d scurry back to your room and yet nothing came out of it. They probably knew you needed space from the overwhelming situation which you should’ve appreciated, right? Sure. But eventually this became tiresome and the feeling of abandonment came back. You wanted to talk to them, you wanted to be friends, you wanted to do something. But the danger… what about that? How could they trust you while you’re like this? You lied to Peter about your name just to seem more normal but yet wouldn’t tell him about the one thing you did know; your power. So you decided to venture out and stop being a hermit.   The kitchen was the heart of the building and that’s where you’d be. You traveled down the familiar trail and saw the large window open yourself to the outside world. Gosh it had been forever since you felt real air. There was a door that led outside which drew you in and you turned the knob open. The air was slightly chilled and smelled fresh from the trees. You breathed in so deeply to seemingly flush out the air that now felt so stuffy in your lungs and smiled to yourself. This is where you wanted to be, how you wanted to feel; relaxed, no worries, happy. There was a bench somewhat down the expansive porch and you set your sight on it, quickly making your way down to it. You sat down and continued to stare into the trees blocking out all the other thoughts that tried to shove their way in. The atmosphere was quiet with just the wind quietly whispering through the buildings edges so it was easy to hear the door open down from you. Snapping your head in that direction you saw the familiar Peter in a flannel hesitantly making his way towards you. You stopped staring and began looking at the trees again. “H-hey Y/N.” “Hi Peter.” Still not looking at him. “Look I’m sorry if I had upset you, I-I really hadn’t meant to. I just-” “It’s fine,” you smiled down into your lap, “I was just… it’s just something I don’t want to talk about.” “I get it, everyone needs secrets right?” He let out an awkward laugh. You laughed yourself, “You can sit if you’d like.” “T-thanks.” Feeling his presence reside next to you. “So,” finally looking over at him, “What are you doing here today?” “Same as last, trying to get in some combat training.” As he nodded his head. “Why are you so adamant on that?” “I just want to prove myself y’know? I don’t want to be seen as this kid forever amongst superheroes.” “But you are a superhero.” “Huh?” He looked at you with wide eyes. “Well you are aren’t you? That’s what Tony had said-” “Mr.Stark said I was a superhero!?” “Uhm, yeah? Why is that so surprising?” You chuckled. “It’s just… Wow. You know I respect his opinion so much so hearing that he said that is uhm-it’s pretty cool.” He looked off into the area. “How do you feel about yourself?” Copying his position. “Myself?” “The opinion you should value the most is your own. Other opinions will change, constantly, but yours shouldn’t be so transforming. You are who you want to be and only you can change yourself. Yes I understand that Tony is a big guy but if you believe in what you are that is who you are.” He was staring at you, you felt it, so you returned the look. “What?” you said, curiously. “That’s really nice to hear.” “Didn’t you already know that?” “I think part of me did, but y’know you just depend on others opinions so much that you change yourself. I want to be seen as a hero to people because that’s how I feel. I want to do good for everyone.” “You don’t need to be a hero to do good.” “I know,” he looked back out but leaned toward you, “but it definitely helps.” You laughed, “Yeah I bet it does.”   Both of you looked out and sat in silence, his presence made you feel happy which in turn scared you; he was such a positive force and it radiated off him. Not to mention he was actually kind of attractive, yes Tony and Bruce and even the Captain all held their own rankings in your head but he was different. He made you feel different and was too relatable. The other men were dominant in your eyes, they were superiors, but Peter wasn’t that way. He wasn’t on your level, you definitely felt floors below him, but he wasn’t like them. “So what are you doing out here?” You felt his eyes on your cheek. “I haven’t been outside for while, it’s a big place y’know. I just wanted some fresh air.” You looked over at him which caused him to begin blushing. “Yeah-yeah of course.” “Why are you blushing?” You laughed. “What! I’m not-I’m not blushing-whaaat?” This caused it to happen more. “Oh my gosh it’s okay! Calm down!” You were genuinely laughing now and grasped his shoulder. “Well don’t touch me that’ll make it worse!” He was smiling and trying to shake your hand off. “What do you mean?” You replaced it every time it’d shrug off. “Stop it!” He swung his leg over now straddling the bench and tried grabbing at your wrist. You copied his motion and began trying to grab at his which led to an on and off poking match where either you were trying to grab him or vice versa. It felt great to laugh and smile and act like a normal person as opposed to the lurking thing in the shadows you had felt like. Eventually your grasped one of his wrists but he also caught your other one. “Looks like we're at a draw.” You laughed. “I mean I’m not one to give up so-” “Well neither am I!” “Guess we're gonna have to live like this forever.” He beamed a smile. “That doesn’t seem so bad.” “You’re the one blushing now.” “I am very aware of it!” With the hand holding onto you he tried poking your abdomen. “Well don’t touch me that’ll make it worse!”   He wholeheartedly laughed and you guys began rough housing again while keeping grip on each other. You felt so much joy that you couldn’t stop smiling and lost focus giving him the upper hand and he caught your other wrist. “Well it looks like I win!” You rolled your eyes and relaxed your body, “Damn I was looking forward to the forever part.” The blood ran to his face again, “Y-yeah me t-too.” You smiled and he slowly relaxed his grip while placing your hands onto your thighs, “Stay.” “They are not dogs Peter.” “I-I know that.” He smiled, embarrassed. He looked down into the space between you and him while you looked into his glowing face. He must’ve felt it because he returned your gaze and it made you smile. “Uhm kiddos don’t mean to break up day care but daddy’s here to pick up his little man.” You looked past Peter to see a suited Tony stroll over and place his hand onto his shoulder. This caused Peter to stiffen up just a bit and glance in that direction. “Hey M-Mr.Stark.” “Hello Peter, what are you two up to?” “Emotional bonding.” You replied. Tony looked through his yellow tinted sunglasses at you happily surprised, maybe he had missed your quick responses but it was too soon to tell. Peter on the other hand was wide eyed and beginning to blush again which yet again caused you to smile. “Well doesn’t that sound fun. Look so I’ve got some time on my hands and I just thought of a group activity we could do as a family.” Tony smiling maniacally towards you. “What’s that?” Peter glanced back over his shoulder not seeing your face drop at the thought of what could happen. “Well Petey you’ve been so adamant on some combat training that I thought maybe our little friend… Y/N, would like to learn something too.” Shit. You caught Peters turning head just in time to place a smile back on your face as he enthusiastically looked at you, “Do you want to come?” The internal struggle was very real. “Of course she does,” Tony stared at you, “She wants to be an Avenger right?”

[crowleymalone]

Deathly Silence part 2. Newt X reader

Part One https://newtdisneywho.tumblr.com/post/156801807573/deathly-silence-newt-x-reader

Y/n’s eyes widened as she tried to take everything in and Newt chuckled to himself as he removed his coat and jacket. “I needed a safe place to house them all that I could keep with me. It’s not always convenient, carrying a suitcase, but it works for us for now.” He rolled up his sleeves and placed Pickett on his shoulder. “Right. Dinner time.” Newt strode to the door and held it open, waiting for her to follow. When she finally stepped out of the cabin he watched her reaction. He loved watching people see his world for the first time; not that he’d had many people down there. Her eyes shone and the blue in them seemed even brighter, almost ethereal. If she had a voice he was sure she’d have lost it in a gasp of wonder. She looked like a kid seeing snow for the first time and it was only now he really looked at her.

Despite her look  she had to be in her 20’s, not a teenager as he’d first assumed. Her long brown hair was completely at odds with her age. Most girls he’d met these days had short wavy hair, keeping up with the latest fashion. Her dress was a little on the small side and very worn which added to the childlike appearance; he’d have to do something about that he realised. Y/n stood on the wooden step beside Newt in complete awe. Bathed in the warm glow of a sun, her eyes roamed across the various habitats and it took her breath away. For once she was glad she couldn’t speak because there was no way she’d be able to make a coherent sentence. Her mind whirled as she followed Newt. “This is Pickett’s family,” he told her, encouraging Pickett to rejoin his tree. Picking up a couple of buckets he headed to the Nundu. “There were 20 different species at last count. From Billywigs to these Nundu. Nifflers to Graphorns. I study magical creatures and write books about them, and occasionally I take them in to protect them. Many here are endangered because wizard kind doesn’t understand them, others I’ve found on my travels in the wrong places. Trafficked for various reasons.” He paused at an empty dessert. “This was Frank. He was a Thunderbird,” he told her fondly. She saw sadness flicker across his face as he gazed into the enclosure, lost in his thoughts. She started to reach out to him but snapped her hand back. “He’s free and happy now in Arizona,” he continued. “That’s where I was traveling back from when I met you. I went to check on him.” He sighed, gathering himself before moving off. “This way. These are pigmy puffskiens. They should all look like little balls of fluff but this little chap…” He gently reached in and scooped up a tiny, purple mouse like creature, holding it out for her to see. “See how his fur is short and moth eaten?” Y/n nodded. “Their hair is very useful for spells and potions. His fur has been shaved too often and now it’s struggling to grow back.” He reached into his pocket with one hand and withdrew a small knitted square. “Would you like to hold him? Keep him warm for a while?” The smile he was rewarded with was one of the brightest he’d ever seen. Her eyes sparkled, her gaze never leaving the tiny creature in his hand as he wrapped it in its tiny blanket and gently place him in her hands. Instinctively Y/n drew the creature close to her chest. He watched her silently coo over the creature, letting it snuggle close to her heart. There was no way she was dangerous or evil. He was beginning to doubt she was even a witch, which could cause a problem but if that was the case then what happened in that village to warrant her being hanged? Y/n looked up and caught him puzzling over her. She could almost see the questions flowing through his mind, she wished she had answers for him but she didn’t. She couldn’t explain anything, even if she had a voice. “Sorry, terribly rude of me.” He moved in the the next habitat, Y/n at his side. “Have you…… Have you met many other wizards or witches?” he asked hesitantly. She shrugged because she didn’t know. She still wasn’t convinced he was real, but as she had nowhere better to be and had definitely experienced stranger and more unpleasant things, she was going along with it. She’d had a chance to study him a bit as he tended to his creatures. He’d given them all names and the affection he had for them shone so brightly it was endearing. His green eyes lit up anew with each enclosure they reached and his smile grew wider each time someone came over to be petted rather than just fed. She silently giggled as he called himself mummy. Yes, Newt Scamander had to be fictional, surely there was no one on this earth as gentle as him. XxXxX “I’m supposed to stop in New York to visit some friends,” Newt told her as they stepped from the train. “I promised I would when I had a free moment. They’re lovely. Tina and Queenie Goldstein, although Tina can be a bit prickly when you first meet her. That might have just been me though, I annoy people quite easily so it’s entirely probable that it was just me.” He gave her a lopsided half smile.  As they walked through Grand Central station, Y/n felt very out of place. She watched as women passed,  looking down their noses at her. They all looked so sleek and glamorous. “Don’t worry about them,” Newt murmured in her ear. “They’re all pretending to be something they’re not anyway.” She looked at him quizzically. “Takes the hours to put all that paint on their faces and smooth their hair.” He smirked. Stepping out into the street, noise of the city was immense and Felix had never heard anything like it. Newt noticed her discomfort and placed a hand on her back guiding her along beside him. Feeling her shudder he looked down at her and realises how cold she is. “Oh Merlin, I’m sorry.” He stopped and whipped off his coat, wrapping it around her shoulders. She protested. “No, I insist. I forgot how cold it gets here and you’ll be soaked through….. Would you prefer the quick way?”

Y/n looked at him for a moment, feeling the rain beginning to trickle down her back and soak into her boots made her shiver more. She knew what he meant, she knew the feeling it would leave her with but in truth she was tired, slowly freezing and a little overwhelmed. She’d never seen so many people. With a sigh she gave a hesitant nod.

“Last time I promise. It does feel easier though, the more you do it. I’ll have to teach you.” Wrapping am arm around her shoulders he guides her into an alley before apparating. This time didn’t feel as bad, she was a little dizzy, like she’d been spun on the spot too long but he’d been right. It seems it does get easier the more you do it. “He we are.” He raised a fist to knock on the door, supporting Y/n with the other when the door flew open. “Mr Scamander!” Queenie beamed. “Oh honeys, come on in and get dry, you look half frozen!” “Hello Queenie,” Newt gave her a small smile. “I hope this isn’t a bad time?” “Not at all sugar. It’s never a bad time to see you.” She looked at Y/n. Queenie must have been one of the most beautiful people she’d ever seen, Y/n thought, feeling even more inadequate. “Oh honey, most people think that about me but you’re beautiful too, honest. Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill. Teenie!” she called. “Company! Come with me.” She took Y/n’s hand and dragged her towards her bedroom. “Let’s find you something that’s dry and fits better. Oh don’t worry about Mr Scamander, he’ll sort himself out.” Newt smiled to himself as he placed his case on the floor. He was sure bringing Y/n here would be a good idea. If anyone could help understand what happened and gain her trust it was Queenie. “Who’s that?” a familiar voice asked as he removed his jacket. “Hello to you too, Auora Goldstein,” he smirked. “Hello Newt. You look….wet,” Tina smiled. “It’s raining. Luckily it’s the straight down kind,” he told her, gesturing to his head and shoulders. “Of course, here.” She handed him a towel. “So who have you brought with you? Please tell me she’s not a no-maj.” “Her name is Y/n. I sort of stumbled across her and she needed help.” He rubbed his hair dry. “What kind of help?” “Well Dougal I suppose found her first, I was following him. Sh…she was about to be hanged.” “What for?!” “Being evil apparently.” “And what does she say about it?” “Nothing.” “Nothing?” “Literally. She can’t speak,” he told her. “So what’s going to happen to her? What are you going to do?” “Help her,” he shrugged. “And then what? She’s not a creature Newt.  You can’t just save her and then release her into the wild alone!” Tina hissed. “No she’s not and I have no intention of leaving her anywhere,“ he retorted. “Ta-dah!” Queenie sung as she re-emerged from her bedroom,  Y/n in tow. Newt smiled and silently thanked the witch. She’d given Y/n a purple dress and tidied her up. “See hun. I told you you were a cutie. Just needed a guiding hand,” she grinned. “This is fun!” “Then what are you going to do with her? If she’s a no-Maj….  you know what happens,” Tina growled. His gaze shuttered slightly as he watched Queenie had sat her at the table and was painting her nails while she chatted. “Honey, you’re one of us. No doubt.  You’re a witch, you just never got trained or nothing. Those things… they was just you protecting yourself…. oh. Those guys you threw…… they were gona….. you poor thing.” Queenie looked round at Newt and Tina, her eyes glistening with sadness. “She needs help. There’s something. ….” she looked back at y/n. “Think it loud honey…… There’s no way you could have stopped it”, she hushed “That’s cruciatus! “ Newt was suddenly beside Queenie. “W…what was?” “These people came, she was only a kid. These people came and killed her family. They used cruciatus to do it. Oh… those screams.” A tear rolled down her cheek, mirroring Y/n. “They turned it on her” she breathed. “but they were interrupted. Oh honey no wonder you were so confused by us all. You were so young, too young to have that happen and survive. Maybe that’s why you can’t talk. Did you used to be able to?” Y/n nodded. Newt’s mind was cast back to the subway, remembering the pain of Grindlwald’s attack and wondering how a child could have survived. How did he survive?   “Because you’re strong, “ Queenie told him before biting her lip. “Sorry, just that thought was very loud. Why didn’t you tell us?” “N…no reason to,” he told her. “Tell us what? “ Tina asked “Newt was tortured in the subway,” Queenie stated. “What?! When?!” “B..before you got there. I was fine,” Newt stumbled, trying not to think of the marks that has been left behind. “He got scars from it.” Queenie said. “Queenie. Can you not please?” He almost begged. “Sorry.” “I can’t believe you never told me!” Tina screeched “We were a bit busy,” he said calmly. Y/n watched a flush creep up his neck. Mr Scamander didn’t like being the centre of attention, it made him very uncomfortable, she decided. He was a strange man “You must’ve been in so much pain! “ Newt cleared his throat. “I was fine.” “Liar,” Queen muttered before turning back to Y/n. “I think we need to start at the beginning. See if we can make sense of your memories, honey.”