#i meant to write this out like two days ago but i got Super Invested out of nowhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ijustwant2write · 4 years

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Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @dailymarvelposts)

Tags: @bloodorangemoonlight @amirahiddleston

Requested by @husherstan : ‘could you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)’

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)

Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“For the last time, watch where you’re going Speedy Gonzales!” I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.

His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.“Maybe try keeping up next time.”

I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We weren’t here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate.

Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadn’t put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.

“Enough!” Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.“Really (Y/N)? You can relax now.”

“I don’t trust him.” I replied.

She sighed.“Come on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.”

“Why? We debriefed three days ago.”

“Something to do with it being on the news.” she shrugged, walking away.

Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didn’t look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?

I wasn’t happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steve’s stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.

“Sorry to call you guys in on such short notice.” Steve started.“But I feel that we have to discuss something that’s starting to effect the team.”

He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.

“Fastest man alive,” Pietro repeated what the reporter said,“it has a nice ring to it.”

“I wouldn’t put that in your Tinder bio.” I quipped, causing a few chuckles.

Steve looked at me.“And this is why we’re here today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.“What?”

“You and Pietro are always at each other’s throats. It’s...well frankly, it’s exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.”

“He always starts it-”

Pietro held up a finger.“Hold on, you do too-”

“You’re just proving his point guys.” Natasha spoke over us.

“As I was saying,” Steve brought the attention back to him,“the media has also caught onto this. There’s multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, you’re both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because you’re so invested in being better than the other!”

Steve was really mad, and from everyone else’s faces, they thought the same thing.

“So until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.”

“What?!” we both exclaimed.

“And you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.”

“Why are we both being punished?” I demanded to know.

“Oh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!” Pietro snapped.

“Mrs Incredible is super stretchy, it’s the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!”

“See? You’re further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.” Steve raised his voice.“You’re both dismissed.”

“Well, what are the rest of you doing?” Pietro dared to ask.

“We are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.”

I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being ‘the fastest man alive’, but I was going to try. I didn’t need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasn’t going to get that.

“Leave me alone.” I warned Pietro as he followed me.

“I can’t believe this! They’ve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And to think, they’re going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, I’m a crucial part-”

“Pietro!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him.

His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes.

I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn’t understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didn’t even follow me.

I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didn’t bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.

“H-hey.” I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway.

Looking over my shoulder, I didn’t reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.

“Can you stop?” I blurted out.“Please?”

“Are you annoyed by everything I do?” he asked.

“Not...everything. I just...doesn’t matter, it’s not like you care anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m not falling for this Pietro.”

“Why are you saying my name?”

“What?”

“You never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.”

“And why does that matter?”

“It just feels, it feels serious.”

“I mean, we’ve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, it’s serious.”

“We’ve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).”

“We could be if we don’t get our act together.”

“It won’t go that far-”

“But it could! I can’t believe how calm you are about the whole thing.” I stood, distancing myself from him.“I’ve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he can’t put others before himself!”

I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietro’s face, it was already too late.

“I...I’m sorry (Y/N).” he never broke eye contact.“And before you say anything, I mean it.”

“Pietro, I-”

“I can see how much this job means to you.”

“It’s my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.”

“No, don’t be humble.” he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.“It’s almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m usually very good with the ladies.” he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasn’t time to joke.“But not around you apparently. It’s probably because you’re extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.”

“Pietro, I...um...”

“I was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all I can do is run really fast.”

“But, you’ve been on much more missions than I have. Doesn’t that say something?” I hung my head.

“Are you crazy? You’re not on those missions because they don’t need you.”

My head whipped up to see his smile drop.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too important.”

“I never thought I would say this, but Pietro, you’re an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didn’t even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.”

“It seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

Pietro held his hand out.“Truce?”

I smiled up at him as I shook it.“Truce.”

A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.“Let’s not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of ‘I told you so’.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“And another thing.”

I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasn’t as firm.“Yes?”

“Can we start calling each other by our actual names?”

“I mean, I assumed we would anyway.”

“Oh, good. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just like the way it sounds when you say my name.”

2K notes · View notes

tfwlawyers · 3 years

Note

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

#bluefaewren #replies #parent trap au #attempting to write tag

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

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Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

#murder tw #vampire #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #reader fic #reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Text

So I got an anon ask a long time ago that, from sketchy memory, said something like: Who do you think had the better/worse home life growing up, Graves or TF? And I’m super sorry because it’s gotten lost somewhere on this blue hellsite and I can’t find it again anywhere I’ve looked, but I thought I’d try to write out a post as a response anyway! I’m sorry it’s so late, it took me a while to know how to answer aaand then I had to rifle through my drafts fifteen times to see if I could find it. Again, oops and sorry lol. (In general, if you’ve sent me an ask and I haven��t answered… please know that’s on my little ping pong ball of a brain bouncing erratically around in here, and absolutely not on you.) Also I’m going to mention some stuff around physical and emotional child abuse and trauma in this – nothing graphic or in depth, but just in case anyone needs the heads-up!

Okay, so my personal headcanon/what I’ve built for my fics* is that they’re both only children of single mothers. Graves has no idea who his dad is and Mama Graves possibly has only the haziest approximate idea too haha (none of the candidates would be promising long-term prospects in any case), but in Bilgewater logic he basically grew up with the idea that in having one living parent with any kind of investment in his survival (and occasionally even happiness, an embarrassment of riches here) he might as well have hit the jackpot. TF’s dad died when TF was very little and he doesn’t remember him, and that loss is partially why his mother wasn’t able to do a very good job at the parenting thing. (She probably would have done better with a dependable partner and less depression weighing her down, but there’s some underlying emotional immaturity there too that was the real problem.) Between the two of them he probably did have the safer environment around him growing up, though; child rearing among his people was a good deal more communal and tight-knit than in the gutters of Rat Town, he was raised along with a bunch of cousins/other kids. (He was seen by most of the adults as kind of a weird annoyingly precocious kid – there is a certain kind of adult who’ll get very uncomfortable around an uncannily observant and inquisitive child – and there were Family Politics at play there as well that meant he had a subtle sense of being on the outside already there.)

Graves’ mom was physically and verbally abusive (and drank too much periodically, mostly when he got a bit older) but also had some genuine care for his wellbeing and safety, especially physically, while TF grew up with a largely emotionally unavailable and neglectful mom who collapsed into helplessness and rejection whenever he needed things from her, and then was completely abandoned by her and everyone else in the family in the end. He did experience some much better and more loving connection with his (paternal) grandfather, but his grandfather also struggled with an ever worsening serious health condition that was slowly growing terminal as TF turned eleven or so – by the time he got exiled at thirteen his grandpa was barely awake for hours at a time some days and couldn’t really do anything to help him :(

And now let me try to show my work a bit around what parts of their lore I’ve extrapolated/built this from and elaborate on the long-term effects on their ways of dealing with relationships!

So to Graves being the recipient of indifference feels much worse than anger or conflict in relationships, because his primary attachment relationship taught him that interest, even in the form of anger, was a sign that he mattered to his mother; her anger (often born of fear and boy does Bilgewater offer a lot of things to fear) and insistence on being involved in his life (so he wouldn’t y’know end up being eaten by a warf rat or something while being a dumbass kid lol) were proof that she loved him and that he had some sort of importance in the dangerous violent world he was born into.

He takes TF running away from him as a sign of indifference and rejection/abandonment, which is why it just keeps escalating the rage and hurt in him during the whole chase scene in Burning Tides; to him it reads as more and more proof that TF doesn’t care about him and never really did, that he’s blowing off all the pain Graves has been through the last ten years and that he’s desperate to convey to someone (because I think that’s also part of why he feels he needs TF to listen to him before he actually does anything violent to him; he needs someone to hear and witness how much it hurts, even if that’s not the vocabulary he knows how to use. And he needs TF to listen both because he thinks he’s the one to blame but also because he’s the person he thinks would understand or that it would matter to – aside from his mother he’s the only other person he has actually had such a close relationship with. Some parts of him still know TF as ‘love, safety, home’ even while other parts are on the war path with lethal intent, and the raging parts carrying the abandonment pain go ‘well, then I’ll fucking make him feel this as much as I do one way or the other’ (sinister intent). Even that is still a bid for connection on some level.)

I really think part of Graves’ way of feeling and showing love is grounded in mutuality that way. Even in that twisted form, what he wants from TF is mutual connection. (Which is why TF disappearing into his Cool Magic Gambler Persona TM bothers him so much, because it leaves him ‘alone’ and without that back and forth flow of call and response of connection between them (look at their moment in the crate in the animated short for an example of what I mean – the way their bodies and gazes do an effortless sort of a back and forth sway of expression: TF leans in with a conspiratorial air and stays there as Graves takes in his meaning, Graves leans in eagerly as he gets it and TF smugly settles back against him, and you can see how much they BOTH enjoy it. TF could just have used the card immediately, but his first thought is to share their imminent triumph with Graves and make a moment of it, have a connection. I don’t know how clearly I’ve managed to express it with that, I just go on Vibes and that’s why I write fiction lol. See also the immediate easy back and forth they fall into at the end of Burning Tides, where so much can be left unspoken because they know each other that well, and how it makes Graves GRIN when only like fifteen minutes earlier he notes it’s been a long, long time since he laughed. Which then gets the paranoia briefly kicking in for a moment because that’s Dangerous Territory to his trauma brain, but I really do think that their safe established connection is part of how Graves has honestly been getting back on his feet with surprising speed and ease considering Everything.)

There’s an ability to fully commit to an idea of us without having the I become lost there that I think must have started very early. As lacking and harmful as she was in other ways Mama Graves did provide that sense of unflinching ‘me and you against the world you little shit’ psychological security.

(Graves is also very quick to hear criticism where it isn’t even intended because oh boy Mama Graves always had something to complain about, TF has had to do a lot of baffled ‘…Malcolm, that is NOT what I said where the fuck did that come from’ unpacking with him over the years whenever that kicks in for him)

Meanwhile TF had to learn to fashion affection from indifference growing up: he basically learned from his mom that the best thing he could do for her was to need nothing from her, to make her life as easy as possible however he could and intuiting the things that would accomplish that without troubling her, and if he did it right she would give him some superficial attention and affection, and that’s what love is. Writing it out this is… very very sad. She would also sometimes have unpredictable anger episodes where she’d snap at him instead (often rooted in repressed shame because something in her recognized this is not how it’s supposed to go) – they were rarer but did some real damage whenever they happened. This is where his ability to read people probably started getting honed to its razor sharpness.

As you see there’s a brutal lack of mutuality in this dynamic, and a reversal of how the parent/child dynamic should actually work, the kid desperately having to do their damnedest to regulate the parent to get any needs met at all and not really managing it, because that is the DEFINITION of getting set up to lose, it just can’t work. (And I do think that mutuality Graves freely offers in close relationships is a huuuuuge part of why TF is so attracted to him both initially and enduringly, it fulfills basic needs he didn’t have met as a kid. His mom set him up to give and give and get very little back, but Graves has that basic sense of fairness that he doesn’t want TF to give him something without him getting something of equal value back in return, it just seems against some sort of code haha. There’s no honor among thieves but there is between partners, sort of thing.)

It’s also why he defaults to Flight in very tense situations – when the angry dudes came for him in the incident that lead to his exile he had no one safe to go to for help, and he was one small slip of a kid against a bunch of drunk angry adults; there really wasn’t a lot else his brain knew how to do than get away, and then he’s abandoned for it on top of it all afterwards. Trauma sandwich with shame for mustard holy shit.

I am basing this heavily on the underlying theme in Burning Tides that TF thinks that by running away he’s helping Graves by making sure he won’t put them in a position that’ll invariably seriously hurt (or worse) one or both of them while he’s so angry that he’s not in his right mind, and he’s SO frustrated that Graves doesn’t see that – “Will you ever learn? Every time I try to help you – ”. No, actually, the feeling I get is more that he thinks Graves does understand it – that it’s such a self-evident part of how relationships work that he MUST know it – he’s just ignoring and devaluing it, which is what seems like rejection through TF’s eyes. He’s essentially trying to regulate Graves’ emotions for him in an (innocently instinctive, I think) manipulative way, and he’s hurt and confused as if by rejection that Graves doesn’t accept that or won’t play along with it. “I’m trying to shield you from the consequences of your actions here because I care about you; why won’t you let me???” hahaha. In the process he also can’t take Graves’ emotions seriously or meet them until he’s been chased into a corner and is forced to, because as far as he’s concerned his job is to give them an out from all that and he can’t bear doing ‘his part’ while forced to take in just how broken Graves is inside and what it means; that he’s lost him all over again. There’s no simple ‘okay okay hang on I can fix this by myself one moment please’ here, sunshine.

Interestingly Graves DOES seem to recognize this uh love language of TF’s as it were, when he’s less severely triggered:

Damn me, he’s right. I do things my way. Always have. Whenever I pushed it too far, he had my back. He was always the one with the out.

But I didn’t listen to him that day, and I haven’t since.

And now, I’ve killed us both.

And this is the exact realization that makes him believe TF is telling the truth about what happened back then, and makes him try to save him. It’s not quite forgiveness just like that, all at once, but it is a clearing of Graves’ poor trauma-battered brain’s confusion, like he can finally see both of them clearly again and that there is deep love on both sides here even after everything.

Not only does he recognize it, he even gets it deeply enough that what he returns is in the same language:

Now, at the end, I believe T.F. I know he tried everything to get me out, like he did all those times when we ran together. This time, for once, I’ve got the out. I can at least give him that.

(Which is also proof that Graves is not unheedingly ‘my way or the highway’ or incompetent in relationships, incapable of taking on another person’s point of view and seriously considering it, or cruel or particularly aggressive in close relationships when not completely torn up by trauma. And again that mutual shared sense of fairness I think is at the base of how their dynamic works. He recognizes what TF has done for him and tried to do for him and what it means, and he wants to return that in kind, not least because it’s the fair thing to do. Again, it’s about the mutuality of it all! Graves may need some time to muddle through and figure it out sometimes but y’know he gets there he gets there eventually lmao, in some ways I suspect he can actually be more mature and levelheaded about interpersonal stuff than TF, who, poor man, is just one big aching quivering abandonment issue most days)

Like when it’s finally clicking into place what’s actually going on, that the care he’d thought was there hadn’t been a lie all along after all – suddenly the world makes sense again. Which seems to be enough for him to meet death if not peacefully then at least not as broken inside as he was before that moment and realization. (TBF TF could probably have been a lot more communicative about his intentions instead of expecting Graves to understand it just from his subtle maneuverings and like Vibes haha, but well that was the unspoken deal with his mother, that it had to be seamless so neither of them had to face what was going on)

It feels like a lot of their current issues in communication comes from Graves exasperatedly being like ‘Tobias I don’t want to be managed, I want you to just talk with me like a normal human being’ and ‘chasing after’ him when he pulls away because he feels abandoned, and TF having forgotten how to like… Person during that decade when he was alone, instead just doing that ‘what does this person want from me (and how can I use that to manipulate them)’ dance he’s gotten FRIGHTENINGLY good at with other people and that doesn’t really work with someone that knows you so well and actually wants your company. It’s going to take some sinking in that Graves doesn’t want him for what he can do for him but because, y’know. He’s him and they’re Partners.

I think TF can handle the current (understandable lol) turbulence in their relationship, but his biggest fear is to be really, truly seen by someone and deemed unworthy and abandoned, having let them that close. So in a weird fucked up way he was more okay with Graves trying to hunt him down and kill him than he would have been if he had looked at him as all that he was and went ‘actually y’know what? Fuck this and fuck you you’re not worth it, I’m just leaving without you’. Truly a “TF, he wants to kill you” “*wobbly teary voice* at least someone wants me for something” “TF NO” situation.

TL;DR: their parents were both terrible and dysfunctional in their own ways, but Mama Graves would n e v e r have left her kid alone on that riverbank; she’d sooner have cursed the rest of them black and blue and flipped them off with both hands before marching off with him. Accuse her of many things and rightly so, but she was no coward and she was loyal as fuck to the few things that mattered to her, she would have tried to fight the devil himself with a frying pan for that dumb fucking kid (if she was sober enough that day ouch). In the other direction TF’s mom would never have hit him. TF had more of an experience of a safe community, but then he also had a much more brutal and complete abandonment at the end of that. There are probably very good reasons Graves left Bilgewater for the mainland when he was barely even more than a boy. …man there are so many ways to mess up a child’s brain huh thank god they found each other and mostly managed to make that work honestly

*With the caveat that there’s some wiggle room for change here as I work on my TF POV WIP and refine the ideas I’ve got in there – change more in the small details than in the big picture concepts, though, I think I’ve got that moooostly settled now? also I really want to stress that this is just my ideas and opinions, if you imagine something completely different for their backgrounds that is Valid haha

#anon I hope you see this and also that my full on psychoanalysis at the slightest provocation isn't... too over the top haha #tf x graves #twistedgraves #tfgraves meta #league of legends #writing this all out really helped me solidify some stuff I'd been struggling to put into words so thanks for the prompt!

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

I hope you are having a great day.

I wanted to tell you that I love the way you write and how you show the personality of your characters in so few words.

Also if you have time, for the Bad Things Happend Bingo, could I ask for a Soup for the Sick? (Maybe a villain whumpee)

Thank you for the ask! And especially thank you for that lovely message attached to it, it means a lot!

Soup for the sick... here you go, I hope you enjoy! I did, I had lots of fun writing this one.

Personalized Caretaker

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: drug abuse mention, feverish whumpee, talk of medications, mean caretaker, delirium, fever, pills (tylenol)

... there may be more so tell me if there is so I can list them.

Civilian wished that she didn't live in the most heavily super-powered city in the world.

Yes world.

Villains and heroes all running around like teenagers, not caring for the lives of innocent civilians... or the heroes were meant to, Civilian started to think that the whole "we will protect you" was all phony propaganda aimed to get the city to fund their organization.

But the daily bombings and increasing death toll was not the issue with the city. It wasn't even the large mass of heroes and villains. It was only one.

One.

Of all the heroic figures and devilish snakes, there was only one that ticked Civilian off.

Villain.

And not because he was the King of Monologues. No, it was because the bastard made Civilian his own personal caretaker.

Was she asked to tend to his very needs? No.

Was she hired? Paid? No, but she should be getting a salary for the tedious work of stitching wounds and feeding his greedy stomach. The bandage bills were adding up and Civilian's meager wage was completely wiped out from having to buy a pack every day.

She was an inch away from going on a rage and robbing every bank in the city.

No, she wasn't. She just happened to live on 489 Deertree Avenue, where six months ago the murderous villain decided to collapse unconscious on her doorstep to bleed out like it was no problem.

Like it was a leisure, a recreational activity. Probably to him, waking up in a warm bed, doped up on painkillers with the sickening sweet smell of caramel candles burning around him, it was.

But not to Civilian. She had to manually help the injured individual drink water, get dressed, and even use the bathroom.

UGGGHHHH!

The man had millions of henchmen, billions of wannabe minions at his beck and call.

But he just so happened to have a crush on the red door of 489 Deertree Avenue.

But it was a bad case of unrequited love of the highest order, so no hope of a romantic candlelit date at the most expensive restaurant in the most famous city in the world.

Dairy Queen.

The pure hilarity of that fact. Even the Avenger Tower did not hold nearly as many powered or high-tech individuals as the city and the most fanciest restaurant was a chain fastfood restaurant at the corner of main street.

Civilian clenched the towel she was holding. As much as the stupidity of the city got on her nerves, it was very unpatriotic of her to go on and embarrass the area even more.

Civilian was scrubbing the mirror in the bathroom. The walls of the whole room were stained in the most disgusting brown and red from all the grime and blood radiating off a singular person's- not even the owner of the house- body.

Those would never go away unless Civilian paid for someone to come and mega-wash the bathroom. Not that she had any money to invest in such a delightful gift, her bank account was too busy supporting the prescribed pain medications. Like, Civilian was probably on the watchlist for utter bankruptcy and for being a possible candidate for drug addiction.

Who needs two whole containers of opioids and a canteen of valium every three months?

Not a normal civilian washing floors at Walmart, that's for sure.

But then again, Civilian was far from normal. She worked as a personalized savior during her freetime.

Civilian clenched her teeth and took a deep breath in. Her ward hasn't made his grand appearance in over a week. She actually had time to relax, make some popcorn and actually decompress. It was like vacation, peaceful, tranquil and full of serenity, free of any-

Knock, knock, knock.

Civilian's moment of bliss was unceremoniously ended by the all too familiar beat of a fist on wood.

"You have my permission to make out with the door Villain! You don't need to ask anymore!"

Civilian hoped Villain was coherent enough to internalize that as an invitation to bleed on her couch.

Just so she could have one more moment. One more moment of her coveted break.

Cough.

Civilian's head perked up. That was new. She never, ever heard Villain cough in a sickly manner- she never let him get bad enough to get sick, or he didn't permit himself to wait around until infection and fever set in.

She set down the towel, worry settling into her bones like it always did- not that she liked the heart dropping feelings and nauseating pit in her stomach each and everytime Mr. Needy had blood on him. Or everyday that he didn't show up for a bandaid, or a "kiss-it-better".

Yes, the pure humiliation when her delirious patient painfully begged her to kiss his knee better. Like, the puny scrape on his leg was by far the least severe wound on his bloodstained body, but of course, Civilian complied and gave him a little peck on his Olaf bandaid.

Civilian ripped open the door and the scene in front of her chased away those obnoxious memories.

Villain collapsed into her arms, head lolling pathetically against her shoulder. His forehead felt like it was doused with gasoline and then lit by a torch five times over. Civilian's shocked arms involuntarily wrapped around his equally scorching body. Yes, it was not a conscious act. Not in a million years would Civilian muster up the compassion to actually comfort the villain more than the deed of "saving his life" called for.

No, no Civilian hated Villain. Completely and totally loathed each and every cell on his body.

But she dragged him into the house and shut- more like slammed- the door anyways because she couldn't let him die, it would be like murder's sidekick.

Especially since Villain trusted her. Oh how he trusted her. Trusted her to bathe him, to feed him, to give him medicine, but most importantly not to kill him. With all the horrors he committed, a swift knife to the throat would be more than justified. In fact, Civilian would likely be commemorated for such bravery.

Public approval, fame... all a deliciously yummy cake.

Not worth it. Too many calories.

Civilian sunk to the ground and put Villain's upper body in her lap. He nestled into her, pressing his cheek deep into her side with a small, contented smile on his pale face.

"Don't drool on me," Civilian snapped, jostling Villain who woke up. Before he had the chance to get his bearings, Civilian spoke up again, "Are you hurt?"

The villain stared at her for a while before breaking into desperate tears, shaking his head.

What the heck?

"Stop crying or I will punch you," Civilian threatened, but she rubbed Villain's back soothingly.

"Dying," Villain sobbed.

"You are not dying, buddy, you have a cold."

"No, I'm dying," Villain asserted. Civilian rolled her eyes. Did he have to be so dramatic?

"I don't think a cold will kill you. Stop acting like the world is ending now, or I will throw you in the trash."

Villain whimpered and pulled himself closer, still crying.

He really was sick. So sick to the point of being delirously delusional.

"You don't need to be a Disney princess," Civilian said, still rubbing the villain's back. Villain's cries turned into sobs and then into wails.

Okay this was getting out of hand. Civilian stood up and dragged Villain's body over to the couch. She marveled in her strength for a while. When Villain first made his appearance in her otherwise boring life, she was as skinny as a twig. Now? This girl was a freaking hulk, baby.

Okay stop that, Civilian chastised herself, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She laid Villain on the beige colored couch and rested his wet head against a pillow that was metaphorically marked with his name.

Now that the villain was completely stretched out, Civilian- to her relief- found that he was not bleeding, therefore, she didn't have to waste her precious supply of gauze and bandages tonight.

But he still was very, very sick. His face was a gray mask of pale complexion, his hair snarled and matted in sweat. His lips were tinged blue as unfocused eyes gazed around the room, landing on the TV.

"You want to watch something?" Civilian asked, though the question was more than unnecessary. Villain always watched a movie as he dozed off, warm and comforted by the mound of blankets strewn over him.

But still, like a habit, he nodded weakly each and every time. Civilian smiled, the tiniest of grins, and connected the tablet to the television. When the screen popped up with the classic Amazon Prime Video layout, Civilian asked what movie.

"Boss Baby," Villain mumbled, lips hardly moving.

"You want to watch a movie with baby superheroes? Why don't we watch Toy Story or something?"

Or something a bit more adult-ish.

"Mhm," Villain groaned, eyes slipping shut. "Baby superheroes."

Now it was Civilian's turn to groan, loud and exaggerated. But, still he was her unwelcome guest so she had to please his obnoxiously childish wants.

Like how old was he? Five?

Civilian put in the movie and sat down next to Villain, putting his legs on her lap. She tapped lazily at his jeans as the opening credits showed. Leaning her head back, Civilian allowed her gaze to drift away from the stupid fat-faced animated figures and to Villain.

He was nearly asleep.

Civilian shifted her weight and rested against her arm to watch him. Even sick, she had to admit, the evil and annoying villain was shockingly handsome.

What was she thinking?!

Pushing Villain's feet away, Civilian stood up and aggressively shoved her palm to his forehead. It was buzzing with heat.

"You are paying for the bill," Civilian growled and went to go get some tylenol.

Upon returning to the sickly man's sweaty side, Civilian thrusted the pills into his mouth and washed them down with water. She didn't even give him a chance to wake up fully, the motion was instinctual. He swallowed on reflex.

Next, Civilian cussed herself for this, she cupped his cheek. Villain sunk into her palm, chewing silently, and continued to sleep.

When Villain first visited, Civilian couldn't get over how touch starved the poor guy was. It was to the point of absolute fear of touch. He would shiver before violently flinching away, glaring daggers.

He still didn't allow hugs or a highfive when he was in his right mind- not that Civilian saw him fully conscious ever apart from a couple times.

"Hungry?" Civilian mumbled, more to herself than anyone.

Still, Civilian placed Villain's head back onto the pillow and went into the kitchen to make some soup.

Chicken noodle soup with rice... her specialty. Chicken breast and rich seasoning, even one's dampened taste buds could taste the utter deliciousness of the watery broth.

Then the rice. Sometimes when Villain was on the mend, she would add some wild rice or lentils to the dish. Spooning some basic white rice into the bottom of the bowl, Civilian tapped her foot aimlessly.

The kettle on the stove whistled, Civilian pushed it off the heat and added the seasoning and celery. The savory scent wafted into her nose earning itself a tiny smile from Civilian.

Once the soup was done, she presented it to the still sleeping villain. His mouth hung open, desperate for air that his clogged nostrils couldn't deliver.

Dang. Poor guy was really ill.

Civilian sat next to Villain, so close that she could feel the rise of his chest. She shoved his face upwards. Villain blinked his eyes open and settled his gaze on Civilian's annoyed, but worried, face.

"Ghm," he moaned, rumbled in the back of his throat in a fatigued manner. "Cow hopping."

"Shut up," Civilian scolded and helped Villain to a seating position. He complied, but had no strength left to actually hold the stance.

So Civilian was forced to lay him against her chest and feed him by giving him a big old bear hug. Spoon after spoon went to his mouth until Civilian was just dumping it into his mouth without any natural swallowing reflex.

She took a wet rag and cleaned his face before laying him back onto the couch. Civilian smiled and tenderly touched his eyebrow.

Why did she have to care about him so much?

#bad things happen bingo #villain whumpee #civilian caretaker #villain x civilian #civilian #writing #sick villain #sick whumpee #delirious whumpee

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

Text

Broken Telephone

Request: Spencer Request. You're new to the team, having transferred from the NYPD and are also studying for a Doctorate at the same time. Spencer falls in love with you straight away, but saddens when he hears you talking to JJ about a guy you do a load of fun activities with a guy and a little girl. He assumes you're taken and it breaks his heart. Eventually, he finds out you were talking about your cousin and his daughter & asks you out on a date, and you say yes.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This was a really cute, fun request to write! Starting it was tough though because I didn’t know the exact tone I wanted for it. I hope it’s okay though! When I was reading through the beginning part before I edited it I was like “I have a whole degree in English and I can’t even write properly i hate it here” LOL the first paragraph was a MESS but I fixed it. I think the rest is fine! Enjoy, love!!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: None

Word count: 1.7k

-------------

Upgrading from NYPD to the BAU was probably your greatest career move to date. You hated how NYPD operated and dealt with crimes. It made you so frustrated. If you weren’t born and raised in New York you wouldn’t even be a part of NYPD. You felt as if New York would always be your home, but sometimes you had to branch out to find what’s best for you.

Moving to Washington, D.C. was a completely new start for you and you felt as if it were only right you changed a few things about yourself. First, you cut your hair shorter. Very cliche of a restart arc, but you thought you’d feel free with less weight weighing your head down. You also bought an actual house. After years of living in a small, cramped apartment you thought it was right to invest in something bigger and more welcoming.

The biggest thing you were proud of during the transition to the BAU was finishing your Ph.D. in Linguistics. You had wanted to complete it years ago, but found it difficult to focus on it while at NYPD. With the bureau they allowed you to work on your Ph.D. as long as you worked your agreed-upon hours every week. It felt amazing to finally have a support net to motivate you towards your dreams.

You weren’t the only one excited about your Ph.D. though. Your coworker, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t wait to see you during your time in to discuss your Ph.D. with you. As soon as you walked to your desk, he’d be the first one to greet you with a huge, lovable smile, rosy red cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. You had never seen someone so animated over linguistics before. If you two weren’t talking about linguistics or random facts he would spurt out, the conversation was about you.

On one particular day though, the good doctor was running late to work. You were kind of disappointed you weren’t greeted with a daily dose of facts early in the morning. The second best thing happened when JJ walked towards your desk with two Starbucks coffees.

“Ugh, if I knew you a few years earlier, I would have married you before Will could ever dream to,” you said.

She laughed. “I don’t think Spence would allow that to happen without a fight. He’s been quite the busy bee around you.”

She handed you your drink as you pondered on what she said. Just maybe he had a slight crush on you. The way he expressed his interest was adorable for sure. You preferred his way of flirting over the typical sexualized pick-up lines many men in your life have used.

“Are you saying super-genius Dr. Spencer Reid has a crush on me? I won’t believe it until he runs some tests about your theory,” you said as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Maybe he’ll ask you out one of these days between statistics,” she said.

You smiled. “That would be nice. I just hope he doesn’t do it this weekend. Remember I told you how Adrian was visiting this weekend? He’s bringing the little one with him.”

“Oh, really? What’s their name?”

“Her name’s Rhea. She’s the cutest little thing ever.”

You pulled out your phone to look for a picture of them. You found a picture of the three of you from a few months ago before you left for D.C. You turned your phone to JJ and she instantly melted.

“Oh my gosh, she’s adorable,” she said.

You proudly smiled. “Right. She’s the cutest four-year-old I know. I think I was the happiest one in the room when I met her for the first time. Adrian was a puddle of tears and nerves from the reality of taking care of this little girl forever. He treats her like an absolute princess.”

“You both are lucky to have her in your lives. She looks like a ray of sunshine.”

“She is. We do so many fun things together. The last time we hung out we went to this trampoline park. This weekend we’re going to the food festival.”

“That does sound like a lot of fun. Maybe I’ll bring Will and the kids there.”

You were going to respond to JJ until you noticed Reid sitting at his desk which was diagonally across from yours. You hadn’t even noticed him come in at all let alone sit down to start his workday. He had already buried his nose deep into case files. JJ looked at Reid with as much confusion as you did. He was never quiet unless something was troubling him.

“No fact today for me, doctor?” You joked.

He looked up at you. He had no sparkle in his eye or a blush painted on his face. He looked disappointed. You were confused as to what made your chatty doctor become so mute.

“I just wanted to start these case files,” he said.

“You sure there isn’t anything wrong, Spence?” JJ asked.

“No, I’m fine. I just gotta finish these before Hotch comes in,” he said.

He then buried his face back into the file without uttering another word. You and JJ looked at each other. You were concerned there was something wrong, but JJ’s look said to leave it alone for now. You sighed and took another long sip of your coffee. You stared at him out of the corner of your eye. You hoped whatever he was going through he’d tell you eventually.

————

You packed your things up to leave 20 minutes ago, but stuck around your desk until you saw Reid also getting ready to leave. You wanted to inquire about his miserable attitude towards you. You noticed throughout the day he was normal with everyone else except you. When you tried to spark conversation, he would give you quick, to the point answers before he made a B-line back to his desk. He gave you no choice but to crack him.

As soon as you saw him put his books and files into his satchel. He swung the strap around his shoulder and made his way to the door. He didn’t even look at you the whole time he got ready to leave. This was getting ridiculous to you. You picked up your purse and ran towards him before he caught the elevator.

“Spencer,” you called out.

He turned to look at you. “What’s up?”

You looked at him confused. “What’s up with me? What’s up with you?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you haven’t talked to me or even looked at me longer than a second today.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“You weren’t too busy to tell Morgan how many microscopic mites were living on his face today.”

“I thought it was valuable information he needed to know.”

“And you didn’t think it would be valuable to tell me?”

“In the moment, no.”

He went to go press the button for the elevator but you stopped his hand. You grabbed his hand tightly to make sure he didn’t escape your grip. He looked at you as if he was uncomfortable with you touching him. You knew awhile ago he had thing about not liking to shake hands, but you had stepped over that barrier with him a long time ago.

“I don’t think you should be doing this,” he quietly said.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why not?”

“I feel as if I’ve been intruding,” he said.

“Intruding on what?”

“Your family life.”

You let go of his hand as you stood there in shock. You didn’t understand what he meant when he said that. If he wanted to ask you out all he had to do was ask and you’d sort out your schedule. Adrian and Rhea would understand if you took a few hours to go on your first date in over two years.

“You think you’re intruding on my family life? How so?” You asked.

“If you really want to know I wanted to take you to the food festival this weekend because I know how much you love unique foods, but then I heard you and JJ talking about your partner and daughter coming this-“

“Hold up, wait,” you said before bursting into an uncontrollable laugh.

He looked at you funny. You watched as he stared in confusion as you laughed at his interpretation of your conversation with JJ. To be fair you had never mentioned Adrian and Rhea to him before, but you didn’t know he’d be eavesdropping in your conversation with JJ.

“You think Adrian’s my partner and Rhea’s my kid? Well, I’m proud to say that for once in Dr. Spencer Reid’s life he is completely, utterly wrong.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Adrian’s my cousin and Rhea’s his daughter. They’re coming to visit me from New York for the weekend. Adrian’s basically like a big brother to me.”

His face went from confused to embarrassed in a fraction of a second. His face turned to that noticeable red and an awkward smile spread across his face. You continued to laugh at his demeanour as you pressed the elevator button, so the two of you could actually get going.

“Oh. I’m so sorry for being weird to you, Y/N. I just felt terrible for thinking about asking you on a date while you were in a committed relationship,” he said.

“I get it, I do. I think you can make it up to me though,” you said.

The elevator dinged and the two of you stepped inside. He looked at you in amusement. You looked back at him with a big smile on your face and big, hopeful eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Would you like to go on a date?” He asked.

You nodded your head. “I’d love to. We can even go to the food festival, so you can meet Adrian and Rhea in person.”

“That would be nice. I heard you telling JJ how lovely they are.”

“I bet they seem even lovelier now that you know they’re not my partner and child.”

“You can say that.”

—–

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Spencerreid #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #mgg #mgg imagine #Matthew Gray Gubler #spencer reid request #spencer reid prompt

968 notes · View notes

atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Light Up The Dark

Part 3 | I am fused just in case I blow out

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: smut +18 miniors dni, swear words?, drinking, mention of anxiety crisis, let me know if anything else!

words: 4.3 k

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! If you want to be tagged in the next chapters let me know!!

PART 3 if you want to read part 2 click here!

Y/n sat down with her coffee at a cafeteria table. She took a deep breath and opened her notebook, double-clicking the document and revealing the page she'd been trying to write for some time. It couldn't be happening again. It was already the third writer's block in a row and to say she was starting to get angry was an understatement.

It was becoming a constant problem and she didn't know what to do anymore. It was getting embarrassing how many times she had gone to her neighborhood coffee shop. Staying in her apartment alone was making her completely claustrophobic, which was ironic given her apartment was so big and spacious.

But what was making her so upset and with that lack of creativity? That's what she wanted to find out. Maybe it was the story, maybe it would be a sign that that story shouldn't be written.

She took a deep breath and rested her chin on her palm looking at the screen. She didn't want to give up on June, her character, so easy. She really want to finish this, had she already invested too much time in something that in the end would come to nothing? That didn't sound like her.

But if that were the only way, she would have no alternative, she would have to give up and maybe come back one day when her creativity shines again.

She felt her cell phone vibrate in her coat pocket and caught it looking that was Milla. She slid the screen and answered.

- Hi Mil... - she said a little discouraged.

- Hey Lovey! Why the sad voice? - Milla said and Y/n smirked.

- Just discouraged with the new book...

- Nothing yet? - Mila already knew about the extensive Y/n block’s creativity since she kept calling asking for tips on teas or candles that would bring inspiration (since Mil was an expert in these crazy things about spiritism and nature), which obviously didn't help.

- Nothing, actually I'm thinking about giving up this time...

- Hey Hey hey! No giving up, are you crazy? - Milla said and Y/n sighed. - You just need a little push, it will come back eventually.

- I don't know Mil... It seems that the inspiration went away for good.

- Since when did you lose your ideas? I remember that weeks ago you were all excited, you even wrote three wonderful chapters, maybe if you try to do the same thing you did in these weeks the ideas will come back... - Milla said and Y/n started to remember the weeks that passed. What had she done? Well, she had spent more at home as usual, a few days meeting with the director of the series based on her book, chatting a bit with Emma Brown, and the other day doing an interview for a famous magazine, but that was it. She hadn't done anything big...

Y/n thought some more. Emma Brown and her birthday party, after that day she had a flurry of ideas where she wouldn't stop writing, but then what happened to make everything suddenly stop? Well, there was an obvious incident... And by incident she meant: Tom. That waiter had really messed with her the two nights she had been with him. But she hadn't seen him since and she was super okay with it, it wasn't like she was thinking about him, his smell, his smile, the way he knew how to touch her... Ok, that was going too far.

But why since she saw him she started having her lack of ideas again? It wasn't possible. What if he was inspiring her in some way or another? Maybe the way he relaxed her and made her forget about everything made her creative.

- Y/n? Bestie? - Milla asked on the other end of the line. - Are you still there?

- Hi Mil! - Y/n said out of his thoughts. - Sorry, I went out of orbit for a few seconds.

- I noticed... What are you thinking about huh?

- Oh no big deal... Just... I have to prove a theory and if it works out I'll tell you.

- Theory? What theory? - Milla asked curiously.

- I have to go, but I'll call you later ok? - Y/n said and didn't wait for Milla to answer, hanging up the phone and hurriedly packing up her things.

She had to prove she wasn't going crazy. Maybe Tom really was her energy charge in some way, she had to prove if her creativity would come back. And if he was, she really wouldn't know what to do. She couldn't sleep with him every time her lack of ideas came up. But, she was desperate and despair brought drastic attitudes.

So she ran back to her apartment to change her clothes. To think that she had sworn to herself that she wouldn't go after him, was humiliating, but she didn't care at the moment. As soon she got home, she went straight to her closet, wanting to impress him, but at the same time she wanted him to think that she went there to get someone else, it would be less pathetic.

She spotted a white dress, one that she had never worn before, presumably because she didn't like to show too much of her body, but she decided to take a chance with it. She dressed, put on her high-heeled sandals and did her makeup (the basic one she knew how to do) and when it was almost 11pm she was heading towards the Seven Devils bar.

Arriving there, she saw the same security guard who had let her through, a friend of Tom's. She nodded to him and entered. The bar was a little more crowded, maybe because it was friday night. He felt butterflies in her stomach, what if someone recognized her? She doubted they would, but even though she wasn't doing anything wrong she hated being in the media. She took a deep breath and went deeper into the room. It was dark and the dance floor was open, crowded with people dancing and few people sitting at the table. Only the bar light was visible, where she immediately looked for someone with brown hair and a bar uniform, but she didn't saw him, just Sally, the other bartender. Maybe he has a day off?

She headed towards the bar to order a drink, leaning against the counter and looked around, no sign of him. Maybe she had gone there for nothing. Sally approached and Y/n smiled asking for a drink, she didn't want to ask about him because it would be too much and besides Sally didn't recognize her, or pretended not to, so it would be weird.

- Special night? - Y/n asked when she delivered her drink, indicating the number of people and why the dance floor was open.

- Yeah, we do it every friday, the bar ends up turning into a club. - Sally replied taking some glasses and turned to serve other customers.

She picked up her glass and headed out onto the dance floor. It wouldn't hurt for her to have a little fun. Weaving through the crowd, she started shyly dancing for a few long minutes alone, until a guy approached.

-Hey ...-he said smiling and stopped in front of her.

- Hey... - Y/n said suspiciously and looked around drinking her drink.

- I saw you're alone... Can I stay here? he asked and Y/n bit her lip thoughtfully. Well, Tom clearly wasn't there and what if his ideas didn't just depend on him? But of her hooking up with someone? Anyone...

- Of course! - she said smiling at last and he approached dancing with her while the lights flashed. He was handsome, had those piercing eyes that wouldn't stop watching her every move.

Another song started to play and Y/n started dancing more sensually. The boy came even closer placing his hand on her waist and she smiled, satisfied with her effect. Everything was going well until she glanced at the bar and found a pair of brown eyes staring at her.

Tom. So there he was, wearing his uniform, his hair pulled back as usual, he was gorgeous and with a shaker in one hand shaking furiously. He didn't take his eyes off hers which made her shiver.

He just looked away when he had to take care of the next customer, and Y/n looked at the guy in front of her, where she now had a hand on his shoulder. Who was she kidding? She wanted Tom... At least she would try to have him that night, because she was curious to test her theory with him.

- I'll be right back. - she said and the guy opened his arms disappointed as she walked away, taking the rest of her drink and heading towards the bar again.

She leaned against the counter and saw Tom saying goodbye to a customer looking at her from the corner of his eye. She approached her and grinned when he stopped in front of her.

- This is getting embarrassing darling... - he said wiping the counter with a towel.

- What are you talking about?- she asked raising an eyebrow.

- You coming here just to see me? Tsc tsc... pathetic - he said with a smirk and Y/n felt her stomach turn with anxiety as he looked up at her.

- And who said I came here for you? - She said trying to hide it.

- I don't know, maybe because you could have gone to any bar better than this one in the entire city, but you chose this one, strange isn't it? - He asked taking her glass and preparing another drink.

- Funny, I only came here because I liked the place last time... Besides I was even flirting with another guy seconds ago, so your theory doesn't make sense. - Y/n said ironically and did not take her eyes off his trying to be firm on her tone.

- Yeah, I know... But it's funny that you didn't take your eyes off me while dancing with him... - he said putting her glass, now full, back on the counter.

- I was just surprised to have seen you, since I had even forgotten that you worked here. - She said drinking a sip from her glass and he laughed ironically.

-Of course love ... Of course ...-he said tilting his head to the side and approached his face to hers leaning on the counter. Y/n stared at him a little lost in his scent coming in waves to her nose and she could now see his freckles up close, as well as the arrogant smile that never left his face.

- I bet you came here for another round, right? he said quietly, his breath hitting her face and she almost closed her eyes. -Getting dressed like that, dancing sensually while watching me...-he said biting his lip looking her face up and down and stopping at her lips. Y/n swallowed, ok he had an almost paranormal effect on her.

- I-I... - she stuttered and he smiled even more seeing her disconcerted. - I don't know what you're talking about. - Y/n said finally and walked away a little, wanting to get out of that situation. She wanted him, but she didn't want to give out so easily.

- Of course you don't know sweetheart, but I can remind you later. - He said, winking and then walking away, heading towards another customer who had arrived.

Y/n let out the air she didn't even know she was holding, tooking a big swig of her drink and set the glass on the counter heading back to the floor. Tom was very arrogant, but denying that she didn't like it was a lie.

She arrived on the floor and went back to dancing closer. The guy from before now was talking to another girl which made her a little sad, she wanted to have fun with Tom's face some more. She stayed there for a few minutes, until three people approached her, surrounding her.

- Hey... Aren't you the Y/n? - a girl said and Y/n wanted to hide for a moment.

- Erm... I am. - She said smiling.

- I saw you in an interview last week! I love your books! Take a picture with me? she asked taking her cell phone out of her pocket.

- Of course! - Y/n said and posed with the three people while they took pictures.

- Hey! You are Y/n aren't you? I saw you in Emma's birthday pictures! -a guy said right behind approaching too and some people around her start to look at her.

- It is true! I recognized her from somewhere! - another girl said also approaching and Y/n started to get a little scared. She didn't see the harm in taking pictures with some fans, but being buried by them was a nightmare.

- Take a picture with me? - another also said.

- Your books are terrible! - another one shouted laughing.

- I bet the next one will be even worse!

- Who is this? Never heard of it!

- I bet it must be some actress wanting attention.

And when she saw she was surrounded by a crowd almost being suffocated, but more people kept surrounding her and filling her with questions about her book, or cursing her in some way, which started to make her sick and claustrophobic .

-Please, guys...-she started to speak, but her voice broke and was lost with the loud music and with the people talking loudly around her. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out. Until she felt someone putting a hand on her waist and guiding her out of the crowd hurriedly walking beside her.

The crowd started to follow them and Y/n just stared at her feet, still feeling her heart beat fast. The next thing she saw was this person pulling her to the side of the bar through a door and then closing it.

He looked around when the light was turned on and saw some boxes on the floor and shelves. She was in a warehouse and Tom was standing in front of her.

- You are okay?- he asked looking at her worriedly.

- I...- She closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. - I'm fine, it was just a scare, thank you for saving me...

- It's ok darling... - he said approaching to check if she was really ok and Y/n felt dizzy, staggering a little and he held her by the waist preventing her from falling. - Whoa, I don't think you're okay, love.

- It's ok, it was just an anxiety attack with drinking... - she said putting her hand on her temples, feeling her vision rotate a little. - I just... I really want to leave.

- Okay, how about we walk slowly and I take you home? -He said still holding tight to her waist and she looked at him.

-O-ok...- she said nodding and they started walking slowly.

After passing through the warehouse, Tom opened another door that opened into the backyard of the bar, where he could see his car. He helped her in and sat down next to her.

- Tom? - Y/n asked when he started the car and starting to move.

- Huh? -he said turning his face towards her.

- Can you... Can you take me somewhere else? I don't want to go home... - she said feeling a little pathetic. But she didn't want to face her gigantic apartment right now, wanted to be with someone somewhere else who didn't remember what she'd just been through.

- Sure darling... - he said stopping at the red light. - Where you want to go?

- Could be your house? I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything, I just... I need to calm down somewhere else... - She started to say hesitant.

- Hey, fine, no problem. -He said putting his hand in hers, that was on her lap, comforting her and she shook her head, seeing him to remove, putting back on the steering wheel. She wanted him to keep his hand there, but obviously she stay quiet, leaning her head against the window, trying to calm down.

After a few minutes they reached his building, where Tom parked and helped her to go out of the car. Y/n followed him to the front door and they took the elevator. She was still silent the whole time and he didn't want to say anything either, just glanced at her time to time, maybe checking her if she was okay and looking away afterwards.

They arrived at Tom's apartment and Y/n looked around. It was small but cozy. There was a living room with a small kitchen and a hallway leading to another door that appeared to be his bedroom.

- How about you stay in my room and I give you some clothes to make you more comfortable? -He said putting his hand on her back guiding her while she nodded.

They entered the room and Y/n sat on the edge of the bed. As Tom opened his closet, taking off his shoes and choosing a comfortable T-shirt and pants for her to wear. He approached her again putting the clothes beside her.

- Well, you can make yourself comfortable ok? I'll let you... - he start to said.

- Tom. - Y/n interrupted him. - Please stay here. - She said feeling her heart start beating fast and her breathing quicken. She thought back to the horrible comments and the crowd that had surrounded her. Maybe now pictures of her were all over the internet and it made her anxious again. She closed her eyes feeling tears wanting to flow. She opened them again and the tears finally spilled out, rolling down her cheeks.

- Hey, hey darling. It’s alright, I'm here. -he said getting down in front of her, putting a hand on her cheek wiping away some tears.

- Sorry, I just... That's ridiculous, sorry...

- Shh... - he said calming her and looking at her. - It's not ridiculous ok? You don't need to apologize for anything. -He said caressing her cheek.

- It's just... I keep thinking about those horrible comments and how my picture must be all over the place. - Y/n said wiping some tears that insisted on falling.

- Darling... You don't need to think about it, okay? Those people who said that are terrible, I don't want you to think about anything now how about that? - he said and Y/N looked at him.

- I wish I could turn off those thoughts. -she said sniffling a little, averting her eyes and Tom stroked her leg slowly comforting her. For a moment she felt her body shiver, but it was because Tom was touching her and not because of her crisis. He stopped pulling his hand away and Y/n looked at him. - Tom... Can you continue?

- What do you mean? - he asked confused looking into her eyes.

- Touching me... I mean, you were doing a good job distracting me. - She said smiling slightly and he smiled back.

- Sure…- he said getting down on his knees and taking her calf slowly and kissing her lightly, not taking his eyes off hers at any time. Y/n wanted to close her eyes, but at the same time wanted to look at him, so she decided to keep them open.

Tom took off his sandals slowly, and was kissing from her calf to her thigh, stroking lightly with his hand that held her, and she felt shivers down her spine. . He reached her inner thigh and took a small bite causing her to sigh and bite her lip in response. He lifted his head to look at her and smiled. Y/n not resisting, bent down kissing him with desire. He placed one of his hand on her face kissing her back while his other hand still rested on her thigh squeezing.

She kept kissing him until she felt she needed of air and they parted, out of breath. Tom touched his nose to hers lightly and Y/n closed his eyes feeling him.

- Tom... I want to feel you... - she said approaching her mouth again. - Make love with me? - she asked quietly and she could feel him smile against her mouth.

-Whatever you want sweetheart... - he said and stood up suddenly with hush, bringing her along by her legs, making her gasp in surprise, putting her down on the bed and lying on top of her afterwards.

He went back to kiss her, exploring her mouth eagerly and she placed her hand on the back of her neck, pulling his hair. He paced his hands over her body and she hurriedly took his shirt off, running hers over his defined bare chest.

- I didn't tell you this before, but you look wonderful in that dress, teased me all night, but I confess I'd rather see you without... - He bit down lightly below her ear making her moan low, he raised the hem of her dress, stepping away and helping her get it off and throwing it aside.

Now he was kissing her collarbone, lowering the kisses to her breasts making her arch her back a little wanting to get even closer to his mouth. When she reliase he had removed her bra and smirked looking at her.

- I have to be honest...I missed that image. - he said and Y/n almost hid by the way he looked at her, it was like she was a sculpture, it was a look of admiration and desire. A look that made her forget the world.

He kissed her breasts and positioned himself between her legs, meanwhile taking off his pants, along with his boxers, while still paying attention to each of her nipples, sucking them making her moan low. He returned his kisses to her lips again kissing her more slowly this time, moving his hand to her panties and running his fingers slowly through the fabric, setting aside and feeling how pathetically wet she was for him. Y/n moaned against his lips again and he groaned pulling back a little.

-I love how you're always ready for me darling...-he said making his lips touch hers lightly and she could only moan in response as he made slow circles on her clit.

- Tom... - she said weakly and he smiled seeing how she was vulnerable for him. - Please, I need you inside me, now... - Y/n managed to said between moans, arching her waist against his hand.

- So demanding and desperate love ... - he said taking his hand of her making her protest with the lack of contact. - But I have to confess that you get even hotter that way. - He said stretching to get a condom in the drawer on the side of the bed and opened the package adjusting on his member right after. Y/n ran her hands on his arms, meanwhile, just admiring his body and how lucky she was. He looked back at her and smiled seeing that she was admired him with concentration. - Still with me darling?

She looked him in the eye again and nodded, kissing his neck then making him bite his lip. Tom took his cock closing his eyes and penetrated her slowly, so that she got used to his size. When he was fully inside her he turned to look at her closely and stroked her cheek lightly as if asking permission to move, which she readily agreed.

He started to move slowly, making her feel every piece of him by wich thrust he was doing, until he picked up a fast pace that made her moan with pleasure gripping his shoulders tightly and even scratchin him a little. He made her feel like she was flying and he penetrated her so deliciously it felt like a dream.

Tom took one of her legs and wrapped it around his waist, making him penetrate her even deeper, which made her almost combust. He was silent the entire time, as well as her, what could be heard were just the moans of the two that echoed through the room.

After what seemed like an eternity. Tom slowed his pace a little. Putting one of his hands on the side of Y/n's head, squeezing the sheet and the other on her leg, squeezing it willingly.

- Fuck Darling... I’m gonna come... - he said breathlessly lost in his pleasure.

- Tom... - Y/n could only said and he took his hand from her leg going to her clit again stimulating it with his fingers and increasing his pace again, until the two reached the orgasm together between moans and low breathless curses.

Tom placed a few kisses on Y/n's neck returning to his senses and Y/n closed her eyes just feeling his touch. He then got off her and lay beside her looking at the ceiling. Catching his breath. After cleaning themselves in silence, the two returned to bed lying side by side.

- You ok? he asked finally breaking the silence looking at her.

-More than ok...- Y/n said lying on his side towards him. -I'm just tired...-she said lazily starting to close her eyes and the last thing she felt before falling asleep was Tom kissing her forehead.

taglist: @usuck @petesrparker

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #bartender!tom #bartender!tom x famous!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland series #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction

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wangxiandecoded · 4 years

Text

Episode 10

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Going to draw a heart over Wangxian to keep track of every time the camera shows someone third wheeling them from now on.

Wei Ying uses his Binding/Bonding talisman on Xue Yang to show Lan Zhan it’s a dynamic tool that doesn’t deserve to be named “Boring”. Even though there’s a serial killer on the loose, Lan Zhan’s opinions on his inventions matter a lot to him. Standard Wei Ying stuff.

Wangxian’s Mirrors

At this point of the show, I could not believe there was a couple who directly mirrored Wangxian. And surprise! They were two men who dressed in black and white and came together for their common vision exactly like Wangxian did. Wei Ying cannot help but connect the dots and Lan Zhan is already aware of their eminence.

Xue Yang Fancies The Yiling Laozu

Xue Yang’s introduction makes the story take a darker turn but also a gayer one. The homoerotic subtext between him and Wei Ying literally jumps out of the screen.

(This episode had a lot of moments that were just begging for alternate dialogues to be written. I just wanted to have fun with the subtext that’s already present.)

Wei Ying doesn’t want Lan Zhan to waste his precious breath interrogating the bad guy. He protectively steps up (something he does quite a lot) and puts some distance between the both of them.

But he wants Lan Zhan to hold his sword while he does that.. and if that act wasn’t necessarily considered to be intimate or romantic before, it just became that after Lan Zhan refused to do it in front of everyone.

Wei Ying has uttered many conspicuously gay things on the show but most of them are with reference to Lan Zhan. Therefore, this is possibly the gayest dialogue he has ever said in a strictly non-Lan Zhan context.

His tone is all, “Honey, you've been existing for 5 minutes, I'm the queerest person the cultivation world has seen in a millennium. You think frisking a guy is going to make me feel scandalized?” This is nuts to me because Xue Yang is arguably the most blatantly coded gay character on the show.. and here is Wei Ying all but saying he can outgay him. That he shouldn’t come after his job. And Lan Zhan just looks like..

It is curious how Lan Zhan says no to something that would require Wei Ying to go near Xue Yang again.

We get it, Lan Zhan. It was hard to see your guy giving attention to someone who wasn’t you.

When Lan Zhan is unsure what's happening back home, the first person his eyes seek is Wei Ying, his source of strength and reassurance.

SongXiao Help WangXian Fall Deeper In Love

Wei Ying is euphoric to meet another pair of Soulmates™. (The same kind of glee that queer people feel when they meet a celebrity queer couple.) His relationship with Lan Zhan just gained supreme validation and a boost to the power of infinity!

He sees everything he has with Lan Zhan reflected in SongXiao’s relationship. He admires them and is delighted that people like them who aren’t concerned with clan drama can walk the wider path of justice, and also lead successful, honourable lives. He looks to Lan Zhan for confirmation but Lan Zhan doesn’t seem too eager to publicize the super sweet promise they made at the lantern ceremony or the fact that he’s been secretly enjoying Wei Ying’s companionship on this expedition. And let’s be honest, it would’ve been more shocking if Lan Zhan did confirm any of that here.

Cheer up, Wei Ying! Lan Zhan will get plenty more opportunities to prove his love for you and he'll ace every single one of them.

No one asked for this but thank you NHS for declaring your ideal type is beautiful gentlemen who fight crime together and unapologetically go their own way.

The parallels between the two pairs write themselves. More importantly, it is while watching SongXiao leave together that Lan Zhan stumbles onto an epiphany.

This is such an underrated moment in the show. The sorrowful music and slow-motion shot of Lan Zhan looking at Wei Ying with vulnerability all over his face once again drives it home that Wei Ying is The One for him, and he is his. He was already getting tired of denying that Wei Ying is his soulmate in every sense there is, and he feels his pain and sadness in this moment. It is enough for Jiang Cheng to feel sorry for him and move on but not for Lan Zhan who feels all that his soulmate feels.

It is overwhelming and brand new information to Lan Zhan himself that he can feel it because Wei Ying is not in impending danger right now, so this need he feels to protect him and be there for him can only mean that he loves him beyond the shadow of a doubt. Wei Ying seems upset thinking about his mother and Lan Zhan gets it, without Wei Ying having uttered a word the whole time. His face shows a kind of defeat in this scene; he surrenders to everything he has known and felt for some time now : He's in love with Wei Ying and would tear down the universe without a second thought if it means it would rid him of his unhappiness. And he isn't able to do that in this moment. But thanks to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, he’s found comfort in the truth they have each other at the end of the day, even if they have nothing left in this world. He cannot give back to Wei Ying what he has lost but he can accompany him in his sadness, and it will have to be enough. And it is, because Wei Ying can overcome just about everything as long as Lan Zhan walks by his side.

Wei Ying Says Lan Clan Deserves Rights

Wei Ying has many nice things to say about the Lan clan who he found exhausting a few months ago. Love brings about miraculous changes in a person, y’all.

Wei Ying gravitates towards Lan Zhan as if it's second nature to him and it really is.

Jiang Cheng spends a lot of time trying to get Wei Ying to spill the Top Secrets about the Yin Iron and Wei Ying is like, "Sorry, I’m bound by the Soulmate laws to tell you absolutely nothing."

Wei Ying is already embracing the idea of controlling the Yin Iron and people are rightfully getting offended by his suggestion.

What did you expect, Wei Ying? Not everyone is your lifetime confidant to give you the benefit of the doubt and reciprocate it with compassion, trust and open-mindedness.

Wangxian’s Temporary Separation

What was that, Wei Ying? Did we hear you admit that the Gusu Lan roof is softer than the one in Qinghe? Could this have anything to do with a certain law enforcer in Cloud Recesses you fell in love with at first sword fight?

There is a delicate, bittersweet air to this separation, and even the casual watcher is going to be wondering, “When did I get so invested in Wangxian that WuJi makes me want to cry?”

It's cute how Lan Zhan is like, “Okay, I’ve seen the love of my life for one last time, I’ll quietly take my leave so he doesn’t know I was waiting for him to come back.”

Turns out, "I'll sleep on your roof tonight," is one of the most romantic things we could tell the person we love. Isn't it brilliant that just few seconds ago Wei Ying had said he will take whatever ground he finds as his home for the night, and how utterly beautiful is it to have followed it up with this dialogue? “Lan Zhan, I'll sleep on your roof tonight.” Because the world is big but my home is wherever you are. That’s where I’m happiest, I'll sleep on this rugged roof and walk through thorns if it means I get to be by your side. I won't mind it at all. And how unbelievably romantic is it that Wei Ying makes a philosophical statement about life, which ends up being about Lan Zhan?

Lan Zhan hears the implications in his voice. And he openly yearns to stay behind a little longer and commit to his memory what Wei Ying looks like when he is drunkenly proclaiming his love for him under the moonlight. It is pleasantly surprising that Lan Zhan is willing to express his emotions when he knows he is safe from Wei Ying hearing them, that he doesn't mind telling him goodbye when he thinks Wei Ying won't remember it.

But the audience can hear his voice and we are going to remember it. How, "Wei Ying, I have to go," is uttered in a cadence so sweet we did not know Lan Zhan was capable of before this. And the choice of words do not simply mean that he’s going to leave, but that he has to, and most certainly not because he wants to. And how it really means, “I’m worried about everything, but especially you, and I'm sorry I have to go. I have to trust that we'll both be okay on this path. Please know that I don't wish to leave you, and forgive me for it. Wei Ying, I love you."

Even their temporary separation hurts so good. If they were meant to be best buddies, this scene wouldn't have been shot so poignantly. But we got used to seeing them together and every frame is designed to dig deeper into your heart and instil the fact that these soulmates are parting, and we don’t know when they’ll see each other again. This is the melancholy of a man who does not wish to be away from his lover but is forced to for the sake of the greater good. Anyone can see that.

The rooftop and moonlit night come as a callback to their first meeting, only Lan Zhan no longer wants to point the tip of his sword at Wei Ying, it gives him far greater satisfaction to place Wei Ying behind his sword.

I haven’t counted the number of times people acknowledge Wangxian’s relationship and/or know that they are inseparable, but it’s safe to say almost every character does that at some point. And some even know how to exploit their weakness, that in order to hurt one of them, the surefire way is to simply aim for the other like Wen Chao does here.

To summarize, Episode 10 saw Lan Zhan showing us his true colors : When he isn’t occupied with being the esteemed, intimidating Lan Wangji, he’s busy being a regular, sweet, romantic guy in love. And Wei Ying did that. He single-handedly exposes the soft side of Lan Zhan that nobody sees to the audience now and the world later on.

This episode also gave us this : Two soulmates chilling shoulder to shoulder zero feet apart because they’re falling in love.

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missing-marvel · 4 years

Text

The Shape of You (Pt. 4)

Pairing: Vision/Reader

Part 3, Part 5

Words: 5698

A/N: *shows up several months late with coffee and a new chapter* What’s up y’all, who’s ready for more metal husband?

You awoke feeling sluggish and hazy, practically choking on dust and resisting the need to sneeze. The feeling quickly shifted to panic as you opened your eyes to even more darkness which only worsened when you tried to move, something blocking the space in front of you as well as tangling around your legs. It wasn’t until you rolled to the floor with a loud ‘thud’ that you remembered falling asleep on the sofa. You didn’t remember grabbing a blanket, however, which had gotten wrapped around your legs in your sleep.

You recognized Vision’s silhouette as he appeared hurriedly from the other room. You couldn’t see much in the dim light, but you could recognize him by his eyes alone. They glowed softly in the dark, that electric-blue bringing some familiarity to your surroundings.

The lights came on and you were momentarily blinded, shielding your eyes with your hand as they adjusted. “Sorry,” you said, blinking the last remnants of sleep away. “I just fell off the sofa. I’m okay.” You took a good look around the room for the first time since arriving, still not bothering to get up off the floor. It looked like a fairly basic living space. There was a patterned rug, a coffee table, some shelves with a few random knick-knacks, the usual. You did notice the lack of a TV, however. You supposed it wasn’t worth investing in one if no one would be living here ninety-nine percent of the time.

Still a bit groggy, you almost didn’t see Vision walk over to you and extend a hand to help you up. To be completely honest, you were perfectly comfortable on the floor but you weren’t going to turn him away. You uttered a quick ‘thanks’ as you got to your feet.

You had absolutely no idea what time it was but it was definitely dark out. Not a speck of light filtered in through the drawn curtains. Whether it was evening or early morning, however, you hadn’t a clue. “What time is it?”

Vision pointed to a digital clock sitting on a bookshelf close by. It read 6:30.

“I only slept for a few hours?” Well, more like several hours, by your estimate. It was broad daylight when you’d arrived. Still, that was surprising given that you’d basically passed out as soon as you got indoors and hadn’t slept in like two days.

Vision shook his head, however, cutting off your train of thought. He held up one finger on his right hand and put it down before holding up nine in total. It took you a second to understand what he meant, thinking he was saying ten before realizing.

“Are you saying I slept nineteen hours?” Vision just nodded and you let out a sigh. That explained why you felt so stiff. That much time on a sofa, even a surprisingly comfortable one, would take its toll. One other thing struck you, however. “Wait a minute, so it’s six in the morning, then? It’s awfully dark out.” You chanced a peek out the window to actually confirm that it was, in fact, dark outside.

You turned back when you heard the familiar scratch of pen on paper. It looked like Vision had found a new notepad somewhere. By the time you walked over, he had finished writing. “Clock is an hour ahead. Haven’t fixed it. Only got power back on a couple hours ago.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.” This time of year, it was perfectly normal to be dark at 5:30. However, it was also cold outside and you were beginning to notice that in here as well. You picked up the blanket off the floor and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around yourself. “Is there heat at all?”

Vision wrote his response as quick as possible, handwriting still impeccable as always. “It’s on but not very strong. Building isn’t in best condition anymore. There’s fuses missing so I prioritized some things. A few lights aren’t going to work.” He stepped aside and gestured somewhere down the small hallway behind him. On the wall was an open panel.

“Wait this place still has a fuse box? The Avengers couldn’t afford someplace with circuit breakers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your own joke, if you could really call it that. You were just happy your custodial knowledge was relevant for once.

“Old SHIELD building,” Vision quickly noted. If this place had been built by the Avengers, it would be far more modern, probably to an unnecessary extent. Tony Stark would only stand for the best, even if it was a safe house that would almost never get used.

“Shield? Are they still around?” You only sort of understood what SHIELD was. No more than any other member of the general public. They were a kind-of, sort-of government agency or something like that. They always kept their stuff super secret so most people never really knew what they did. Then there was the whole deal with Hydra which nobody understood. You decided a long time ago it wasn’t worth worrying about, much like most of the American populace. Perhaps you should have paid closer attention.

Vision simply tilted his hand side-to-side in a gesture that implied that the answer was complicated and really not worth getting into. He shifted the conversation to you instead. “How are you feeling?”

“I should be asking you that. You weren’t doing so well yesterday.” You tried not to let the worry in your voice show, though you weren’t sure what good it would do.

You thought you saw a hint of a smile cross his face as he turned back to his paper. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.”

“Vision...” You recalled back to the other night, when you’d told him nearly the same thing after a couple solid days of no sleep. Before you could retort, however, he’d turned and headed toward the other room, gesturing for you to follow.

The small office space was an absolute mess. The only reason you called it an office was the papers and folders scattered around the room as well as the computer tucked away on a desk in the corner. Underneath a blanket of dust, it looked almost exactly like the first computer you’d ever owned. Actually, it might just be the first computer. You were pretty sure it should be in a museum.

Vision navigated the difficult terrain with ease as he made his way to the desk. You, on the other hand, felt like you were doing a balancing act as you tried to limit your steps to the few parts of the floor that were visible. You didn’t know what all these stacks of papers and folders were exactly, but you figured it was best not to mess with them.

“There’s no way that thing works,” you said once you’d cleared a spot to stand by the desk, your own little island of shag carpeting amongst the sea of paper.

Vision pried open a panel on the side of the computer, carefully removing a CPU board with all the expertise of a seasoned technician. The actual monitor was half buried in a pile of miscellaneous cords and plugs next to the desk. After a brief moment of inspection, wherein he must’ve decided all appeared fine, he went ahead and booted the thing up.

It chugged to life like a patient coming out of surgery, slowly and with great difficulty. It made sounds you were pretty sure should only be coming from a lawn mower but all the lights eventually blinked on in time. As it did so, you braved the sneeze-inducing dust pile for the monitor, the air turning cloudy as you shifted all the junk that had been untouched for years. “I’m guessing you’ll need this?” You hoisted the dinosaur of a monitor up onto the desk, Vision taking it gratefully and nodding a thanks your way.

For a minute after he plugged it in, it seemed the screen wasn’t going to work. Only after staring at it did you realize it was working, albeit extremely slowly. A symbol was appearing on the screen, the shape becoming more discernible the longer the machine whirred. As far you could tell, it looked like some kind of government emblem, like an eagle with a crest in the center. It wasn’t until it had spent a solid minute loading that you were able to read the text surrounding it. “Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement... Logistics Division? What on Earth does— wait, that’s what SHIELD stands for?”

Vision nodded in a way that suggested he wasn’t overly fond of the acronym either. You were beginning to think he wasn’t so difficult to read after all, not like you thought when you’d first met, at least. It just took time, much like reading the decades-old monitor had.

“I think someone just really wanted the initials to spell out shield.” You gave a breathy laugh, more air than sound. “What’re you going to do with this old thing? Can it even get internet?”

Vision shook his head and reached for his paper from the edge of the desk. “Not that kind of computer,” he wrote. You resisted butting in as he tore off a new sheet, still not used to the pauses in conversation that resulted from the rather roundabout method of communication. “It’s wired directly into an old SHIELD system and by extension, hopefully, the Avengers emergency system.”

“Really? I would’ve guessed this place predated the Avengers.” As you spoke, Vision got the keyboard hooked up which had been stuffed into one of the desk drawers. It was missing at least a quarter of its key caps, the really chunky, old kind that made a satisfying click-clack when pressed. Apparently they’d prioritized actual computer hardware over keyboards considering there were offices at your job that still had keyboards just like it. Correction: your old job. You’d almost forgotten.

“SHIELD software was integrated with Stark tech after the Battle of New York. In theory, we should be able to put out an emergency signal on a secure Avengers server from here.” You almost hadn’t noticed Vision writing again as you zoned out a bit.

You would’ve been more excited over good news, but you’d learned over the years what happened when you got your hopes up. “So when you say in theory, I’m guessing the odds aren’t exactly...” You trailed off, unable to continue without sounding horribly pessimistic.

“It will work,” was all he wrote, a noticeable firmness in his grip as he held the pen. You didn’t say anything else but moved closer to the desk, directly by his side now. There was what could only be described as a hint of doubt in his expression before he turned back to the monitor as green text cluttered the screen.

“We can only hope so.” You let your hand brush his shoulder as you navigated back towards the door, no longer particularly caring to avoid crumpling the paper on the floor.

You weren’t sure how long it would take Vision to finish what he was doing, especially with the tech he was stuck with. You found it more than a bit ironic that possibly the most advanced machine on the planet had to use a decades-old computer to call for help. It felt weird to think of him as a machine. After what you’d been through in the past 24 hours alone, you’d begun to think of him as just another person. Well, not just another person, that wasn’t what you meant. How to put it...? You just couldn’t explain it. There was no precedent in your mind for a situation like this. Vision was a living being. As alive as anyone, maybe more so. That much you could say confidently.

Trying not to get too lost in your thoughts, you busied yourself investigating the rest of the apartment, not that there was much to find. Living room, connected kitchen, hallway with the office and stairs that led up to a bedroom and bathroom. All pretty standard. All of it looked fresh out of the 80’s. Well, maybe not fresh.

Just as you completed your lap of the place, you were interrupted by a low grumble from none other than your own stomach. That was a problem. There was definitely not food here. You had no other choice really than to shove the feeling to the back of your mind for now. You got yourself a glass of water to make do. At least the plumbing worked.

By the time Vision came back, it had been less than twenty minutes. “That was quick. Any success?” You sipped your water, ignoring the slight metallic tang it had.

Vision wrote as he crossed the room to stand opposite you from the island counter. “The beacon is active. Now someone just needs to hear it.”

Despite his lack of vocals, you sensed a definite lack of confidence in his words. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You hoped not too long. You were concerned about your food situation.

He didn’t bother writing a response. The expression on his face made it clear; he had no idea. Maybe never, if no one was out there to hear it. You only hummed a response, neither confirming nor retorting. The sound of you sipping your water seemed immensely loud in the heavy silence of the room.

“Well, what do we do now?” You were becoming anxious again. You didn’t like being forced to sit and wait. At any minute, you felt like law enforcement would start breaking the door down.

“We wait. There’s nothing else we can do.” He seemed apologetic. He wished he could give you a more concrete answer, some sort of assurance that this would all work out, but he couldn’t. Not truthfully, anyway.

It looked like you had some time to kill. You weren’t sure what all there really was to do. Still, it wasn’t all bad. At least you had company. “I wonder if there’s a better way we can communicate,” you mused, turning your mind to less dire matters.

Vision seemed to brighten up a bit as he was struck by an idea. “You don’t happen to know any ASL, do you?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. I assume you do?”

He responded by holding up his right hand in a closed fist and sort of nodded it up and down.

“I’m guessing that means... yes?” It wasn’t a far stretch. You’d actually thought about learning ASL before but never gotten around to it. There were more uses for it than people realized. Too bad work left you too busy and tired to make the time for lessons. Well now you had nothing but time.

Vision just nodded his head in the more familiar interpretation of the word. He grabbed the pen and paper again off the counter. “I could teach you some. At least the important parts, if you want.” He hesitated a split second between sentences, just a bit nervous, though the pause was nowhere near long enough for you to notice. It was barely a stutter in his programming, a single digit skipped somewhere in his code. Nothing to be concerned with.

“Yeah,” you said, maybe just slightly too enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’d be great! I— I mean, it would be useful, you know? Way more efficient than pen and paper. Uhm...” You were struggling to ask how he wanted to start when your stomach growled, providing a convenient segue into another topic. “Heh, sorry. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” You tried to pass it off as no big deal, although you really were starving. You hadn’t eaten anything since before setting Vision free. It had been well over a full day since then.

He looked surprised for a moment, which he was, before he began writing. For a genius super-computer, he could sometimes be very forgetful of the needs of his human cohorts. They were very fragile things, humans. The need for sleep and food was something Vision never had to worry about, something he realized he took for granted. Something akin to guilt began to gnaw at him when he too realized how long it had been since the escape. He should’ve brought up the matter earlier. “We need to get you food,” he wrote very matter-of-factly. It wasn’t something up for debate.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of cash on me, Vis.” You flinched at the nickname, quick to move on before he could call you out on it. It had been merely a slip of the tongue, just shortening his name for the sake of convenience. It could have been a gesture of friendship towards the android, though you weren’t sure you’d quite earned the right to call Vision a friend, even if you were fond of him. “I’ve got like 10 bucks, tops.” You pulled a few crumpled bills from your pockets to emphasize your point. You obviously couldn’t use your credit card, either. You’d seen enough movies to know that.

Vision thought a moment before coming up with an idea. “It’s not the most ethical thing to do, but I could get cash out of an ATM. It’s technically a matter of survival, after all.” He demonstrated exactly what he meant by phasing his hand through the paper as you read, something that could just as easily be done to a cash machine.

It wasn’t so much the legality of the idea that bothered you. After all, you’d stolen multiple cars. It was the matter of Vision’s safety. Not that he couldn’t protect himself but he would be spotted quite easily if he went outside. That was just a matter of fact. And if someone called the police on a strange magenta man or anything along the lines of ‘robot,’ you could pretty much guarantee trouble. “I don’t know... What if someone sees you? The last thing we want is to compromise the safe house. I can just wait awhile longer, I’ll be fine.”

Your stomach chose that moment to grumble again, completely undermining your point. Vision shot you a look that more than sufficed to communicate what he was thinking but he wrote it down anyway. “It would seem we don’t have much of a choice.”

You sighed, all but forced to agree. Although, it would be nice to get some actual food before your stomach started eating itself. “Fine,” you relented. “But we wait until it gets dark out. It’s safer that way.”

Vision wasn’t about to argue.

Memorization wasn’t really your strong suit, but you seemed to do surprisingly well with the start of your sign language lessons. It helped that your teacher was so patient.

Vision thought it would be best to start with a few simple phrases for the sake of saving paper. Common things such as ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you.’ You had the benefit of only really needing to recognize them as opposed to being able to do the signs yourself, since Vision could obviously hear you, but you took it upon yourself to mimic the gestures anyway.

It had been a few hours and your head was starting to ache but you insisted on continuing. You were certain you were doing well and you wanted Vision to be impressed. Not only could you remember how to spell your own name, you could spell his as well. The rest of the alphabet may not have stuck as much but oh well. For now, words and phrases were more important.

“That’s... someone?” You guessed as Vision held up his index finger and waved it in a sort of circle. He’d been quizzing you for a few minutes now, to which you’d done pretty well. He shook his head this time, however, and tried not to look amused by the almost comically offended look on your face. “What? Yes it is! I’m certain that means ‘someone!’” You were insistent on the fact. Vision hadn’t tried to trip you up yet but he must be this time. You tried to mimic the motion, repeating the word as if that would change anything.

He shook his head again, not bothering to hide his smile this time. He reached for your hand, raising it higher to show you that there was, in fact, a slight difference between what he was signing and what you were. For a moment, you looked almost startled, like a deer in headlights. He didn’t miss the hint of color that tinged your cheeks. His assumption was merely that you were embarrassed by your mistake, though it was an easy one to make. He switched back to paper in order to explain. “This,” he repeated his first gesture. “means ‘always’. What you signed was ‘someone.’ See the difference?”

You nodded in understanding although your attention was beginning to drift. You felt like you were cramming for an exam in a class you hadn’t been attending. You may or may not have actually had to do that before. The point was, you’d learned just about all you were going to for the day. And just in time, it seemed, as you glanced toward the curtains, no longer backlit by the afternoon sun. You’d managed to kill most of the day, between checking that the computer was still working and just generally talking with Vision. There wasn’t much else to do, not that you were complaining. You were quite enjoying the android’s company and not just because you were stuck with him. And to top it off, you’d managed to distract yourself from how hungry you were. Until now, that is.

“How about we call it a day on the lessons, hm? I’d say now’s about the best time to head outside. There’s just one thing we have to do first.” You turned and exited the room without explanation, only saying you’d be right back. You ran upstairs to the bedroom, hoping you could find what you needed. You hadn’t voiced your plan to Vision, although you saw no reason for him not to go along with it. It was a smart idea if you said so yourself. At least that’s what you told yourself as you began rifling through drawers.

Vision wasn’t sure what to think at first when you came bumbling down the stairs again with a messily folded bundle in your hands. But your intention became clear quite quickly once you’d returned, immediately holding out the clothes to him before bothering to explain.

“I hope this isn’t rude but you kind of… stand out. I just thought, maybe it’d be a good idea to disguise yourself. Just for safety. Is that okay?” You hoped there was no offense taken by the gesture. In truth, you were glad Vision was going with you and not just because of the money thing. You didn’t feel particularly safe walking the streets alone at night, especially when you didn’t know the area. But having Vision by your side made you feel nigh invincible. There was just the small issue of technically being wanted criminals.

He smiled, more to himself than anything. It was just strange, he thought, how concerned you were with his opinion. Of course he wasn’t offended. It was a smart idea. He chuckled a bit, although it was a strange action given his physical state. The motion of a laugh was there, his shoulders shuddering as any human’s would despite his lack of need to actually breathe, but there was no sound. It was one of those mannerisms that was ingrained in his programming, though he wasn’t sure quite where it came from. Not from Jarvis, certainly, since the AI had no physical form, and Ultron likely hadn’t been terribly focused on such gestures at the time of his creation. In reality, it was simply something he’d picked up on his own, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

You let out a breathy chuckle of your own as he took the clothes, glad to see he agreed with you wholeheartedly. He got dressed quickly, leaving only his face visible when he was done. Luckily, it was cold enough outside for him to get away with wearing gloves, a scarf and a hat. The clothes were a bit old-fashioned but in a professional way. The long wool coat and slacks in particular gave the impression of a scholarly type, perhaps even a professor. You couldn’t help but think it was a good look for him.

“Well don’t you look just dashing,” you teased. You’d found a coat for yourself as well, deciding your own jacket wasn’t going to be enough. You silently thanked whatever SHIELD employee set this place up for supplying a myriad of spare clothes. “Oh, one more thing.” You turned to the coat rack by the door, grabbing a scarf that had been left hanging there. “Just in case.”

You hesitated at the front door. Despite the fact that you were merely going to look for a convenience store or something similar, your anxiety spiked as though it were a dangerous mission. You could just imagine all the ways you could get caught. It was almost enough to make you stay here, slowly starving to death waiting for something to happen. Vision noticed your apprehension, however, and did the first thing that came to mind to soothe your worries. He gave you a warm smile, holding out a bent arm for you to take. He thought you might find the somewhat old-fashioned gesture funny and he was right. You laughed, taking his arm anyway. It was a nice reminder that the odds of anything bad happening were tremendously low, which you mentally repeated to yourself as you stepped outside.

Everything had gone off without a hitch. There was a small grocery store a few blocks down which you’d run into just before closing time so the store was nearly empty. Vision had waited outside near the ATM, which had provided the funds you needed. Other than the bored clerk at the store, you hadn’t seen so much as a single soul this whole trip. By the time you and Vision were walking back, burdened by just a few days worth of groceries (which would ideally be more than enough), your previous worries had all but melted away.

You only wished the weather matched the feeling. Nothing was melting in this cold. In fact, a few snowflakes had begun to fall. They were almost mesmerizing under the blueish haze of the streetlights, whipped into a frenzy by the faintest of gusts. The sight wasn’t enough of a distraction, however. You couldn’t help it when a shiver wracked your body, your coat not doing nearly enough to prevent it. Vision noticed this, however, and stopped you both in your tracks.

He was quick to reach for the paper and pen in his coat pocket, a look on his face of more concern than you thought necessary. It was only a little chill. “Are you cold?” The question wasn’t particularly necessary, the answer being obvious. Still, it was polite to ask.

You tried to shrug it off, noticeably tensing to suppress a second shiver. “I’m fine. Let’s just hurry back.” You turned to keep walking, knowing there was still a decent walk ahead but he stopped you, putting a hand on your arm for the briefest of seconds. He just looked at you a moment, seeming to forget about his paper. You caught the faintest hint of conflict in his expression, though you didn’t know why. “What is it, Vision?”

Realizing he’d made you worry, Vision seemed to snap back to his senses. He gave you a reassuring smile and reached for his scarf, undoing it quickly. You were facing him, standing close enough to see the circuitry in his eyes. He paused again, however, debating his next action. For a being that didn’t have nerves, he sure felt nervous and didn’t fully understand why. He moved at a pace far slower than he was used to, hesitantly wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. His touch was light as a feather as if he were afraid to touch you. You could do nothing but watch him, lost in the details of his eyes and face as your grip on the grocery bags began to loosen involuntarily. There was a moment where neither of you moved, his hands still lingering on the loose fabric of the scarf.

Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture, mind racing to find a logical conclusion that didn’t concern such things as the vague and confusing emotions that spiked in your chest just then. It was cold, so Vision gave you his scarf. Your hands were full, so he put it on for you. But what you couldn’t answer was why he lingered the way that he did and more importantly, why your chest began to feel tight in a way that wasn’t as unpleasant as you’d think. The most sensible reason you could think of was that he was simply a gentleman, and perhaps a little unfamiliar with personal boundaries. That was the only possibility you had the strength to consider. Anything else would open doors you were afraid to even imagine.

Footsteps scraping heavily against the pavement cut the tender, if rather nerve-filled moment short. You turned toward the sound, though Vision remained facing slightly away, bowing his head somewhat in an attempt to conceal himself. You froze when a figure emerged from the alleyway; a heavy-set man whose posture listed to one side, most likely from some kind of injury. His clothes were noticeably old and ragged, most definitely not warm enough for this weather. You would’ve asked him if he needed help were it not for the knife he brandished at you.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said, his voice wavering. Funny, you were just about to say the same thing. Clearly, he wouldn’t be doing this unless he was desperate and in a bad situation. Unfortunately, you weren’t much better off. “I saw you, I know you have cash. Just hand it over and no one gets hurts.”

Under normal circumstances you would’ve complied but you’d used up pretty much all the cash you got and you couldn’t risk giving him your wallet. If your ID found its way into police hands there’d be government agents swarming this place before you ever got the chance to bail. “We don’t have any money left, I swear. Please, just walk away.” You moved slowly, setting the grocery bags on the ground and raising your hands in surrender without making any sudden movements that could set him off. You weren’t as afraid as you probably should’ve been, choosing to try and reason with the man rather than flee, which would probably be the smarter option.

The man stepped closer to you, his grip on the knife visibly tightening. He was nearly within arm’s reach now which wasn’t ideal but you held your ground. Vision caught the man’s movement out of the corner of his eye, his hand reflexively grabbing at your arm protectively. The man furrowed his brow, glancing between the two of you in confusion. At this distance, even without Vision facing him, he could almost definitely tell something was strange here. Having given you his scarf, the only things covering Vision’s face were a hat and upturned coat collar. You spoke up again, drawing the man’s attention before he could get too close of a look. “This doesn’t have to get messy. Please… ”

You weren’t sure exactly how long the three of you stood there, time frozen around you. The only things that moved were the snowflakes that had grown more frequent in the past couple minutes. The man finally shifted, albeit barely, one foot scraping harshly against the concrete as he braced himself. He glanced between you and Vision again, jaw clenched tightly. “I ain’t walking away empty-handed. I can’t. Just gimme your damn wallet.”

Vision tugged gently on your arm. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say, either trying to pull you closer to him or signal that you should run. You didn’t think running was a good idea. You feared Vision’s injuries acting up again and you didn’t want to test your own speed either. You turned back to the man, desperately pleading at this point. “I can’t …”

“Then I’ll just have to take it from you.” He didn’t give you another chance to argue, immediately lunging at you haphazardly. He couldn’t even get close to hitting you, however, as Vision’s reflexes were far superior to the man’s. The android grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully to the side and forcing him to drop the knife. The man yelped and threw a punch at Vision, who dodged it easily. The man didn’t seem to understand just how drastically outmatched he was, not even now that he had a clear view of Vision’s face. Whatever was going through his head, he still seemed to think fighting was his best option. He took another swing at Vision who, up until this point, had no intention of fighting back. But he was left with few other options. He pushed back against his attacker, sending the man sprawling to the ground with a painful ‘smack’ as he hit the pavement. There was genuine fear in his eyes when he looked back up at the two of you.

“Vis, we gotta go.” It was you holding his arm now, pleading with him to leave. He nodded quickly, completely in agreement. The two of you paused only long enough to scoop up the dropped grocery bags before making your escape. The man didn’t dare follow you as you disappeared down a side street, desperate to avoid any more prying eyes. This was the exact sort of thing you’d been afraid of when you’d left the safe house. You could only hope the man kept his mouth shut about what he’d witnessed tonight but it seemed luck may not be on your side.

A/N: I want to mention that I don’t personally know much ASL and had to rely on videos, etc. so if anything at all is wrong, I apologize. Feel free to call me out.

#vision/reader #vision x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here.

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms.

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES.

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby dark

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

Text

Jason//don’t blame me for falling

Request: Can I request a jason/reader where Polly is jealous of the reader because she's dating Jason and she tries to break up both of them up but the bulldogs and the vixens confront Polly and tells her to back off because the reader and jason are end game and can the reader also be co-captain and Jason Captain of the bulldogs and can the reader being bestfriends with Cheryl! And thank you btw I love your writing!!!!

hey! i hope everyone is having a good day!! i don’t really get/have a lot of jason imagines so this was super fun to write. title is from harry styles’ ‘to be so lonely’. i hope you like this!! k, byeeee

Polly Cooper has done some things in her time. She’s lied, stole and caused more drama than you can wave a commentary youtube channel at.

But this time, she’s gone too far.

You knew she was jealous when you and Jason started dating. It was understandable, they’d dated and he’d essentially broken up with her for you. But thats as far as it went. There was never any cheating or lying involved, and Polly was your friend...sort of.

But everyone could see that Jason was miserable with Polly, whether that was her fault or not, nobody knew. But when your friends saw you and Jason talking to each in the corridor. When Cheryl would invite you over to hang out after school and she’d find you with Jason instead of getting a snack like you’d told her, everyone knew it was inevitable.

The captain of the football team and the co-captian of the cheerleaders...it’s just destiny. Especially if they’d grown up together. Especially if your best friend was his sister. It was bound to happen eventually, it was just a matter of waiting for the timing to be right.

And eventually, after years of waiting and pining and staring longingly at each other...it happened.

You went to a party together like you always did on a Friday night. You snuck both Cheryl and Jason out of their house with a little help from the Vixens and Bulldogs and then you were off to Hayley Grey’s party!

There, the two of you drank a little too much (it was for a good reason, Jason was upset about his very messy breakup and the fact that Polly now hated him and you, even though you weren’t even together then) and by the end of the night you’d played a very drunk game of truth or dare, made out in the bath tub, confessed your undying love for each other and then fell asleep in the back garden.

You were woken up the next day by Hayley’s dad shouting at the two of you to get off the freshly mowed lawn otherwise he’d call the police and the neighbourhood watch. You’d grabbed Cheryl, ran past Hayley being scolded by her mom and went back to the Blossom’s.

Once you got there, Mr and Mrs Blossom were stood outside the gate with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces, and stood next to them was your parents, also looking more than annoyed.

The three of you had been grounded for three weeks, but it was worth it.

Without that party you and Jason would still just be friends, so you silently thanked Hayley Thomson and her parents, while you and Jason stood beside each other, your fingers still intertwined as your parents shouted at the three of you.

And the rest as they say, is history...

Or at least thats what you thought they’d say.

But this is real life and nothing is ever that easy.

Because yes, for the rest of the weekend you were happy. Texting each other in secret with hidden phones the two of you had gotten ages ago so you could continue to talk to each other.

You told your friends, he told his and they were so happy.

Cheryl the most because it meant she didn’t have to listen to you mope about Jason whenever he was with someone that wasn’t you, or listen to Jason try to subtly mention you in conversations that related to you in no way, and failing.

Everyone was happy.

But by Monday morning, word had gotten around and one person wasn’t happy.

Polly Cooper. The older and arguably more annoying sister of the Cooper children. She’s always been a little wary of you, you did hang around with her boyfriend a lot and she’d heard the bets about how long it would take for you to get together.

But when Jason broke up with her, that was it.

Even though you two didn’t get together until like three weeks after they broke up so you don’t really know what she was complaining about.

She had a list on enemies and you were number one, Jason followed closely at two and then Cheryl was three, just because.

Her hatred started off slow. She would glare at the two of you whenever you walked past her. Then there were the whispers, laughter and of course the name calling, which then bizarrely evolved to middle school-esque notes passed during class that made you roll your eyes and Jason laugh at the crude drawings.

“Do I really look like this?” He asks, holding up the latest note that has been shoved through his locker.

“Hmm.” You think for a few seconds, glancing between him and the paper. The hair’s the same colour, but apart from that, “nah.” You shrug and he nods, looking at the drawing one last time before throwing it in the bin. “You’re much more attractive.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips as you lean over the lunch table to kiss him.

“Slut!” Polly shouts from across the cafeteria and you pull away reluctantly, both you and Jason sharing a look of annoyance.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Cheryl asks from beside you, too busy staring at her phone to actually pay attention to anything around her.

“Its fine.” You say. “I’ve got it.” You turn in the direction of Polly and flip her off, a sweet smile adorning your lips and your friends laugh loudly. “This is the 21st century, there’s no such things as sluts Polly.”

“You’re the exception to that.” She replies.

“Well done Polly. That was actually really good for you.” You compliment. “You keep working on your insults and come back to me when you have something better than slut. Oh and how did you get in my boyfriends house to put your bra in his bed? We’ve spent hours trying to figure it out and nothing.” The room goes quiet at your revelation and Polly glances at the table, trying to regain her composure.

She looks back up a few seconds later and the usual smug grin settles on her face.

“I must have forgot it the last time I was there, which was what Jason? Last night?”

“I don’t think so Polly because I think I would have noticed you there.” You reply and hushed gasps and giggles echo around the room.

She shuts up after that, thankfully letting you eat the rest of your lunch in peace.

You know it won’t last, but you’ll take the small victory.

----

“Did she seriously put a bra in his room?” Cheryl asks as the two of you walk out of the changing rooms and towards the front doors.

Vixen and Bulldog practice both finish at the same time so the two of you wait by the doors for Jason and the rest of your friends.

“Yep.” You reply, popping the p and she looks at your amused. “I genuinely don’t know how she’s getting in there. Jason thinks she never left, she’d living in the walls.” You giggle.

“But why though? I would never leave any of my bras in anybody’s room. They’re all too pretty.”

“I agree.” You nod. “I dunno. She’s been trying to break up us since we got together. She’s spread rumors about both of us, left bras in his bed and faked texts between the two of them.”

“Well thats annoying.”

“If anything it’s just sad.” You sigh. “I kind of feel sorry for her.”

“What? Why?”

“I dunno. I mean, her boyfriend did break up with her and then start dating his best friend three weeks later. He was miserable but it still doesn’t make it any less upsetting for her.” You frown as you speak.

Despite being together for over 5 months now, you still can’t help shake the feeling that maybe you’re in the wrong. You don’t want to upset anyone, it just so happens that you’ve been in love with Jason Blossom for as long as you can remember.

“Well, you’re a bigger person than me.” Cheryl shrugs, looking around the empty corridor. “Where the hell is he, this bag is heavy.” She complains and unlocks her phone, sending another text to Jason and huffing loudly when she doesn’t get an answer immediately.

You laugh and go to rearrange your bag on your shoulder when your realize that you’ve forgotten it.

“Shit, Cheryl. I left my bag.” You say and she rolls her eyes.

“How do you forget a bag that big?” She asks and you shrug. “Go on, I’ll wait.”

“Thank you Cheryl, you’re the best.” You smile sweetly before rushing back towards the gym and changing rooms.

All the way back you feel like you’re being watched.

It’s not an intense feeling, its just makes you a little bit more aware of your surroundings, a little bit more jumpy when one of the janitors drops a mop on the floor. You look over your shoulder a little more often when you searching for your bag, and when you finally find it you walk a little quicker out of the room and into the corridor.

You start the slow walk back to the front of the school, deciding to keep Cheryl waiting for a bit longer. And it’ll be even better if Jason is stood with her, both of the Blossom’s annoyed.

But just when you think you’re safe, Polly appears and you can already feel the headache starting. You force a smile and stare straight at her, trying to feign niceness.

“Hi Polly. Great practice wasn’t it?” Thats right, she follows you literally everywhere, even to practice, despite not listening to anything you or Cheryl says.

“Stay away from my boyfriend.” She replies and your eyes widen, now fully invested in wherever this conversation is going.

“Excuse me?” You blink.

“You heard me. Stay away from my boyfriend.” She moves closer to you, effectively backing you into a corner and the only things thats keeping space between the two of you is your gym bag...of course it is.

“Polly, he isn’t your boyfriend anymore. He broke up with you, remember?”

“Remember?” She laughs bitterly. “How could I forget. You stole the love of my life away from me.”

“I di-”

“You’ve been planning this haven’t you. I mean I get it. Your friends with him for ages and then it slowly develops into something more. I understand that. You know, he always told me I had nothing to be worried about whenever I asked about you. That was a lie wasn’t it? Because here you are, happy and in love while I’m alone. But remember this. He chose me first. He was your friend for years and he never wanted you until now.”

“Look Polly, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to shut up, and listen.” She says, backing you further and further into the corner.

“Okay.”

“I will get Jason back. Slowly but surely, he’ll realize he made a mistake and that he’s supposed to be with me. You’re only supposed to be his friend, nothing mor-”

“Is everything okay?” A voice asks.

Polly pauses and both of you move to look who the voice belongs to. A small smile twitches at your lips when you see your friends from both the Vixen’s and the Bulldogs.

“Yeah.” Polly says through gritted teeth. “Everything’s fine, isn’t it Y/n?”

“Are you sure? Because from where we’re standing, it looks like you were threatening Y/n. Doesn’t it?” Juliet continues and looks around at the rest of the group. They all nod, glaring at Polly.

“Jason’s chosen who he wants. Do everyone a favour and back off.” Cheryl says in a cold tone.

The group of Vixen’s and Bulldogs part to let her through, and as soon as she’s at the front, she’s backing Polly into the wall. You quickly side-step to avoid being squashed and watch as Cheryl continues to subtly threaten Polly.

Its not how you would prefer to tackle the issue, but she ignores everything else, so maybe Cheryl will do the trick. You don’t know for sure, what you do know is you’re very thankful to have friends that find you when your in trouble, even if they do want to go home.

Cheryl finishes her threats with a very sweet ‘got that?’, and even you’re a little scared as to how she can change her tone and entire demeanor so quickly. She then grabs your hands and pulls, the two of you walking towards the front doors, your friends following all talking loudly.

You see Jason stood by the door, pacing up and down while he frantically texts. Once he hears noise he looks up and the worried expression disappears as soon as he sees you.

“You okay?” Jason asks, his eyebrows kitting together as he takes in your shaken appearance.

“I am now.” You reply, sending him a small, but relieved smile. He nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you.

He knows when you’re lying, he knows everything about you, but he also knows you’ll tell him later if you want to. He knows right now he just needs to see you smile properly.

“Pops?” He suggests and slings an arm over your shoulder, the two of you set off in a slow walk out of the doors and towards his car. “We can split a milkshake.”

“Why can’t I get my own?” You ask, feigning annoyance.

“Because in all our years of friendship, when have you ever gotten your own milkshake?” He replies.

“Never.” You sigh.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Just because we’re together doesn’t change anything.”

“Thats fine by me.” You grin.

#jason blossom #jason blossom imagine #jason blossom x reader #jason blossom x you #jason blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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lovelylogans · 3 years

Text

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

see other chapters, notes, and warnings here!

chapter five: obligate mutualism

obligate mutualism: a type of mutualism in which the species involved are in close proximity and interdependent with one another in a way that one cannot survive without the other.

REMY

Emile appears in Nice, squealing and jumping up and down.

“Hey!” Remy says warmly, hugging him; Emile’s joy is so infectious that Remy can feel Emile’s smile stretching across his own face. “What’s got you so happy?”

“They let him off!” Emile says exuberantly. “Rem, they let Remus off! Jay proved that they don’t have anything on him so Remus is free to go!”

“Oh my God, that’s amazing!” Remy says, then, “wait, what was Remus under arrest for?”

“Oh, murder,” Emile says, waving that off, “but Jay proved that Remus was just joking when he was threatening him, so Remus got off! Oh my goodness, he’s out! He can finish his latest book! He can stay with Roman! Yay!”

“Yay,” Remy cheers weakly, wondering what the hell kind of cluster his boyfriend has birthed.

ROMAN

Roman drops a substantial amount of money on champagne on their drive home.

Remus rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning a little bit, so Roman assumes that he’s happy about it. Or maybe he’s plotting how to ruin Roman’s possessions with champagne. One of the two.

Roman opens the door, balancing the champagne bottles in his arms, feeling a lot like he’s forgotten something. He drops his keys into the bowl on the entry table.

“Hey, Roman! Ooh, champagne—on a Tuesday? What, did you land a role with Guillermo del Toro?”

“God, I wish,” Roman says wistfully, then, oh shit I forgot to tell Sasha.

Sasha blinks a couple times before she stands up.

“Um, hey, sweetie,” she says. “Who’s your friend?”

Remus snorts loudly at the fake endearment.

“Um, Sasha,” Roman says, shutting the door behind him. “This is my twin brother, Remus.”

Sasha gawks at Remus. “I didn’t know you had a brother!”

Remus socks him in the shoulder so hard that Roman nearly drops the heavy glass champagne bottle. “You bitch, you said you’d tell her!”

“I forgot?” Roman says weakly.

“I have no idea how you put up with him,” Remus tells Sasha. “Is the convenience of a beard worth hearing him sing Disney in the shower?”

Sasha, looking a little startled that Remus knows the full truth of the deal Roman and her made, rebuts with, “

“Where have you been before this, anyway?” Sasha says.

“Oh, jail,” Remus says brightly.

“Oh, okay,” Sasha says, and, with a level of casualness that frankly stuns Roman, moves on to, “So, I’ve had a gripe with one of your books for forever.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t know you read his books,” Roman says, mystified.

“Yeah, I started back when I was doing that slasher pic a year and a half ago, you remember that?” Sasha says. “Helped me pick up on the internal life of a stalking victim. Anyways, the first book I read of yours—”

“Behind the Bushes, I’m guessing,” Remus says.

“Yeah!” Sasha says. “I super love that you subverted the expectations and the victim was the one that slaughtered the stalker, but I do think you could have carried through a threat she was considering through the book.”

“Which threat is that?” Remus says. “I write a lot of threats.”

“She should have castrated him,” Sasha says. “Duh.”

Remus looks at Sasha how an inventor might lovingly look at a device that finally works.

Roman groans, because he should have expected this outcome, and feared it.

“Oh, no,” Roman says. “You’re going to be friends.”

Sasha and Remus give him identical grins full of mischief.

LOGAN

Virgil appears sitting on the counter. Logan isn’t even fazed by the surprise of seeing him, although his heart rate does pick up a little.

Over the past few days, this is the way it’s been, between them; Logan suddenly finding himself looking over Virgil’s shoulder at his dinner when he’d meant to be looking at data charts, Virgil finding himself with handfuls of flowers in the face of the barren landscape of the Antarctic.

Even when he isn’t actively visiting, Logan still feels that pull, his mind turning to Virgil at the oddest times of day. He tastes coffee when he should be drinking tea. He finds himself idly doodling South African native flora during dinner. He thinks Virgil might like this when he tries to read a novel during his relaxation times and wonders how best to explain the minutiae of his science to another scientist.

“Hey, Logan,” Virgil says, and Logan feels that thrill in his stomach again.

“Hello, Virgil,” he says, after making a show of turning on his Bluetooth, for the benefit of the other scientists in the lab. “How have you been today?”

“Pretty okay,” Virgil says. “My mom said she was gonna see if she could find any of the other sensates down here that my grandma knew, so I might be able to hear more about her cluster.”

“Excellent!” Logan says. “Be sure to ask if they’re connected to the Archipelago?”

“You and that Neolithic Google,” Virgil says with a lopsided smile. “But, yeah. I’m being careful about it; I know not every sensate’s a great person to connect to. Ergo mom as a mediary.”

“A wise plan,” Logan says. “It does seem like a disadvantage that all that’s needed for a lifetime of connection is a singular instance of eye contact.”

“Maybe I should invest in a really good pair of blocking glasses,” Virgil teases, and he reaches over. Logan hadn’t even noticed they’d been slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Virgil gently nudges Logan’s glasses back into place, his finger resting on Logan’s nose, and Logan’s mouth goes abruptly dry.

This might be the first time one of us has touched the other.

Logan tries to swallow, coughs a little bit, and says, “It could potentially be a wise investment, yes. I’d—um. I’d have to do more research into what exactly would suffice to block eye contact.”

“Yeah,” Virgil rasps, and he clears his throat, too. “Yeah, that’s probably, uh. That’s probably a good thing to ask Emile about.”

“Yeah,” Logan says, and he fruitlessly tries to refocus his attention on his research. He’s much too aware of Virgil’s eyes on him.

JANUS

Janus turns the phone over and over in his hands.

One last job, two more jobs, three more jobs…

He remembers getting arrested for the first time. He remembers the lawyer who got Janus out of it, pro bono, and managed to keep it off his record by the skin of his teeth.

He thinks about representing Remus in the courtroom; he thinks about the state of his accounts; he thinks about how the threat of jail that Remus would have faced was what spooked him into pursuing a law degree in the first place.

He thinks about Remus and Roman, side-by-side in the courtroom; he thinks about Roman declaring that he doesn’t care if Remus killed him or not.

Roman is an idiot. An idealistic, loyal, altruistic idiot.

Janus is many things. He is not an idiot.

Key, scowling, sits across from him at the restaurant. Sriracha aioli, fried cod. Janus has been here a thousand times before.

He proffers the little box; Key takes it.

“This is my last job,” Janus says.

Key snorts. “I’ve heard that before.”

Janus hands him the burner phone, too.

“Oh shit,” Key says. “For real?”

“For real,” Janus reaffirms.

“Shit,” Key mutters, sitting back against the booth. They stay quiet. A waitress drops off their meal. They stay quiet for a bit longer.

“Don’t suppose I can lure you back with money,” Key tries to joke.

“No,” Janus says.

Key heaves a sigh. “All right. Well.”

He moves for his wallet, and Janus shakes his head.

“I’ve got lunch,” he says. “I can appreciate that I’m leaving you in the lurch for a computer guy.”

Key snorts and shakes his head disbelievingly. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Janus chews the inside of his lip. “If you ever need a lawyer…”

“Yeah,” Key says. He stands. “Yeah.”

Key leaves. Janus stays.

He’s been here a thousand times before. And yet.

PATTON

There’s a hint of spice in his mouth, and Patton rolls over in his bed to see Janus.

“I keep showing up when I should be sleeping, I think,” Patton muses, before he reaches out and takes one of the chips that Janus is neglecting.

Janus snorts. “Roman was stealing those the last time I was here. Perhaps you all keep showing up to eat my food.”

Patton smiles, dipping the chip in the sauce. “Maybe,” he says.

Janus exhales loudly, before he says, “I have a brother too.”

“Oh?” Patton asks, intrigued, and for a moment they’re in Patton’s bed, Patton lying down with his head propped up on his arm, Janus sitting uncomfortably at the corner.

“Unlike Remus, mine did it. Does it,” Janus amends.

Patton frowns. “That’s tough.”

“I did too, until,” Janus checks his watch. “Three minutes ago.”

Patton’s eyebrows lift in surprise, but that’s the only sign he shows.

“It’s the reason I became a lawyer,” Janus says.

“Oh,” Patton says because that—that clicks. He doesn’t know Janus very well—he will, surely, but he doesn’t yet—but taking on the good-quality job of lawyer for self-protective reasons makes a lot of sense. Janus kind of seems like the type of person to not really want to rely on other people.

“So, I don’t,” Janus says, and he sighs again. “I’ve been chasing down just one more job for years and years, and now…”

“Now, you’re done, and you don’t really know what to do with yourself?” Patton asks sympathetically.

Janus nods and he drinks some of his Ribena. The fizz of blackcurrant condensation pops in Patton’s mouth.

“Can I offer some advice?” Patton says. “You can do whatever you want with it.”

Janus scoffs a little, but he gestures for Patton to go ahead.

Patton takes another chip. “There are a lot of other people who need a lawyer’s help to stay out of jail. Not just sets of brothers.”

He dips the chip, takes a bite, and is back in bed right as a thoughtful look dawns on Janus’s face.

REMUS

Roman’s fake girlfriend is delightful.

They spend almost the entirety of dinner talking about their favorite horror movies—Sasha is quite the aspiring scream queen in her career, so it makes sense that she’s studied the greats—to a point where Roman puts his hands over his ears and went “I can’t hear you, lalalalalalaLALALALALALALA—”

Truly excellent. Especially when Roman had screeched at the top of his lungs when Sasha had gone into an in-depth side tangent about the verity of the special effects of slitting throats in movies.

And now—

“Ooh, that was good!” Remus says eagerly, pointing at the Sasha in the little screen as she gets stabbed.

“Right?!” Sasha says, and they ooh! in unison as the movie gets increasingly bloodier.

“I hate you both,” Roman grouches from where he’s slouched between them, one hand covering his eyes.

Sasha ruffles his hair. “Go ahead and break up with me, then, I’m sure the press will get us both booked like crazy.”

Roman grumbles to himself, and Remus grins at Sasha over Roman’s head.

“If any of my shit gets adapted into movies, I’m absolutely gonna make sure you get cast into a leading role.”

Sasha grins back. “You’re the best fake brother-in-law I could ask for.”

⁂

Sasha is flopped out on the couch, asleep, as the credits of the movie roll in the background.

“Where is your nearest sharpie,” Remus asks, and Roman rolls his eyes, pulling Remus to his feet.

“Leave her alone, Freak-a Kahlo. I’ve got a spot set up for you to sleep.”

“But,” Remus whines, images of lewd drawings dancing in his head, but he allows Roman to pull him away anyway.

Roman has got a little cot set up for him in his room; it’s like they’re ten again, on a trip to see their abuela, except Remus can’t tackle him and wrestle him to the ground for the honor of sleeping on the bed.

Well, he could, but considering Roman posted Remus’s bail, he figures that roman could be allowed to sleep in his own bed.

All the same, it does give Remus a strange sense of deja vu of their (admittedly rare) family vacations; Roman brushes his teeth and does his extensive skincare routine in the bathroom first, then he cajoles Remus into handling his hygiene, please, they’re living together in the same room, eating soap didn’t exactly work to make Remus smell like a spring rose. To which Remus would usually rebut good, he doesn’t want to smell like a spring rose, he wants to smell like sewage, to which Roman goes ugh, how are we twins, how did two people so catastrophically different come out of the same womb, at the same time, to which Remus says it’s payback for stealing my dick in utero, to which Roman says that doesn’t even make any sense, it’s not like I have two, to which Remus says—

It’s a whole familiar argument, anyway. But Remus does at least dunk his head into Roman’s bathtub to get his hair sopping wet and swish around some mouthwash.

They’re both tucked into their blankets, and Remus is staring at the ceiling, wondering at the best ways to ruin Roman’s fancy linens. He thinks Roman’s fallen asleep until his voice pipes up.

“I’m glad you’re not rotting in jail.”

Remus ugly-snorts. “Yeah, I guess I am too.”

“Thanks to our weird psychic lawyer, anyway.”

“And your fuck-off big actor money,” Remus reminds him, rolling over to face him. The room is so dark that he can barely see the outline of Roman’s face.

“Yeah, honestly, bribing the cops was going to be my next plan if you didn’t show up,” Roman says sleepily.

Remus grins at Roman in the dark. “I’ve been a fantastic influence on you.”

“Incorrect,” Roman grumbles.

“You’ll be watching slashers with Sasha and me in no time.”

“Ugh, I hope not,” Roman says.

“They’re inspiring!”

“Yeah, to you, Mr. Big Horror Novelist.”

“You know what else is big—”

“Ew! Ew ew ew, I know I set it up, but ew. No.”

“...This—”

“Remus, I’m kicking you out, I swear to God.”

“No, you’re not,” Remus sing-songs, “You were gonna bribe the cops, I’m holding this over your head forever.”

“I didn’t actually bribe the cops.”

“Yeah, but you were gonna,” Remus says. “Funnily enough, that seemed like the biggest case the cops had against me, too. That I was gonna.”

“I know you’re a horror writer, but I hope you don’t write about Miguel,” Roman says. “Might look a bit too If I Did It to the public.”

“Course not,” Remus says, his eyes slipping shut.

“Good.”

“I’m going to be writing a book about murdering the cops.”

“Oh, much better,” Roman sighs.

VIRGIL

Virgil spits out his toothpaste into the sink and looks up into the mirror to see Logan in his reflection, his glasses off, a toothbrush in hand.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Virgil quips.

The Logan in his reflection smiles at him awkwardly around his toothbrush, blushes, then redirects his attention to finishing off brushing his teeth as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Virgil uses that time to wash his face; Logan follows not long after. Virgil gets a whiff of the facewash Logan is using; it smells rather nice, something floral.

They do their respective routines in companionable quiet; Logan, waking up for the day, and Virgil, about to go to sleep.

“What’s on your agenda for the day?” Virgil asks, moisturizing his face.

“Research, research, and more research,” Logan says dryly, rubbing sunscreen onto his face. Their hands move in unison; moving in small circles on each cheek, up to the forehead, down the nose, the chin, down the neck. Mirror images, if not for their distinct physical differences.

“Probably should’ve guessed that,” Virgil says, rubbing the excess moisturizer into his forearms.

“Oh, you missed—”

And suddenly, Logan is not just in his mirror, but in his bathroom, reaching out a hand to smooth some more moisturizer into his skin.

“Right here,” Logan says softly, his fingers gentle on Virgil’s cheekbone. Virgil barely even breathes as Logan smooths away the smear of moisturizer.

“There,” Logan murmurs, but he’s still cradling Virgil’s face.

“Thanks,” Virgil rasps.

Logan smiles at him, just a little. “You missed right there when we first met, too.”

“Did I really?” Virgil asks. He can barely focus on anything else except the cool smoothness of Logan’s hand.

“Mhm,” Logan says. “There I was, thinking I was going crazy, and there was this African man planting a jacaranda tree into the tile, with a smear of sunscreen on his face…”

“And I had this note-taking Pole talking to me about preferring if I were a hallucination,” Virgil says. “Telling me you’d ignore me if you saw me again.”

“And then I immediately started questioning you,” Logan says, smiling. “And…”

He trails off. His hand is still on Virgil’s face. Virgil is standing so stock-still he could probably turn into a scarecrow, if only for the virtue of keeping Logan’s hand on him.

“And then I kept feeling this pull,” Logan continues quietly, looking Virgil in the eyes. He isn’t wearing his glasses; there is nothing between Virgil and those bright blue, captivating eyes. “This pull to come to you.”

“Me too,” Virgil says softly.

Logan licks his lips. He says, softly, “I do wonder why it is us, that keep feeling this pull to each other.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Logan affirms quietly. “Maybe there’s that call to those similar that we theorized about, that day. Maybe that’s what fuels this connection. Whenever I learned something new, I flashed to you. Always to you. I’m not sure if we’ll ever find out why. Perhaps there’s a level of…”

A level of what, Virgil doesn’t know, because he leans in and kisses Logan.

Logan freezes, and, with anyone else, Virgil would panic and pull back, thinking he’d been presumptuous, but he abruptly feels a thrill in his stomach and a yes in hid mind that may as well be in Logan’s voice, and Virgil’s shoulders relax at the presence of it, of that pull between them finally being eased.

Virgil wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, and Logan’s arms twine around Virgil’s neck, and they kiss, continents and oceans apart, able to taste the minty toothpaste on each other’s breath.

#my fic #my fanfic

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years

Text

Thin Ice Pt6 || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N gets some advice from a friendly face and decides she needs to make things right.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: I’ll be real, the reason this took so long was because of everything going on in the news about the virus. Hearing about so many people dying from the virus and other Asian Americans being attacked because of their race isn’t the best inspiration for writing about a romantic skiing trip. Nonetheless, I pulled myself together and finished this. Thank you for being patient and I want all of you guys to please stay safe and stay inside during these difficult times.

Warning: None except a steamy kiss

Part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || to be continued

You wanted nothing more than to just pack up all of your things and fly back to Queens to escape all this drama. It was exhausting fighting and yelling at someone you cared about but you couldn’t help yourself. You had never been that upset before and you hated the feeling.

As much as you wanted to go back home, deep down you knew that you wanted to stay. You had been saving up for this trip since you even joined the team and just because you went back to New York didn’t mean your troubles wouldn’t follow you days later when Brad and Peter came back.

You just needed to clear your head and at the time, the best place to do it was to go to Edgewater Cafe. The same hot cocoa spot you had taken Peter when you both proposed a friendship.

Even though it was just a few days ago, you felt like so much had happened in that short time span.

After you picked up your drink, you gazed over at the same couch Peter and you had sat just days prior.

You knew you could’ve sat anywhere else since there was so much attached to it but then you thought at the end of the day, it’s just a couch. If you wanted to try and move on from feeling mad, you needed to get over yourself.

You sat down on the side you were on previously and shifted awkwardly in your seat.

Now that time had passed, you thought heavily on what had just happened, even though you promised you would think about anything else.

You knew Peter was only trying to help but that didn’t stop you from being angry at him. While Brad definitely deserved that punch, it still felt wrong coming from somebody else.

It was the same effect of it being okay when you and your brother called each other names but if anyone else did it, you would throw hands. You didn’t condone violence and you regret fighting Brad but at the same time, he did a shitty thing.

Just because you two were friends for as long as you could remember doesn’t mean you can just easily forgive him and forget the kiss never happened.

“ Penny for your thoughts?”

You looked up and out of all the people you thought would come up to you, you never expected it to be him.

“ Mr. Harrington? I didn’t think I would see you here.” You said as he sat down across from you in a leather chair that was double his size.

You were close with most of your teachers but Mr. Harrington was always an oddball. Besides sharing the same fear of getting killed by your doppelgangers and a love for science, you two had nothing else in common.

“ I needed some peace and quiet. Believe it or not I just ran into my ex-wife…..you know, the one-”

“ That pretended to blip, yeah,” You said awkwardly as Mr. Harrington looked out the window, completely zoned out,” are you uh, okay?”

He nodded but he didn’t even look at you,” Love isn’t what it’s cracked out to be kiddo. One day, you’re walking down the aisle to a cover of Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream and the next, your wife leaves you for her hiking instructor.”

You looked at him and until this moment, you had never truly felt pity for a person. As awkward as the conversation was, you felt obligated to stay.

“ I want to suffer so that I may love,” You quoted as he finally turned to you,” Dostoevsky. It takes time to learn how to love and how to get over it….plus she sounded like a real bitc- jerk.”

“ Dostoevsky doesn’t live during a time where Tindr exists,” Mr. Harrington said plainly as you shifted awkwardly in your seat,” enjoy being young and in love. Make mistakes now so that way you don’t make those same mistakes when you’re older.”

You thought back to Peter and sure, you weren’t madly in love with him but he made you happy. You knew relationships were hard, you weren’t that naive. At the same time, you thought that maybe you and Peter were the exception.

You couldn’t be with someone who didn’t trust you or your feelings and Peter was one of those people. If it was already rocky now, why would you assume it would get better?

Because you really like him.

You cleared your throat before tapping your fingers against your cup,” Even if a certain mistake ruins everything?”

Mr. Harrington almost snapped out of his daze and turned to you, laughing,” Okay, is someone going to die?”

You hesitated as you thought about Peter knocking out Brad cold but shook your head,” I might lose one of my best friends that I really care about because of something I really want but the thing that I want could either ruin everything or be the right choice.”

“ If they were really your friend, they would want you to be happy,” Mr. Harrington said as if it was obvious,” and if you were really their friend, you both wouldn’t let a stupid fight get in the way.”

“ But what if the friend really messed up? Like they did something to break your trust in them and it would change everything?” You countered as Mr. Harrington took a sip of his drink, chuckling.

“ Then don’t be friends with them. Forget that they ever existed.”

“ But I still want to be friends with them!”

Mr. Harrington nodded and pointed towards you as if a lightbulb shined above his head,” There it is! I offered you a choice and you decided against it so when I offered you an alternative choice that contradicts the first, you still decided against it. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, have both. You clearly still want to be friends with this said person but you just need to build up that trust again, right?”

You leaned back into the couch and looked at your drink as you thought about your relationship with Brad.

Mr. Harrington was right, you didn’t want to get rid of Brad but it would take time to make things work. You nodded as Mr. Harrington gave a small smile.

“ Again, you’re young and you’ll make mistakes that’s what life is all about. As long as this choice doesn’t kill you or kill others, everything will work itself out.”

“ Thanks, Mr. Harrington, I think I know what I need to do now,” You said as you gathered your things and stood up,” also, you should ask out Ms. Fletcher when we get back. She’s been wanting to talk to you since you two chaperoned homecoming together.”

You didn’t wait to see his reason but as walked past him, you felt him stand up straighter, almost happier.

You opened the door and made your way back to the hotel when you saw Brad standing in the middle of the path. He held a small blue shopping bag at his side and his other hand was stuffed into his pocket.

You felt your breath hitch inside your throat as the two of you locked eyes but you decided to walk over to him. He walked a few steps towards you before stopping in front of you.

His nose was covered in a large bandage but for the most part, he looked like he didn’t have any other injuries.

“ Is it broken?” You asked after a moment as Brad shook his head.

“ No, it’s just bruised. Between your busted lip and my purple nose, our moms are going to freak out huh?” Brad said lightheartedly as you let out a puff of air.

You moved your hand to your bottom lip and ran a quick finger over it before looking back up to Brad.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him but he took a deep breath and beat you to it.

“ I’m sorry for everything Y/N. I know I’m an asshole for kissing you and I’m a bigger asshole for accidentally sending it to everyone,” Brad sighed as he stepped out of the way for a family carrying skies,” I only meant to send it to Peter but that still wasn’t right.”

“ Why did you even do it in the first place?” You asked as the two of you stepped to the side and sat on an empty bench a few yards from the hotel entrance.

Brad put the shopping bag to the side and shook his head,” I was being protective. I saw how MJ and Peter broke up and how messy things got and sure, they’re fine now but I don’t want you to get hurt. I guess I just wanted you to myself.”

MJ and Peter had dated briefly for a couple of months but as quickly as it started, it had ended just before school had begun. She hardly ever talked about it but according to Ned, they were both completely over each other.

“ Oh come on Brad. We’ve been friends since we were in diapers, do you really think I would forget about you just like that?” You asked as you crossed your legs and turned to face him,” I’m turning eighteen this year and that means I’m old enough to make my own decisions without you getting insecure. Do you think I’m going to jump off a cliff just because some dude breaks my heart?”

“ You get emotionally invested in things-”

“ Because I care!” You shouted as you drew in a few onlookers,” aren’t you supposed to be emotionally invested in a relationship- do you even realize your reasoning? That doesn’t make me weak Brad.”

“ I never said it did,” Brad sighed as he fixed his beanie,” I know it sounds super toxic or whatever but I really was just trying to protect you. I’m sorry for kissing you and sending the picture and fighting with Peter. I take full responsibility for everything, especially getting socked in the face cause I definitely deserved that. I just want you to be happy and I’ll do anything for you to forgive me.”

You and Brad had been friends for years and yet, as sad as it was to admit, this was the first time he ever took responsibility for his actions.

Do you forgive him? Not completely especially since the damage was already done but you weren’t as angry as you were from the start.

Was it the best apology in the world? Of course not but it was a start and you believed in second chances.

“ You’re lucky I’m such a good friend...of course I forgive you,” You said as Brad’s face lit up,” but one two conditions. You have to forever buy pizza on movie nights and you need to apologize to Peter.”

Brad smiled sweetly and handed the small shopping bag over to you,” This will cover the pizza for sure.”

You raised your eyebrow at him before turning over to the shopping bag. You reached in and pulled out the pair of special edition Olympic goggles you were admiring on the second day of the trip.

“ Shut the fuck up, are you serious!” You shrieked as you held them up to show him,” these were the ones I was looking at, remember? Wait- I can’t take this, it's so expensive like movie theatre snack expensive.”

You put the goggles back into the bag and gave it back to Brad but he pushed it back to you,” No returns nerd. Guess you gotta keep it huh?”

You clutched the shopping bag close to your chest,” I can’t believe you got this for me...I guess I don’t hate you that much but you still have to apologize to Peter.”

Brad leaned back in his seat and sighed,” I did once I was conscious. He said he forgave me and we actually had a long talk about the whole thing but something is still bothering him. Maybe you should talk to him.”

You bit the bottom of your lip and nodded. You knew your conversation wouldn’t be as easy as it was with Brad but it had to be done.

“ Do you think he’s mad at me?”

Brad exhaled and shrugged,” I guess you gotta find out.”

--------------------

After you showered, you decided to go to Peter’s room to try and talk to him since he didn’t show up for lunch and dinner. Ned lied and said Peter caught a stomach bug but you knew he was just avoiding you.

Peter needed time to himself to think and you wanted to give him space but at the same time, you wanted to resolve everything between the two of you.

You knocked against the door to the boys room again and waited patiently since it was already so late. You heard someone get off of the bed and their footsteps got louder as they approached the door.

“ Y/N? What are you doing here?” Ned asked as he opened the door.

You shifted awkwardly and tried to peep around him,” Is Peter here? I wanted to just say hi.”

Ned gave a quick glance behind him before shaking his head,” He’s showering.”

Before you could respond, the bathroom door swung open and out stepped Brad with a towel around his waist.

“ Hey Y/N, whatcha need?” Brad asked as he used another smaller towel to dry his hair.

You dropped your gaze to Ned and raised your eyebrows,” Really Ned?”

You looked back up to Brad and leaned your side against the doorframe,” Hey Brad, by any chance is Peter in there with you?”

Brad laughed and turned back to the bathroom, shaking his head,” I would hope not. I thought he said he was going to the jacuzzi for a bit?”

You hummed as you looked back to Ned who was avoiding your eye contact,” Thanks for your help.”

You turned away but Brad called after you. You turned around as a ball of heavy fabric hit you in the face.

“ It’s cold, put that on,” Brad said before closing the door on you.

You huffed under your breath but put the robe on anyway since you knew it would be freezing outside.

You went down the elevator and tapped your fingers against the side of your thigh nervously. You made it pretty clear to Peter that you didn’t need him but that was because you were in the heat of the moment.

You got out of the elevator and headed toward the back courtyard where the hot tubs were. You stopped at the double doors and took a peek outside and sure enough, Peter was in the farthest hot tub with his head rested all the way back.

You took in a deep breath and opened the door slowly, still thinking about how you should approach it.

The frigid air flew past you and up your legs as you wrapped the robe tighter around your body.

You could act totally chill and see what he says first so he can have the upper hand or you could just suck it up and own up to your mistake.

A part of you made you second guess yourself.

Obviously he was avoiding you if he had Ned lie to your face and in hindsight, maybe bombarding Peter wasn’t the right thing to do. If Peter needed hours to think things over with you, it only meant things weren’t going to work out.

Before you could step back and walk away, Peter lifted his head up and made eye contact with you.

“ Y/N? Hey! What are you doing out here?” Peter asked as he sat up from his spot.

Fuck.

You let go of the door but it hit you in your side awkwardly as it shut behind you. You couldn’t just leave now that he saw you so you gave a small wave as you waddled across the patio towards him.

“ I was just gonna try out the hot tub,” You lied awkwardly as you stood in front of Peter as you tried to keep your eyes off his bare chest” cause it’s uh hot.”

Peter looked you up and down and gave a small unsure smile,” Okay, get in then. There’s enough room for both of us.”

You looked down at your striped pajama shorts and your robotics club tank top as you let out a nervous laugh. You didn’t think he would call your bluff but nonetheless, you decided to play along.

You took off Brad’s robe and folded it to the side before slowly submerging yourself in the hot tub, fully clothed.

No matter how warm the water felt, the feeling of wearing clothes in the hot tub felt like it should be against the law.

Peter sat up straighter as you sat across from him with your knees touching his. He never thought you would actually get in but now that you were, the inside of his mouth began to feel dry.

“ Y/N, w-what are you actually doing here?” Peter asked again as you bit the inside of your cheek.

Now that he was right in front of you, you didn’t know the right words to say without embarrassing yourself any further.

“ I wanted to say sorry about earlier, I know I said some pretty mean stuff that I didn’t mean at all,” You looked at Peter as he kept his gaze on you,” I know you were just looking out for me and I was being stupid. I would’ve apologized sooner but you kinda were avoiding me.”

Peter watched your face for a moment before turning his attention to the bubbling water. He knew you were right, he was too scared to have this conversation with you only because he was afraid of how it would end.

He needed time to think about everything. With Liz, there were problems with her dad and with MJ, it was stupid fights yet with you, there was just more drama like Brad that he wasn’t ready for.

Any second now, he thought you would tell him that you really did have feelings for Brad and that it was nothing personal. He was used to it at this point; always being someone’s second choice and never the first.

“I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have punched him in the face and I shouldn’t have said that I didn’t trust you, I’m sorry,” Peter sighed as he rubbed his face with his hands,” but you and Brad have so much history Y/N I can’t compete with him.”

“ I’m not asking you to compete, Peter- there is no competition. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t have feelings for him? I like you and only you but if you don’t believe me then what else am I supposed to do?” You asked in a frustrated tone as you tried to keep yourself together.

Peter looked back up at you sadly before taking a breath,” I don’t know! I don’t know...I just really like you Y/N. You know, I’ve liked you ever since senior year started. It was the day in BioChem when I forgot my project and it was worth 60% of our class grade. We weren’t even friends at the time and yet, you made a smoke bomb from the leftover lab and the whole school had to be evacuated just because of me.”

You shook your head from embarrassment,” Brad and Tao had an asthma attack so that’s nothing to be proud of….but I could tell that you were about to cry and I wasn’t going to let the smartest guy in the class fail over a stupid mistake.”

Peter opened his mouth but nothing came out of his mouth. You caught this and titled your head to the side,” What is it?”

Peter cleared his throat,” When did you know that you liked me?”

You shifted in your spot as you tried to remember. In all honesty, you admitted to yourself that you had liked Peter after Brad had kissed you but maybe that wasn’t the best thing to tell Peter.

“ I think this trip really made me see you differently. I always thought you were really sweet and cute but I guess it wasn’t until we were on the ski lift that I really saw myself being with you. I mean, I told you about my brother and I haven’t told anyone about that, not even Brad. I just instantly trusted you,” You said truthfully,” do you trust me?”

Peter’s heart was beating a million times per second. He trusted you about everything you said about Brad and how the kiss meant nothing yet he didn’t understand why he was still so nervous.

Deep down, Peter knew that he didn’t trust himself. One way or another, it always felt like any relationship he was in was ruined because of his mistakes.

“ I trust you and of course, I want to be with you but If I’m being honest, I’m scared we’re moving too fast. I don’t want us to break up over something stupid-”

“Peter, I’m not saying we have to jump into a relationship at this very second,” You interrupted,” and yeah I agree, I’ve never been so quick to find myself falling for a guy but there’s nothing wrong with slowing this down. All I know is that I like you and I want to see where this goes if you’re up for it.”

Peter could feel how flushed his face was and his chest felt heavy. He had pined over you for months and from what you were saying, it was music to his ears.

His heart pounded in his throat as he nodded before reaching over to grab your hand. He gently pulled you across the water into his arms as you naturally straddled him.

“ I thought we were taking things slow,” You said softly as Peter tucked away a stand of your hair behind your ear.

You could feel how nervous the two of you were in this moment as if it was a chess game. Who would make the first move and what would the other person do.

This gave Peter time to catch his own breath because even he caught himself off guard. His hands lingered on the side of your hips as you shifted ever so slightly.

“ We are,” Peter finally said before leaning in slowly to brush his lips against yours. He only meant to test the waters but for him, one-touch and it was over.

He pulled you in closer as he pressed his lips against yours but harder. You moved your hand to the back of his neck and deepened the kiss, both of your lips moving in perfect sync.

The movies could never do the kiss justice; there was no fireworks or sparks, but pure warmth. It filled Peter up and spilled out of his heart and through every inch of his body like a drug and he was addicted.

As much as you didn’t want to, you pulled away after a moment to catch your breath. Peter looked back up at you almost offended but he had realized he had been holding his breath the entire time.

“ You know, for someone who wants to take things slow, you really like to go fast,” You teased as Peter rubbed his fingers against the small of your back.

“ I’m sorry,” Peter bit the bottom of his lip as he took in the moment of you so close to him,” I just couldn’t help myself.”

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