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privateanxieties · 3 years ago

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the nearness of you (in my imagination) P.3

Summary: Working at a coffee shop is the simple choice. The safe choice. For a while, it even seemed like the promotion and the cute new coworker would make for a content life. But when you leave a mess behind, new ones tend to find you. And they don’t like complications. Peter Parker’s entire vibe is that of a complication.

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x Reader (she/her)

Words: 4.2K

Part 1: some people run on coffee... I run on borrowed time

Part 2: a last chance at... friendship?

Part 3: not until you ask me

Part 4: this really isn’t my year

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When Monday dawns, the facts are settled: it really isn't easy being around Peter Parker, and spending all Sunday texting back and forth was a bad idea. Looking at him now is harder than it was just a day or two ago, because she keeps remembering all the times she's smiled at her phone. He's been cuter than cute - he's been covering all bases for an unfortunate outcome.

She may have a tiny crush. Teensy, tiny. Nothing to worry about. That's why she wears her prettiest clothes to work, because there's no desire to impress him. None.

She wore heeled boots to a service job. It is a new level of desperation.

If she's honest, it isn't just to look pretty for him. There's also a degree of insanity involved - however it may sound, she really doesn't want to die looking the way she normally does for work. If she's going to get murdered, the morgue will receive her body in mint condition. That is, if they receive her body.

"Are you taller today?"

One look at his shit-eating grin and she realizes two things: he noticed her appearance, and something made him remark on it. However, she'd hoped that that something would be intrigue, not amusement.

"I got hooked by your crime show. Chloe Decker is a style inspiration," she sasses, trying her best to appear unbothered. Lying is still not very easy, and bound to get harder the more she sinks into her newfound crush.

"And Lucifer isn't?" Peter asks, brow raised.

"I don't see you wearing a suit, so clearly, you weren't inspired enough."

She doesn't think her comeback was that funny, but Peter laughs like she's a budding comedian.

"I don't think three buttons is the ideal crime-fighting outfit," he says while wiping down the already clean counter.

"No? What would be your pick for investigating crimes?"

He appears to think on it some, tilting his head this way and that with a small pout. She tries not to let her eyes dwell on the lower half of his face.

"Something comfortable that I can move around in," is the answer he settles on, prompting her to inquire further.

"So, athleisure? Not sure it'd be very intimidating to criminals. Then again, Spidey runs around in a leotard and primary colors, and crime rates have gone down some…" she muses, not catching Peter's lip twitching.

"Not sure he'd refer to it as a leotard."

Curious, she looks away from her task again, almost finished stocking the shelves with the supplies that arrived that morning. Peter is trying a new coffee recipe he kept going on about last night.

"I mean, I saw the thing up close. It's bright. It's tight. It's thin. You can see everything." She pauses. "His ass looks incredible."

Peter laughs loudly, folding his arms over his chest as he waits for the espresso to finish dripping into the cup.

"You think so?"

She stands to full height, momentarily cursing how uncomfortable the boots feel. Something about his expression makes her wonder if perhaps she should continue talking up the local superhero. Maybe get a reaction out of him that she can analyze later for little details. Such inane concerns for the infatuated.

"Yeah. Solid booty. It must be if he's lifting cars, right?"

"Mm. Not sure that's how it works."

"You're right. His arms must be pretty nice too. Probably gives really good hugs."

"Hmm."

His face tells her nothing. Like the last time she mentioned him, Peter doesn't really seem to care much for Spider-Man, and despite wanting to ask why, she keeps it to herself. Was she hoping for some kind of reaction? Yes. Will she be annoying and press a matter that could ruin his impression of her? Not a chance.

"How'd your special concoction turn out?" she asks instead, peeking over at the cup he placed next to the coffee machine.

"First rule of science: never experiment on yourself. Would you do the honors?" he smirks.

Her breath catches. It's such a small, insignificant thing, but it's the catalyst for a series of moment-ruining thoughts. Never experiment on yourself.

We don't really… need volunteers for this.

I'm sorry?

Well, you know that saying: for the greater good? We're trying to do great things here. Science can't be stopped by something as petty as arbitrary rules.

"You alright?"

Peter's questions snaps her back to reality, blinking up at him like she wasn't just lost in memories. Her face probably looked concerning enough to warrant the deep-set frown on his features.

"Uhh… yeah. Yeah, I just - I'm not sure if I locked my door this morning. Just popped into my head."

It's a terrible excuse, but she isn't a particularly smooth talker.

"Do you have a neighbor you can ask to check for you? Someone you trust?" Peter asks.

Surprised, it takes her a few seconds to shake her head. It's nice of him to not dismiss her worry, pretend as it may be.

"Alright. Then I guess there's no choice."

"Huh?"

"I gotta walk you home." Peter smiles.

"What? For a silly thing like that? No, it's ok. Don't worry about it."

He might just be too nice for his own good. She doesn't let him protest like he seems to want to, motioning instead to the drink laid out on the counter. Peter nods in encouragement, and she takes a tentative sip from the foamy top, a note of star anise immediately infusing the coffee with warmth that reminds her of a soft winter day. It's good, but the holidays are over and January is rapidly disappearing too. Any comfort she might've gotten from the sugary invention is dulled by the knowledge of the threat looming, so she just smiles in approval and tries to busy herself with tasks that put a little distance between them.

The day sees a new low of customers, likely courtesy of the unending snowfall. Peter suggests they order lunch from a place nearby instead of leaving the café, and she acquiesces upon seeing how much the wind has picked up in the last few hours. They end up ordering enough food for five people, and Peter demonstrates an appetite worthy of at least three. The gyoza dumplings keep disappearing whenever she looks away, and there used to be a whole bucket of family pack noodles that is now on its way out. She has a hard time figuring out where he puts all the food. The fitted green sweater leaves no room for hiding his real physique, and the evidence that he eats like this all the time is nonexistent. His metabolism must be insane.

Closing time approaches before they know it, and she says nothing when he takes the same path he did on Saturday, walking with her to the subway station thirty blocks away without ever asking why she does it. She enjoys his company enough to allow it gladly, and when they part at 33rd St., he reminds her to be careful when she gets home. She's mildly embarrassed to have to go along with the lie one more time, but the way he's so serious endears him to her. She doesn't sigh pathetically on the way back to her apartment in an attempt to hold on to her dignity, but in her mind, it's all hazy rainbows and heart eyes.

She's so distracted that the only thing to bring her back to earth is the key. The key that doesn't turn in the lock. Or rather, that turns only one way, and it isn't the correct one. Her door is unlocked.

Swallowed up by the thoughts that invade her, the ping from her phone makes her jump and drop her bag. She quickly pulls the device from her coat pocket and checks it with unsteady hands, seeing Peter's name at the top of the screen.

Everything good? You get home ok?

She presses 'call' before she can even register what she's doing.

“Hey! Everything alright?”

She can't find the words to respond, and the more seconds go by in silence, the weirder she feels for having called.

“Who is this?”

His question startles her. The way he said it was downright threatening, and the words themselves sent her mind into overdrive. Why did he think it would be someone else calling?

"It's me! It's uh… I'm sorry I called. I'm just…"

“What's going on? You can tell me.”

The words flow without a filter.

"I'm outside my door, but it's unlocked and I'm scared to go in. Can you stay on the phone with me while I check?" she asks, voice not entirely confident.

“Absolutely not.”

Her lungs deflate on a shaky exhale, or maybe that was her heart. She hears prominent rustling on the other end of the line and is about to tell him goodbye and apologize for calling when his voice suddenly hurts her ear with how loud it is.

“Listen to me: do not go inside. Tell me your address and I'll come over right now. And get away from the door, yeah?”

Overwhelming. That's the attribute she would bestow upon the amalgamation of thoughts and feelings swirling around her brain.

Reassuring. That's what she'd call the gravity with which he's treating her fear. It's nice, being taken seriously. It's so enticing she doesn't even protest. She just backs away from the door like he said, heading downstairs where she can breathe a little easier. She gives him her address, feeling lighter as soon as she hears that he's ten minutes away.

It's only when she can see him round the corner of her building that it dawns on her she shouldn't have called him here, but something about the look on his face keeps her from going back on everything. His cheeks are bitten red and his eyes are wide and bright, alive in a way she hasn't seen them yet. Breathing somewhat labored, Peter stops in front of her with a huff that blows some snowflakes her way. They keep falling in alluring density.

"Peter, listen. Maybe I should've called the police or something. You shouldn't have - "

"If you called them they would've hung up on you."

He's not wrong. Police don't come because you have a suspicion someone might've broken in, especially with no evidence. They also don't take you seriously when you go to them with evidence, as she's learned.

"Yeah. You're probably right," she relents, but when Peter motions for her to step aside so he can enter the building first, she hesitates.

"Just… I wasn't expecting guests, so, things might not be super orderly and everything," she fumbles.

Peter looks just short of incredulous.

"Someone might've broken into your apartment and you're worried about that?"

"First impressions are important."

Jesus. What a lame reply. And his little smile feels mocking, but isn't. It's just the embarrassment in her head.

"You already got that down pat, don't worry."

She manages not to worry for two minutes, but then they reach her apartment door and the worry returns, albeit this time in a different form. What is she about to see? What if her home is wrecked? What if there is no excuse or story she can sell him about what's in there?

"Stay behind me."

He pushes the door open with surprising nonchalance. Peeking over his shoulder, she sees nothing out of order. So far.

Nothing in the living room and adjacent kitchen. Nothing in the bathroom. Nothing in the small bedroom except two bras she threw on the back of a chair in frustration, and she hopes Peter didn't see those - unlikely, since one is bright purple and the other a stark white against mostly dark colors.

There's nothing at all, and she sighs in relief once they get back to the living room. She's happy nothing overtly terrifying has happened, but the fact remains that her door was unlocked when that was just a lie she came up with to deflect an awkward moment, and especially when she was certain she did lock her door this morning. She's been triple checking every lock for days. Someone came here, but they left no evidence of their presence behind. The only reason she can think of is that they wanted to scare her, as if the threat Powell himself posed by showing up at her workplace wasn't enough.

It occurs to her that maybe they just want to fuck around for a while, maybe to get off on the idea that she can do nothing while she waits for them to move.

Another sigh leaves her tired and defeated, and she realizes just how tense she's been throughout this whole nonsense. However, when she glances back at Peter, she might just look the picture of relaxation in comparison. He hasn't said a word yet, even now that things are clearly in order. His shoulders are pulled tight, and he looks around as if waiting for a Halloween monster to pop out of an unexpected place.

"You ok?" she asks.

The question almost instantly changes his entire posture, like flicking a switch on an animatronic puppet. He inhales deeply before meeting her eyes.

"Yeah. I guess everything's fine."

A bout of silence falls over them both, and she isn't sure what to say now. Thank him for coming? Apologize for making something out of nothing? Apologize for the unwashed dishes in the sink? Apolo -

"Nice place."

"Oh… um, thank you?"

No, not like that, you idiot!

"I mean, actually thank you. You didn't have to come, but I'm… glad that you did," she says with the semblance of a smile.

She tries to think fast on her feet, but with a malfunctioning brain it proves a challenging task. This feels weird. Now that he's done what he came to do, it's strange to ask him to leave, and she doesn't even want him to. But how does she ask a guy already in her house if he wants to stay without sounding extremely inappropriate or making him uncomfortable? She doesn't do this. This isn't something that just happens to her.

Looking at him standing in her living room, hair disheveled as it often is and the red of his cheeks fading into pink, a thought pops into her head that may or may not work out.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?"

"That'd be really nice," he answers before she's finished talking.

She blinks in surprise, and hopes that the smile lighting up her face isn't too obviously infatuated.

"Yeah?"

Peter nods with a smile of his own, and she releases a pent up breath that relaxes her spine and unclenches her left hand.

"Make yourself comfortable then," she says, gesturing to the sofa. It's then that she notices the trail of mud and melted snow they brought in. His footprints and hers wind around each other, looking comically like maybe they were doing something other than checking for intruders. He notices her looking as he takes off his jacket.

"Do you have a mop?" Peter asks.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I mop, you make the hot chocolate."

"No."

"C'mon, it makes sense. Team effort. Like at work."

"Well, this isn't work. This is my house and you're a guest. Under no circumstances will you be touching cleaning supplies."

"Uh-oh. You got your manager voice on," he teases.

It should be funny, but isn't. That one sentence reminds her of an aspect she's been neglecting completely without even realizing it. They are coworkers, and she is his manager. His direct superior. Maybe she can't fire him, but the power scales are tipped in her direction. This is crossing a line she can now see clearly. It pours a bucket of ice cold water over the entire situation, and she freezes in her spot by the kitchen counter.

"What's wrong?"

Is she really that transparent?

She takes a deep breath, already deflated and wallowing in disappointment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize this was wrong of me to ask. Not just coming here, but asking you to stay. I'm your manager. This is a weird situation. I appreciate that you helped me tonight, but I don't know if this is…" she trails off, unsure of what word to use.

"Appropriate?" Peter supplies, studying her curiously.

She nods hesitantly.

"Did you ask me to stay as my manager?"

"What? No!" She balks.

"Then why are you so worried?"

"Because…"

He waits with a raised brow. She's got nothing.

"Alright. Let's look at it this way: if we weren't working together, would you be hanging out with me?"

The question cuts right to the point of the matter, and for a moment she resents the fact that he's so perceptive. Not to mention, willing to dissect any confusion and problem solve. Peter Parker doesn't seem to shy away from confrontation - an admirable skill, were he not using it on her so frequently.

"Just be honest. It's easy. You won't hurt my feelings, I promise."

His eyes are sparkling with mirth. It's impossible to do anything but what he asked.

"If we weren't working together, I'd want to hang out with you." She pauses. "But I'd probably be too chicken to ask, so you'd have to take initiative."

With another easy smile, Peter comes closer until he's just an arm's length away, and she watches him wide eyed and expectant.

"Hi. I'm Peter. Hope you don't mind me asking, but I've seen you around a few times and something tells me we'd make good friends. What do you say?"

Her heart says he's endearing beyond words. Her brain is mush, so there isn't much input from that side. He's doing something he probably doesn't even intend to do just by being himself, having her spun around his gestures like cotton candy around that too-splintery stick of wood she used to get at carnivals. She should be careful with him, lest she end up pricked by misread intentions.

"I mop, you make the hot chocolate?" she asks in an almost-whisper.

"I don't know where anything is," Peter replies softly.

It's ok if he doesn't, she decides, because she can show him. Today and tomorrow and maybe next week also, she can ease up a little more and let him find his way around without worrying about what's out of her control.

"I trust you."

And so they go their separate ways, and when she returns with the mop she sees that his sleeves have been rolled up (dangerous) and he's pondering her kitchen cabinets like prize doors on a TV show.

"Are you trying to divine their contents?" she asks from the doorway.

"Shhh… I have a sixth sense about these things."

She laughs quietly at his determination, trying not to stare too long when she realizes how nice he really looks in just jeans, that dark green sweater and his - oh my god.

"Are those raccoon socks?"

Peter looks at her over his shoulder, and the little stammer he lets out has her biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"That is what they are."

With a grin that can't be contained, she leaves the room for a minute and returns with mischievous crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Peter has gone interestingly quiet, and she taps him on the shoulder with light fingers as he mixes the cocoa powder in a bowl. He hums quietly but barely turns around, catching her eye only briefly before turning back to his task.

Oh no. Did he think she was laughing at him?

Before she can change her mind, she nudges his right foot with her own, and that's when he finally looks down. It takes him a second or two to finally have the reaction she was hoping for. His soft 'no' is very precious.

Her feet are clad in the exact same pair of dull yellow raccoon socks, little rodents with an arched back and scheming hands strewn about in a haphazard pattern.

"Look at that. Little criminals," Peter says.

"Us or the raccoons?" she returns.

"Uh-oh. Do you have anything to confess?"

"That's very Lucifer of you," she points out with a quirk of her lip.

"No no no… that's not how he says it."

Peter leans away from the counter to face her fully, a waft of cinnamon infusing the air. A subtle change takes place that captures her attention and winds it tightly - trapped entirely by his sultry eyes and slightly parted lips, she almost misses the whispered question.

"Tell me, what do you desire?"

Whatever the answer may be in her head, her expression indicates only one possible want in that moment. With chocolate brown eyes, a smattering of freckles right above his cheek, Adam's apple bobbing enticingly, Peter Parker looks a dream. Her own lips part slightly, but no sound leaves them - not until he's leaned in and her breath stutters, a soft gasp consumed by plush lips that capture hers gently and too briefly for her liking.

She blinks up at him in a daze, and gives the unspoken question in his eyes a definitive answer by leaning in herself this time. Unsure what to do with her hands and unable to figure it out with a scrambled brain, she's happy when she feels Peter's own take hold of her, one on the side of her neck and the other resting at her hip. They're so warm she melts into him, leaning into the kiss a little more and letting instinct guide her. Romantic conquests not really being her thing, it's difficult to relax and not wonder if she's doing a good job. She's been insecure enough in the past that her thoughts have ruined otherwise nice moments. She refuses to let this turn out the same.

Whatever emboldens her now is welcomed with open arms, and she figures she can't be that bad a kisser if Peter keeps seeking more pecks each time she pulls away. A small laugh is shared between them, and the endorphins may or may not be responsible for the lack of care the following moments. It sizzles out quickly, and in its place, a dull ache settles.

It's nice, she thinks, but this crosses a line that really can't be uncrossed. Friendship is one thing, but what they're doing right now has the potential to blow up in their faces. And as if he can endlessly grasp her thoughts before they've even taken shape, Peter dispels her worry in a way that colors him with even rosier glasses.

"I know what you're gonna say… and if it makes you feel better, we can forget this happened. But I've been thinking about kissing you for a while and if it wasn't a problem before, it's definitely a problem now, 'cause I really can't stop thinking about it when I know what it feels like."

"I - That's really sweet, Peter. And I don't know what to say. I like you, but this is so - "

"Wonderful -"

"Weird, and we don't just work together. I'm technically your boss, which is beyond inappro-"

"Insanely hot - "

"Stop it," she laughs.

"What can I say, I love a woman in charge." He shrugs innocently.

"The point is, for this - " She motions between them, "to happen, one of us needs to quit their job, and I get the feeling that's not the right thing to do now."

"Are you putting your foot down?" he jokes.

"I'm serious. You're cute, and you're a good kisser, but you're not 'workplace misconduct' good."

"Ouch! I take offense to that. I am definitely ‘workplace misconduct' good. Maybe even 'might commit a crime' good."

Her eyes widen and she slaps his bicep with a gasp, hating how his boisterous laughter manages to coax one out of her also.

"I'm joking. I get what you're saying, and I respect that. This can stay between us, and we can just be friends. I won't kiss you again until you ask me to," he promises, making a tiny cross over his heart.

"You're so sure I'll ask you to?" she challenges.

His eyes sparkle with a mix of confidence and amusement.

"I think you'll ask me before the month is up."

And there it is again, another moment ruined by the knowledge of time and how it keeps moving forward. She tries not to let it show by agreeing to an unofficial bet, and quickly excuses herself to the bathroom, where disappointment can wash over her unrestrained.

Maybe she should've kept kissing Peter, because there's no telling if she'll get to ask him, even if she changes her mind. She doesn't know if she'll live through February. She could be selfish and go back out there, pull him by his ridiculously pretty sweater and mold her lips to his until she learns their shape by heart, but that would mean putting them both in an awkward position. If she dies, she won't have to deal with any of the repercussions and she gets to say she didn't die single, which is a plus. But if she dies, how weird would that be for him? He might show up to work one morning only to find a vacancy in her old post. Maybe a cop asking questions, if they care enough, or if they haven't all been bought off already.

No, she isn't doing that to anyone, but least of all to Peter. She'll play nice, be friendly, try not to look at his mouth too much and get through the rest of January without incident. And without kisses.

Only two weeks to go.

- to be continued -

A/N: Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated. Feedback is crucial for writers and if you like a story, don’t hesitate to let us know :)

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #coffee shop AU #spider-man x you #spider-man x reader

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 3 years ago

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A while ago, I read a oneshot written by the absolutely incredible @engie-ivy titled Always Meant To Come Back (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618893)

They are genuinely one of my favourite wolfstar writers (a far cry from perfect is breaking me into millions of tiny pieces) and this oneshot in particular made me think a lot, particularly about the grieving process that I believe Remus went through during the years before Sirius came back. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I guess it’s a fanfic of a fanfic? I’ve decided to finally post my interpretation of everything Remus went through

The original fic has a very happy ending, so go and read it (because it’s incredible, and is also context for this) but this focuses specifically on Remus’ grief, so it doesn’t end in the same place

The context: Sirius left Hogwarts to try to talk Regulus out of being sworn in as a deatheater, and didn’t come back

CW: Major character “death”, panic attack, grief, implication of suicidal thoughts (very light)

A week passed. A week of worrying from the 3 marauders. A week of being unable to pay attention to classes. A week of McGonnagal apologising profusely for having no new updates about Sirius’ whereabouts. A week of concerned glances thrown at the group from the rest of the school.

Until it happened.

Remus had been scanning the Daily Prophet constantly, for some sign of Sirius.

They were pulled out of lesson, around midday on a Tuesday. All three of them, by a more than panicked McGonnagal.

James burst into sobs. Awful, heart wrenching, gut twisting sobs, that tore through his chest and echoed through the office. The sobs of the loss of a brother.

Peter was shaking. He didn’t know what to do with himself, where to go. He cried. Cried at the loss of a best friend. A family member.

Remus.

Remus was at a loss. Nothing but shock. Thick, foggy shock. There was no way.

He didn’t believe her. He couldn’t believe her, not if he wanted to keep going.

“No.” He shook his head, the only one or speak. “No, he- he can’t be, he isn’t, he’s not- he’s not- you’re wrong.“

“I’m so sorry, Remus.” Minerva herself was shaking, having lost a student who meant so much to her. “All accounts were identical.”

“Did you find him? His- his…”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Then how do we know? He can’t be- not Sirius.” His mind had fogged, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

He tried to register everything. Everything he had just lost. A life of having someone he could really confide in, trust, love with every inch of him. A life with someone by his side, someone who loved him unconditionally, who put up with him at his worst, someone he could have a future with, grow old with, possibly even have kids with one day. Someone he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. His soulmate, his love, his ray of light, the one person that made everything bearable on those hard days. His Sirius.

It took a week. A week of worried glances. A week of no appetite. A week of hiding in a corner of the library to avoid the stares from other people. A week of going through the motions of life, hardly awake, nothing feeling real. 1 week for the grief to hit.

It was something so small that triggered it all. He was in the great hall, Lily watching him sympathetically, concerned, when someone walked past.

“Those are the boys who were friends with the Black heir before he died.” They tried to whisper, but they all heard it, and everything hit Remus in a tidal wave.

He stood up and left, falling apart as everything became real. He was gone. Remus was never going to see the love of his life again. No real goodbye, nothing. He had to learn to live without his soulmate.

He stumbled to the tree by the black lake, the tree he and Sirius had made so many memories by. Where Sirius nervously asked him out for the first time, and Remus kissed him in the rain. Where Remus told Sirius he loved him for the first time. Where Sirius tearfully revealed the truth about his home life, and Remus let him fall apart for the first time, and they really understood how safe they felt together.

He collapsed, a sob ripping through him, attacking him.

Everything that he had somehow kept at bay, the intense grief that felt like thousands of knives stabbing him in the chest, over and over, choking him, stealing the air from his lungs and the light from his eyes finally had its grip around him.

He didn’t hear anybody follow him. It was only when arms wrapped around him, and Mary’s voice rang out, that he realised she was there at all.

“Remus, breathe.”

“He’s actually gone.” Remus sobbed, his heart being ripped out as reality came crashing down on him.

Everything had sunk in, and he almost wished it hadn’t. So Mary held him while he cried, letting him release every tear that hadn’t yet been shed for Sirius.

Remus started disappearing from lessons, spending full days in bed, shutting his eyes and trying to silence the pain in his head.

His parents had been contacted when it had first happened, and he had declined the offer to go home early at the time, not thinking straight, but eventually McGonnagal didn’t give him the choice, and he was sent back to the Welsh countryside to be swallowed up by the intense loneliness that had enveloped him.

He talked to James about it. Only James. James was the only one who felt the same overwhelming grief. The only one who knew him as well as Remus did. They were there for each other. Remus helped James through a series of panic attacks, grounding him, supporting him, and James helped Remus take care of himself, reminding him to eat, talking to him, anything he needed.

His parents tried. They tried so hard, but they couldn’t understand. They didn’t know what it felt like to have your soul ripped out of you at such a young age. Nothing seemed to ease the depression that had seeped into him.

The love of his life had been killed by Deatheaters, and there was a war going on. A war that they were going to fight in. The war had taken Sirius before it had even properly begun, and they were ready to fight.

The funeral felt impossible. Remus spoke.

Standing up in front of everyone was awful, all pitying gazes or grief stricken faces, but he had to do it. He had to do it for Sirius.

“You know, if he were here, he’d probably tell me I didn’t have to do this, because he knew how much I hated public speaking.” He smiled a little, tears shining in his eyes. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him. That I don’t dream about him, or hear his voice. It’s- he impacted so many of us, in so many ways. He’s the love of my life. Always will be. I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t think I can- I can’t say anything else.” His voice broke, and he went back to his seat, Hope wrapping an arm around him, as he rested his head on her shoulder and cried.

They went through Sirius’ things around a week later. Remus and Peter went to the Potter’s manor for it. They told stories, remembered. It was nice. Upsetting, but nice.

Until they got to the bottom of Sirius’ trunk. Remus pulled out a small velvet box and a folded piece of parchment. He frowned, confused, as he unfolded the note.

I know we’re young, but I know you’re the person I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with

I never thought I would be so lucky to fall in love with my best friend, but

Moons, I love you. We’re leaving Hogwarts, and I want to spend every moment of my life with you, especially with the war

Remus dropped the note, opening the box with shaking hands. There it was. A ring. It looked like silver, but as Remus pulled it out gently, he knew Sirius had taken his lycanthropy into account, and it was something that simply gave the impression of silver. It was studded with amber diamonds and had both the Canis Major and Lupin constellations engraved inside.

“Was he going to…?”

“I- I didn’t want to say anything. Not after… that.”

“Merlin, I-“ he couldn’t help the tears that fell, as James wrapped an arm around him. “He was- I could have-“

“I’m so sorry Remus.” James said, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I can’t live without him, Prongs.”

He wore the ring. Nobody said anything. Everybody understood why. Remus was always going to be Sirius’. He had been taken from Remus before they’d had a chance to build their lives together, and nothing could change the love he felt for Sirius, and always would feel for Sirius. The pain didn’t leave him, didn’t give him relief. It trapped him, attacking him.

Some days it was slightly easier. The days when he threw himself headfirst into dangerous missions, or was distracted by his friends.

Then there were the days he couldn’t get out of bed. When someone would absentmindedly call him Rem, or he would find an old photo of the two of them. The days when the same overwhelming pain would drive it’s way into him.

Hope usually didn’t see him on those days, knowing he liked to be alone, but she tried check in on him.

“Remus? How are you feeling lovely?” Remus could hear her footsteps, listening to her sit on the edge of the bed. He didn’t speak at first, he simply sat up and hugged her.

“I miss him so much.” He forced out, his breath coming in short bursts. “How- how am I supposed to move on?”

“You don’t have to yet. You need time.”

“I just want him back.” He sobbed, shaking, finally saying the things he had kept in his mind, circulating, torturing him since it had happened. “I just want to tell him I love him. I want to do everything again. The good and the bad. Everything.” His voice was raw as he cried.

She couldn’t understand what he was going through. She didn’t know how to stop the all consuming grief when it was at its worst, and Remus knew that she felt guilty for not being able to help him more.

Full moons were bad before, but they had only gotten worse. He usually went to the Potter’s for them, James and Peter still transforming to help him, but they barely spoke after the moons. They were too used to Sirius being there. It just felt wrong without him. Even the wolf seemed to notice the gaping hole in their group.

The 1 year anniversary after it had happened was one of the harder days. He spent most of the day alone, in the dark, trying to hold himself together, without the 1 person who could have made it all bearable.

He only forced himself up when there was a knock at the door, immediately met with his friends holding some sort of takeaway.

“Uh… hi.” He said, slightly unsure, as they all let themselves in. “Come in?” He said sarcastically, as James set the food on the counter.

“We’re having a night in!” Mary said lightly, as James rooted through Remus’ cupboards.

“Christ, Moony, where do you keep your plates? It’s like a bloody maze.” He muttered.

“Um, in that cupboard there.” He walked over and took them out for James.

They spent the evening together, and it made it all a little easier.

His friends were his lifeline. They had all experienced the loss of a family member. They were there to pick up the pieces for each other, and Remus would never be able to express his gratitude to them. They were each other’s support system.

Somehow, the conversation was turned to Sirius. One of them made a throwaway comment, not thinking, and they all went silent. Remus could hear his heart beating heavily, and he closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Remus…” Lily started, and Remus felt a tear fall, followed quickly by another as he dropped his head into his hands, shaking. “Oh, Remus…” She wrapped an arm around him.

“It’s just- it’s still so hard, why- why hasn’t it gotten any easier?” Nobody said anything. Nobody knew. They had all lost Sirius, but none of them knew how it felt to lose your soulmate in the way Remus had. “I don’t want- I don’t want to hurt anymore. I just want it to stop, I don’t want to constantly feel like my heart’s being ripped out my chest, like- like a piece of me went with him.” He spoke in between heavy sobs, and Mary stepped in quickly.

“You know, he was the most helpful student in Hogwarts. I always saw him showing the first years around, or defending them from Mulciber and his gang. He wasn’t even a prefect.” She said fondly.

“Even I had to admire his prank ideas.” Lily added. “I was head girl, but I really couldn’t bring myself to give him detention. His ideas were too interesting.”

“He was so considerate. I mean, I watched him listen to so many upset and stressed students, even people he barely knew, because he was worried about them.” Peter spoke quietly, tentatively, not wanting to make the situation worse accidentally.

They quickly spun the conversation to reminiscing, and the pain in Remus’ chest got a little lighter, and he regained the smallest amount of hope that he could have control over his life again.

Years passed. It was a struggle. He barely made it through the bad days. The days when something would remind him of the love of his life. His soulmate. The days when he would recklessly endanger his life on a mission to try and ease the mind numbing pain just a little.

But he did it. He made it through, with his friends by his side. As impossible as it seemed to him, he survived.

It is a very busy set of ideas, because I had so much I wanted to explore that I wasn’t sure how to go about, and I’m not brilliant at writing angst because it hurts my soul, but it turned out way better than I expected, and I hope you liked it!

#sirius black #marauders #wolfstar #young marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #moony x padfoot #wolfstar oneshot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot #wolfstar angst #major character death #remus loves sirius #sirius black angst

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casputin · 3 years ago

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Is anyone else slightly disappointed with the new companion announcement?

I'm sure Millie Gibson will do a fine job, but was I the only one under the impression that Yasmin Finney was going to be joining as the full time companion moving forward? Which was going to be exciting for a few reasons:

1) if Yasmin really is playing Donna's daughter as is speculated then what knowledge does she possess through half remembered fairy tales told by her mother. Love the idea of a companion knowing things.

15: this is an Ood, they-

Rose: Yeah, yeah, an Ood, we've all heard about them. Enslaved race, hive mind, communicate through orbs that replaced the brain, super peaceful, we love the Ood in this household.

2) a trans companion for a generation to properly fall in love with, rather than just being there for 3 episodes.

3) an all black TARDIS team. Instead we have another pretty cis white girl. She does feel awfully Billie Piper 2.0. It's almost as if RTD is scared to go too far from formula, which is very unlike him.

If both Yasmin and Millie end up travelling together with Ncuti then I take the majority of this back. They are near as dammit the same age, and both from Manchester, so could reasonably be bezzies (or even girlfriends which would be a little more in line with RTD) in which case I'm not as annoyed. But with how fresh Yasmin's casting was, the announcement featuring Millie seems like a step back.

And I want it to be known this is not an attack on Millie in the slightest. Just a sharing of disappointment from the new announcement, in much the same way I was disappointed that they made David officially Doctor 14, and RTD said the reason the clothes regenerated too was because he didn't want David to be wearing women's clothing.

This is, of course, despite the fact that Jodie regenerated into Peter's costume and, more importantly, Sascha pulled the look off very well, and there wasn't a scintilla of drag about it. It's not like she wore a dress and fishnets as part of her costume - it was a somewhat androgynous look. T-Shirt, Trousers, suspenders and coat? How womanly - Tennant certainly would've looked ridiculous. It just pisses me off because there would've been so much less focus on the costume had he regenerated with her costume.

I also recall comments made last year RTD made about only gay people can play gay people, which, as we know from Kit Harrington recently, is an incredibly dangerous sentiment, and can actually reduce roles, because by the same metric you say only straight people can play straight people. We absolutely need more diversity on screen, that is a definite, but I do think this is a very dangerous thought, but anyway I'm going slightly tangential here - I suppose my main point is that I'm worried about what RTD is going to do with Doctor Who (and tbh I was worried from the initial announcement).

Millie is good. Ruby Sunday is bad.

Yasmin in good. Ncuti is good.

David in 'women's' clothing is good. David being 14 is bad.

Concerns good. Making a final judgement before we see the product bad.

So I will be happy to be pleasantly surprised by what's in store. And happy for anyone to comment with their own thought. Sorry for long post!

#doctor who #yasmin finney #ncuti gatwa #russell t davies #rtd

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Unofficial Fathers

MAIN MASTERLIST

Avengers x Teen!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,450ish

Requests: I put two requests together for this one. I hope that it’s okay.

1-What about one with the Avengers and reader (maybe they have super speed???) where the reader is a teenager and super stressed out for whatever reason so the Avengers decide to get them moving by doing something with water (like water guns, balloons, slide, etc) with them. Just like fluff, I think it’d be kinda cute

2-Can you write an avengers x teen!reader, where she lost function in both of her legs, which makes her really sad and depressed? The others have to help her with everything and she feels bad, so she ends up trying to do things herself, but gets hurt. Maybe steve and tony play a more significant role. Thanks!

Warnings: angst / fluff / paralysis / wishing to have died

“Hey Speedy!” Tony called over the comms. “You’re up!”

“Finally!” You exclaimed.

The mission had started almost an hour ago, and the plan had been for you to hang out in the quinjet until you were deemed needed. Which annoyed you. Even though you were barely 17, you had been a part of the Avengers for almost 3 years. Longer than even Peter Parker.

Due to some freak accident during the Battle of New York, you somehow ended up with super speed abilities. That’s how Steve and Tony found you almost 3 years old. The two were in the city for meetings and you were zooming around helping people and playing pranks. You thought it would be fun to do something to those two. But before you could do something, Tony and Steve had you pinned to the wall with part of the Iron Man suit. Apparently, their ‘meeting’ was to actually find you and bring you in.

The whole Team was interested in getting to know you very quickly and get you properly trained. Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and Steve handled your combat training personally, while Tony and Bruce tested your abilities and created gear that would help you.

Steve and Tony, though definitely not a couple, took on the role of your parents. You even had begun calling them as such. Steve was Pa and Tony was Dad. They didn’t always agree on exactly how to handle you. But they loved you and that was a step above your real parents, who you didn’t even know.

“Y/N! I need you to get in the building and get anyone and everyone out!” Steve instructed. “As fast as you can! I think the building is going down!”

“You got it Cap!” You responded.

Using your super speed you rushed out of the quinjet and into the building. You zig-zagged through each floor. The first few were empty, but eventually you ran into some people. You quickly helped them out of the building to continue your search. You were almost done with you sweep when you felt the building tremble. You paused, glancing around.

“Kid!” Tony shouted in the comms. “The building is going down. Where are you?”

“Uh… I don’t think you want to know,” you responded.

“Please tell me you’re not still in the building, Y/N,” Steve said.

“I’m sorry, Pa. I’m almost done with my sweep. Just one last floor.”

“No, Y/N! Get out of there now!”

“Just one more floor!” You sped away to get to the last floor.

“I’m on my way to you, Y/N,” Tony said. “Meet me at the Northwest window.”

“Alright. I’m almost—“

You suddenly heard a loud cry. You turned to see a little girl huddled up in the corner as the building’s tremor’s worsened. Rushing to the little girl, you barely missed the ceiling caving down and breaking the floor.

“I’m outside the window, kid!” Tony exclaimed. “You need to get here, now!”

“There’s a kid in here!” You retorted, grabbing the little girl. You sped to the window. “You need to take her.” You held her out to Tony.

“Not without you!”

“Just take her, Dad! Please!”

He quickly took her from your arms. “Don’t do anything! I’ll be right back!”

He flew off and the floor began to crack worse beneath your feet. You knew, even with your super speed, that you wouldn’t be able to make it out of the building without Tony coming for you. When another section of floor collapsed, you knew you needed to get out of there.

“Dad!” You shouted.

“I’m almost there, honey!” He responded. “Just hang on!”

The floor cracked beneath you, sending you falling. You grasped onto the ledge.

“Dad!” You screamed.

“Almost, there—“

“AHHH!”

The building’s roof collapsed, with the rest of the building following. You were pushed down with the debris, screaming.

“Y/N!!!” A multitude of voices screamed over the comms.

But you didn’t hear anything else, because you landed with a thud, hitting your head and blacking out before the rest of the building landed on you.

~~~

“Tony, come take a rest,” Clint urged. “At least drink something.”

You had been stuck under the building for hours at this point, with Tony working non-stop to try and get to you.

“I can’t,” Tony responded. “My kid’s down there.”

“Scott’s almost here, he’ll shrink down and see what’s going on.”

“I can’t afford to waste a second.”

“Stark, we don’t know if moving any of this will make it worse for her,” Bucky said. “We could just be killing her faster.”

“You don’t think I know that!” Tony spun around. “But she’s the closest thing I have to a daughter! And I’ve already let her down once today.”

“You didn’t let her down.”

“I’m the one who told her to go into the building,” Steve said, everyone able to feel the self blame in his words. “I did this to her.”

“Stop with the blame game here, guys,” Clint interrupted. “Y/N wouldn’t want that. Now, we need—"

“I’m here! I’m here!” Scott yelled, running up with Hope. “Romanoff and Banner got us hooked up to cameras and we brought extra Pym particles so that we can get her out of there.” He briefly made eye contact with Tony and Steve. “We’re going to get her out of there.”

“We’ve got this,” Hope confirmed.

Shrinking, the two quickly got into the rubble. The others rushed over to the screens so that they could hear and see what was going on. It was dusty, that much was clear. But the couple were quick to follow FRIDAY’s leads on where to go. The AI was trying to to its best to sense were you were by heat signatures.

“Miss Y/N should be just below,” the AI informed the two in the debris.

“There she is,” Steve breathed out, seeing your head on the screen. It was clear that blood had been, or still was, coming from somewhere on your head. “Tell us what’s going on guys. What’s her status?”

“She’s breathing,” Hope confirmed. “She’s scratched up, but it looks like the bleeding as stopped.”

“She’s lost quite a bit of blood,” Scott added. He turned, revealing her bottom half, squished under a large piece of cement. “That’s not good.”

“Shit,” Tony whispered. “No.”

“We need to shrink her before the damage gets worse,” Hope said. “Get on the other side of her, Scott.”

“On it,” Scott replied.

“You ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shrink her in 3, 2, 1.”

Your body was quickly shrunk. Hope and Scott quickly worked together to secure you to Hope.

“Okay, she’s secure,” Scott said. “We’re on our way up.”

“You’re going to want to get everything ready,” Hope warned. “We aren’t going to want to bring her back to normal size without being ready to work.”

“Helen Cho is waiting back at the compound with her team,” Bruce informed. “Natasha and I have the quinjet ready to stabilize her as much as we can on the way.”

“Steve, Tony, you may want to stay away. It’s worse than the camera’s probably caught.”

“Not a chance.” / “Like hell!”

“Hope is right,” Clint said. “Bruce needs to be able to check her out with out you two hovering.” He looked at Bucky, the two seemingly having a silent conversation. They both took a step towards the two other men. “When they bring her out, we can’t have you two going all papa bears.”

“We’re in the quinjet,” Scott informed.

Clint and Bucky were quick. Bucky went for Steve, fighting with him to slow him down. Clint quickly shot an arrow at Tony’s arc reactor, shutting down the suit and effectively locking Tony in it. While that was happening, the others raced to the quinjet, getting it off the ground before the four men could get there.

Scott normalized himself first before helping Hope with herself and Y/N. Natasha and Bruce were waiting, ready to grab you as soon as they could. You were limp in Bruce’s arms, so incredibly so that it scared even the Hulk to his core. He and Natasha worked quickly and efficiently together to do everything they could before getting to the compound.

Back at the site, the four men had slowed down their fighting.

“How could you do that Clint?” Tony asked, clearly hurt as he was able to get his helmet off. “You have kids. You should understand the need to be with them when they’re injured.”

“I do,” Clint replied. “That’s why we knew we needed to stop the two of you.”

“Whatever happens, it’s going to be hard,” Bucky said. “And they need to be able to fully evaluate her. It was either this or sedation… We’re sorry. We want to be there for her too."

~~~

It was two hours before Cho had finished running all the tests and an hour after that before Tony and Steve could wait at your bedside. You were all bandaged, bruised, and scrapped, but you were alive. That’s all that really matter. The test results had yet to come back, so the men had to try and be patient. You sucked in a breath, alerting the men to the possibility of you waking up.

“Y/N?” Steve softly called. “You there, doll?”

“Pa?” You rasped, head turning towards the sound of his voice while your eyes crept open.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hi, kid,” Tony said.

You turned to look at him. “Dad.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I feel a hundred feet and then a building landed on me.”

“We’re not surprised there,” Steve commented.

“Hey, Y/N,” Helen Cho greeted as she walked into the room with her tablet. “How are you doing? Any unusual pain?”

“Well the drugs you’ve given me are trippy,” you replied.

“Drugs?” She repeated concerned, glancing at Tony and Steve.

“Yeah. I can feel my upper half, but my waist and below are completely numb. What did you give me, doc?”

Helen immediately went to work. She tore off the blankets covering your feet and immediately began running her pen up and down them.

“What’s going on?” You asked, trying to sit up.

“Steve, go get Bruce,” Helen ordered. Steve nodded and rushed out.

You looked at Tony. “Dad? What’s going on?”

“I-I— oh my gosh,” Tony stammered, hand covering his mouth.

“Dad!”

“We didn’t give you any pain meds, Y/N,” Helen stated.

“What?”

“We wanted to see if there was any damage done, so we didn’t want the pain meds getting in the way.”

“So… I—I… I can’t…” You began hyperventilating. “I…”

“Honey, lay down,” Tony urged, gently pushing you onto the bed. “Breathe.”

“I’m here!” Bruce said, hurrying in with Steve. “We need to get her into the scanner and compare it to the other tests we’ve taken.”

Helen quickly went to the head of your bed, unlocking the wheels. All of this was scaring you.

“Dad?” You looked at Tony, teary eyed, before looking at Steve. “Pa?” They both grasped one of your hands.

“We’re right here,” Steve said, bringing your hand up for a kiss as Helen and Bruce began to wheel you away.

“You both need to stay here, while we run the scans,” Bruce said.

“No! Please!” You pled, crying.

“I’ll be with you, Y/N. Tony and Steve just need to stay here.”

Bruce and Helen pushed you away as you begged and cried out for Steve and Tony. The rest of the Team rushed into the hallway to see what was happening. They witnessed you being pushed down the hall.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam asked, looking into the room where Tony and Steve had been left. Both men looked distraught, and absolutely heartbroken.

“Steve?” Bucky questioned.

“She… She… I…” Steve couldn’t pull his thoughts together.

“Tony?” Natasha questioned.

The man fell back into a chair, burying his head in his hands. “She couldn’t feel her legs,” Tony whispered. “She couldn’t feel her legs.”

“She thought they had given her pain killers,” Steve continued, whispering as well.

“Steve, sit down,” Bucky said, moving to help his friend. “You look like you could pass out.”

“I might… she couldn’t feel her legs…”

“She’s going to be alright,” Sam said. “Y/N’s a fighter.”

“Yeah, but… she couldn’t feel her legs…”

~~~

After getting you into the scanner, Bruce and Helen actually gave you drugs to help you calm down. You were asleep almost as soon as they were injected. The two doctors worked together to look over each scan and previously done test. Only to reach the same conclusion each time. You were paralyzed. This brought on a multitude of worries, but the biggest one had to do with your abilities. Would you ever be able to use them again?

After finding out about the diagnosis, it was the first question to leave Tony’s lips. Tony and Steve were standing outside your med-bay room, Helen and Bruce in front of them. The two doctors sighed, glancing at one another.

“No,” Bruce answered. “She wouldn’t be able to use her abilities again.”

What they didn’t know was that you had woken up just in time to hear Tony ask the question and Bruce answer it. Covering your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop from sobbing.

“She’s going to need help with everything, especially right now,” Helen continued for Bruce. “She’s going to need to be looked after. And I—“

“We’ll do it,” Steve replied, firmly. “We’re her family, we’ll take care of her.”

“I know that you two—this whole team, sees her as family. But this is going to be a long, hard road.”

“What are you saying?” Tony asked. “That we send her away? She’s almost 17! Who would be willing to adopt her at that age? Especially when we are her family!” He motioned between himself and Steve. “We are her fathers!”

“I understand, Tony. But you need to be prepared. She’s going to need help with the little everyday things. Bathing, getting changed, going to the bathroom. Somebody’s going to need to help her with it.”

“We will,” Steve repeated, still as firm as before. “Whatever she needs, for as long as she needs it. Whether it’s officially legal or not, she is our daughter and we will help her through it all.”

“I can make her braces,” Tony said. “Just like I did with Rhodes.”

“We actually believe that it would be more valuable if she learns to live with a wheelchair first,” Bruce responded. “Just in case anything were to happen with the braces, that she wouldn’t be completely helpless.”

“I agree with Bruce on this one,” Steve said. “She needs to be able to live in a wheelchair before she tries braces.”

“We will have her in physical and occupational therapy such, so she doesn’t lose all the muscles in her legs.”

Just then, Wanda rushed passed them, heading for your door. “Wanda?” Steve questioned. “What’s going on?”

“The pain,” Wanda replied. “She’s in so much pain.”

Following Wanda into the room, they witnessed you trying to control your emotions. Though it was clear you were upset. Tony and Steve rushed to either side of you.

“It’s okay, honey,” Tony whispered, wiping tears off your cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“N-no…” you rasped, shaking your head. “It’s… n-not…”

“Did you hear what we were talking about?” Steve asked. You nodded. “I’m so sorry, doll. You shouldn’t have had to find out that way.”

You couldn’t stop the sobs at this point. You had just gotten the worse news you could have imagined. You were paralyzed and know unable to use your abilities. In your mind, you were basically useless.

Steve quickly got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. As he cradled you, he tried to get you to calm down. He glanced around worriedly at everyone else in the room, who didn’t know how to help.

~~~

“You need to eat, Y/N,” Tony pressed, trying to hand you a plate again.

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, voice void of all emotion.

You had fallen asleep in Steve’s arms, where the two of you stayed until morning. Tony brought in breakfast while Steve went to get ready for the day.

“You need to eat,” he said again.

“I said, I’m not hungry,” you repeated.

Tony sighed, seating the plate down. “Do you not like waffles? I can have Happy go get something else. A burger? Fries? Ice cream?”

“I want my legs back.”

“Kid—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better about this. You have no understanding about how I am feeling.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I just—“

“Can you leave me alone? I want to be alone.”

Tony knew that you just needed a moment. So without responding, he got up and left, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall next to it, running a hand down his face. The guilt he was feeling was real. If only he had grabbed you and the kid, or if he had just flown faster.

“You’re going there too?” Steve asked, coming up to lean on the wall across from Tony.

“The guilt is real,” Tony responded.

“Yeah… I shouldn’t have had her go into the building. What was I thinking?”

“I shouldn’t have let her convince me to take the kid… but, I guess, feeling this way won’t do her any good now, will it?”

“No, unfortunately, it won’t.” Steve looked at the closed door. “How is she?”

“She refused to eat… I’m thinking about having Happy get all her favorite foods for lunch.”

“Good idea. Maybe we could even try the wheelchair out and bring her to the common area.”

“I like it.”

“I’ll let everyone know about it.”

“Yeah, I—“

“Excuse me, Boss, Captain,” FRIDAY interrupted. “But Y/N is in need of immediate assistance.”

~~~

After Tony left, you huffed. This was miserable. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bed. And, honestly, the longer you sat there, the more you needed to go to the bathroom. You just didn’t want to ask for help, you didn’t want that to be your life. Studying the distance between your bed and the toilet for a few moments, you decided to get there yourself. Besides, they hadn’t tried to stand you up and get you to walk, maybe this was all one big cruel joke.

Taking a deep breath, you flung your covers off. You pushed yourself towards the edge of the bed, helping your legs to rest over it. Other deep breath in and you pushed yourself off the bed, trying to stand. You immediately fell. Trying to brace yourself, you landed on your hands. One of your wrists cracked, failing to break your fall. In the midst of the struggle, your bladder decided to let loose, causing you to lay in a pool of your own pee. You clutched your wrist close to your chest as your door burst open, revealing two extremely worried men. You looked at them, with tears cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I just wanted to do something by myself.” They looked at you with complete pity, which you absolutely hated.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, getting on the floor beside you, minding the puddle. He noticed your wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll go run and get you clothes, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Steve will help you into the shower. It’s all going to be okay.” He rushed out.

“No it won’t,” you whispered as Steve scooped you up into his arms. “It will never be again.”

And Steve thought his heart couldn’t shatter more than it already had. As he lifted you, he could practically feel the weight that this was having on you. You wouldn’t look at him as he took you into the bathroom and set you on the shower floor.

“Can I help you undress?” Steve asked.

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes. This was your life now. Though you could undress yourself, you would always need help, basically be waited on all the time.

“If you want, I can go grab Natasha,” Steve suggested. “Or Wanda. Or, Pepper might even be in today. You love Pepper.”

“I want to be alone,” you mumbled.

“Y/N, I just want to help. Just let me help.”

“And I just want to be alone.” Tears were still falling, though you couldn’t understand how.

“Y/N—“

“Just leave me alone!” You shouted, pushing yourself into the corner.

“What’s going on in here?” Tony asked, bringing in the clothes with Pepper following.

“Leave me alone!”

“Why don’t you guys wait outside?” Pepper suggested. “I’ll help Y/N.”

Steve sighed, straightened up from his kneeled position and hurrying out of there. Tony looked at you sadly before taking his leave. Pepper shut the door and came to your side.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked softly.

“I want to be left alone,” you responded, frustrated and not willing to look her way.

“That’s not going to happen and you know it, Tony and Steve won’t allow it. Those men out there care about you and are so extremely worried. All they want to do is help.”

“I don’t care.”

She let out a small sigh. “Will you at least let me help? We need to get you out of those clothes and washed up. Especially since that wrist needs to get checked out.”

After a moment, you gave in and looked at her. “Okay.”

Pepper smiled at you briefly. “Okay.”

~~~

Apparently, there was already a hairline fracture in your wrist because of the accident. Your fall off the bed didn’t do anything to help it. You had willingly let Pepper help you clean up, but other than that you were still fighting asking for help.

The Team had tried to lift your spirits at lunch out in the common area, but to no avail. After that, you were taken to your regular room, where a twin bed had been added.

“What’s that?” You asked, you hadn’t spoken since the bathroom.

“Someone is going to stay in here with you until things start becoming normal again,” Steve replied, pushing the wheelchair further into the room.

“Normal,” you scoffed.

“Buck and I were thinking we could have a movie night today. Maybe try and watch all of the—“

“I just want to sleep.”

“That’s okay too.”

“I would be here too kid,” Tony added, “but Pep and I are working out somethings with the physical therapist.”

“What’s the point of physical therapy? My legs don’t work.”

“It’s to keep your muscles, so that one day you can get braces.”

You nodded, glancing around until you were staring at your tennis shoes on the floor. They were brand new, Stark designed shoes. They were meant to not wear as fast because of your speeding abilities. Your speeding abilities that you could no longer access.

“Can you do something with those?” You asked, pointing at them.

Both Tony and Steve looked over. They got a tad deflated after remembering how excited you had been about those shoes.

“Yeah, sure, kid,” Tony responded, grabbing them. “I’ll just put them up in your closet. We can—“

“No,” you interrupted. “I want them gone.”

“Y/N—“

“I don’t need any reminders of what I’m now unable to do.”

“Sweetheart,” Tony got down in front of you, “you can still, or will be able to, do a lot. You got lucky.” He immediately regretted his last sentence, even Steve flinch.

“I got lucky? I. Got. Lucky?”

“Y/N, that’s not what—“

“Get the hell out!”

“Hey, that’s not how you talk to your—“

“My what? Father?! Cause you aren’t, remember? Maybe you should take Helen’s advice and give me away! Might make it easier on everyone!”

“You are my daughter, damn it! Whether it’s official or not, or by blood!”

“Y/N, Tony—“ Steve tried to interrupt.

“No! I actually will say that you got lucky. You did because you have people willing to help you, willing to support you.”

“Well stop!” You shouted back. “Have you ever thought that I don’t want any of your help?! Maybe I think that you should have just left me down there to die! It would have been better that way! I’m basically useless like this!”

“Enough!” Bucky yelled, barging in with Nat. “Steve, Tony, out.”

With a glare sent their way from Nat, the two men didn’t even argue. You were refusing to look at Bucky and Nat. Half embarrassed that you said those things to the men you considered your dads, and half embarrassed that you were believing the terrible thoughts your mind was taunting you with.

Bucky and Natasha looked at each other, unsure of what exactly to do. You let them help you into bed before they left you alone, leaving with a promise to bring food later.

In the loneliness of your bedroom, you let your thoughts consume you. How you were now useless as an Avenger without being able to have super speed. How you wished they would have just let you die. How you wish they wouldn’t be so helpful, it was driving you crazy. How you really didn’t have any family, you were all alone.

~~~

To respect your boundaries, Tony and Steve decided to let the others help them. No matter how hard it was. It hurt them to see you struggling through everything and not rush to your side. Not that you would let them help, you weren’t letting anyone without putting up a fight.

Steve and Tony had had many talks since they realized you were wishing that you had just died. Tony had made sure that FRIDAY had surveillance on you 24/7 and the Team, besides Tony and Steve, were switching sleeping in your room every night.

It wasn’t easy on anyone, especially since you were having nightmares about being stuck down in the debris. Someone would wake you from the dream, only to be quickly shut out. The terrors would leave you trembling, sweating, and in a state of panic. But, with you not willing to let people help, the others were forced to watch you struggle with this.

Physical and occupational therapy was a whole other issue. You were rude to the therapists and unwilling to do anything. As the weeks went by, the Team could see the affect it was happening on your legs and they were concerned. Steve and Tony would watch each session from above, angry at the whole situation.

It had been two months since the whole incident, and you still weren’t showing any signs of changing your attitude any time soon.

“Come on, Y/N,” your therapist sighed. “What I’m asking you to do isn’t all that hard. I’m going to do all the work.”

“No,” you stated, determined.

“Y/N—“

“Why don’t you go help someone who’s more able to do things? Maybe someone who will actually get better. I’m sure they’d love your help."

“I can’t watch this anymore,” Tony said to Steve, watching from above. “She’s hurting herself.”

“You know we can’t force her to do anything, Tony,” Steve replied. “We have to let her do this on her own.”

“No, we don’t.” Tony turned around and headed for the room you were currently in.

“Tony! What are you going to do?”

“Use the hate she is harboring towards what happened, towards us, for her benefit.”

Tony burst into the room, causing you and the therapist to jump. You furrowed your brows, confused at what Tony and Steve could possibly be doing here.

“Hand me your leg, Y/N,” Tony demanded.

“What? No,” you responded.

“Hand me your damn leg!”

“No!”

“Fine!” Tony marched over and picked you up from your wheelchair.

“Put me down!” You tried to push off Tony. “Let me go!”

“Tony!” Steve called. “What are you doing?”

“It’s time for some tough love,” Tony responded. He set you down, not gently, on a therapy table. He grabbed your leg and began doing the exercises.

“Let go of me!” You demanded, trying to reach and pry him away, but failing.

“No! Don’t you see what you are doing to yourself? What you’re doing to those around you?! You are miserable and you are making others miserable! Yes, what happened to you was absolute shit. Trust me, Steve and I will have that guilt with us for the rest of our lives. But it’s up to you to decide how to come out of this. You ever fight to live, fight to find the new normal, or you let yourself whither away. And I’m not about to let that last one happen.”

“You may think you’re alone in this, but you aren’t,” Tony continued. “Steve and I, the Team, we all want to help you through this. Even if that means sticking with you for life.”

During Tony’s whole thing, you had began crying. He was right, you were making yourself and everyone around you miserable.

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m so sorry… I just… I just wish…”

“I know, honey, I know,” Tony said, moving to pull you into his chest. You melted into him, crying. He placed a kiss on your head. “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

“Don’t leave me, Dad.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve came over and grabbed one of your hands, gently kissing it. You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Pa,” you croaked.

“It’s okay,” Steve replied with a tiny smile. “No need to apologize. Just please don’t say that you would have rather died again. I don’t think I could take it if you did.”

“If I died or said it again?”

“Both.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Will you guys… uh, will you guys help me with my exercises?”

“Of course, honey,” Tony replied. “But maybe Steve should do the other leg, because I think I wore myself out.”

Steve stood. “I’ll exercise that leg better than you could, Stark,” he commented.

“Oh, you’re on, Rogers.” Tony swiftly stood up.

“Great,” you muttered. “Now this is going to be a thing.”

~~~

Now that you were accepting help, things were beginning to look up again. Not that things weren’t hard, but they were better and you could handle it all better. The Team had decided to celebrate, but wouldn’t tell you how. Wheeling your wheelchair into the common area, you found it pitch black.

“FRIDAY,” you called out to the AI, “can I get some lights?”

“Of course,” the AI responded.

The lights came on and suddenly you were being pelted with water from squirt guns. The Team came out of their hiding spots, laughing, as they continued to fire at you.

“Guys!” You squealed, trying to shield yourself. “Guys! St-stop!”

“Never!” Sam exclaimed as he made his way closer to you.

“Here,” Peter said, lowering himself from the ceiling. “Take this.” He offered you a large gun. “Save yourself.”

You laughed as you began to fight back. Suddenly, you were pulled backwards by both Steve and Tony, who were trying to use you and the chair as protection.

“They’ve turned against us!” Tony exclaimed.

“Help us, Y/N!” Steve added.

You couldn’t stop laughing as you, Tony and Steve worked together to try and defeat the others. The Team couldn’t stop smiling as they watched you act so happy. It was so refreshing. After the common room was all but turned into a pool, the Team decided to change and then meet down in the movie room to relax for the night. When Y/N had arrived down there, Tony and Steve had saved a place between them.

“Can I help you onto the couch?” Steve asked.

You responded with a nod and let Steve pick you up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He carefully guided you through the maze of lodging teammates to the spot him and Tony had chosen on the couch.

“Thanks Pa,” you said as he set you down. You pulled your legs up close to you.

“Not a problem,” he smiled, sitting down beside you.

Tony spread a blanket over you guys. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course,” Tony responded, leaving a little kiss on your forehead.

You curled up against Tony as Steve moved your legs to rest over his lap, allowing him to massage them. FRIDAY quickly turned on your favorite movie. You glanced around, taking in everyone around you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Though your life was going to continue to have its challenges, you were glad you had found this family.

Part 2

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark imagine #steve rogers x imagine #marvel x reader #the avengers x teen!reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years ago

Text

Burnout (Bucky x reader)

“Burnout”

Bucky x reader

Warnings: burnout, overworked, mental breakdown/panic attack

Word count: 3377

A/N: Take care of yourself, burnout is real and you CAN get sick. Trust me. I’m always here if you wanna talk to someone about anything or want another friend. Stay strong <3

Includes: Lyrics from the song “Weight of the World” by Citizen Soldier

Tags: @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @thundering-barnes @abitgryffindorky @ladyfallonavenger

---------

These nights were becoming more common. And that wasn’t a good thing.

You sat at your desk surrounded by papers, empty cans of energy drinks, and a bright laptop screen. You held your head in your hands and you tried to keep your eyes awake, turning the screen brightness higher.

1:46 AM

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them. You took your hands away and looked back at the screen briefly before covering your face again.

You lived with the Avengers and were a huge asset to the team. Not only were you enhanced with powers, but you were incredibly intelligent. That being the case, you worked with Tony and Bruce in the lab either developing new ideas or fixing suits after missions. As well as being on the mission yourself. Therefore you trained early every morning with Steve and Bucky. You also did most of the mission reports, switching off with Steve once and a while.

Most nights you could be found either working through paperwork, down in the lab working into the morning with Tony, or researching for new projects in said lab. You never meant to stay up as late as you did, but no matter how hard you worked, more work kept appearing. Every 10 PM soon turned into 2 AM, and you could never quite catch a break. You had turned to caffeine not long ago, quickly using it as a crutch to supplement sleep.

You had just gotten back from a long mission with the team, and were incredibly sore. Steve hadn’t gone on this mission, leaving you to finish the report. Add to that, Tony wanted to make a better suit for Peter, and Sam’s wings were busted. Tony was working on Peter’s suit, wanting to make it perfect, leaving you with fixing the wings for Sam.

You decided to work on Sam’s Falcon suit first, seeing that you lived on Planet Earth and he could be scheduled for another mission at any time. What seemed to be superficial damage turned out to be extensive, and required much more repairing that you had anticipated. What you had planned to be a 2 hour process had turned into just over a day of work in the lab.

Not wanting to lose your place and needing a distraction from the soreness, you had worked for hours straight, only breaking to relieve yourself every so often. You were exhausted and ready to fall asleep when you laid back in your bed. Only to check your notifications and see an email from Fury requesting the mission report immediately.

Sent hours ago.

Which led you to where you were now. You hadn’t slept in almost 48 hours, sore from the mission, with a tedious mission report to fill out. Taking a deep breath, you removed your hands from your face.

2:07 AM.

You groaned, but brought your hands back to the keyboard and began typing. The words were blurring together and you shook your head a few times trying to stay awake. Somehow, you finished the report and sent it off and looked at the time again.

3:13 AM

You rubbed your temples before climbing back into your bed, sighing out as your eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to bed this late/early. Lately Tony had been coming up with more ideas and would ask you to help. Since Tony works through most of the night, you had learned to do the same. You don’t remember the last time you had more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep.

You were off the hook for training for a few days, due to having just gotten back from a mission. And while you had been hesitant at first, you were grateful now that you had a bit more time to sleep. Despite the caffeine you had consumed to stay awake, you were absolutely exhausted. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you tried to breathe through it. You just wanted a break but couldn’t seem to catch one.

You curled into yourself as your stomach began to growl. ‘When was the last time I ate?’ you thought. Not that it mattered, there was nothing that could bring you out of your bed at that moment. You drifted off to sleep.

-----

You woke up to your phone chiming and groaned, picking it up to see what was so important. Your eyes find the top message, informing you that the mission report you had submitted was incomplete. You jolted out of bed and over to your desk to begin working on the report again, biting back tears of embarrassment at such a ridiculous error on your part. How could you have been so tired that you missed an entire section of a report?

You cracked open another energy drink that you kept in your room and began guzzling it. You were still in the same clothes as the day before and you hadn’t taken your hair down from it’s bun in days. Your stomach grumbled but you answered it with more of the energy drink. You would deal with hunger later. This was much more important.

Your head was pounding and you could barely sit up straight. You had barely gotten a few hours of sleep and somehow felt more tired than you had before it. Your sight became more blurry as it became harder to suppress the tears. You were angry at yourself, why couldn’t you just get this one fucking thing done?

You worked through the section quickly, or at least, you tried to. You kept having to reread sections, not comprehending what the words were saying anymore. You rubbed your eyes aggressively and shook your head, trying to concentrate. You reached to grab the energy drink again, but instead accidentally spilled it all over yourself. Letting out a “Fuck!” as you stood up, something inside you snapped.

You threw the can across the room, not caring how much was left inside of it. You flipped your chair and crumbled the miscellaneous papers on your desk. You let out a scream of frustration, and threw a picture frame across the room. After which, you bent over and placed your hands on your knees, small sobs beginning to wrack your body. You were just so tired, you had work to do, but you couldn’t do it no matter how simple it was.

You walked around the mess and into your bathroom, closing the door. You turned on the shower and got in, not even bothering to take off your clothes or wait for it to warm up. You didn’t care. You couldn’t. You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face as the shower began to warm. You couldn’t bring yourself together, every time you tried to calm down a new wave of frustration and exhaustion would hit you and you would start crying all over again. You held your hand to your chest, trying to catch your breath a little, not having much success. You were gasping for air, it felt like you were breathing fire. Unable to fight it anymore, you started choking out lyrics to one of your go-to sad songs.

Feel the weight of the world over me tonight.

If I break, if I break down this time

You took a shaky breath and choked out the next line

Hope you know I tried…

Meanwhile, Bucky had been thinking about you. The two of you were very close, you had been ever since Steve had introduced you to him. He was in awe of how you could both rival Tony in the lab and himself in the training room. That and how much you did for others. You had helped him a lot when Bucky had first come to the compound. And he was very grateful.

He knew you had gotten back from a mission a few days ago, and were probably exhausted. From what he had heard it had been a brutal mission. However, in the past, you had usually gotten back into the routine of daily life pretty quickly. He hasn’t so much as seen you since you got back.

He couldn’t help but worry.

He decided to go to your room to check on you, seeing as it was later in the morning and you had had a chance to sleep. Little did he know, you hadn’t. When he got to your door he knocked and waited for a response. He was met with nothing. However, with his enhanced hearing, he heard muffled singing from inside. He couldn’t hear the words, but you sounded in pain.

My mind’s such a mess, I can’t handle it, I’m at the end of my rope.

Worried, he let himself in and took in the state of the room. It was completely trashed, shattered glass, overturned furniture, crumbled papers. He heard the shower running and could hear your cries through the lyrics

My neck is breaking body shaking

Sometimes it’s so hard to breathe

But no one sees it follows me i always end up underneath

The weight of the world…

You began coughing, still gasping for air and holding your chest. Bucky came over to the bathroom door and opened it, concerned you were in pain. You were sitting on the floor, drenched and shaking. Steam filled the room, fogging up the mirrors. He came over to you, trying to get your attention but you couldn’t hear him. Worried, he stepped into the shower as well, swearing as it burned his skin. He crouched down in front of you and took your face in his hands, trying to guide your face to his.

“Y/n, y/n can you hear me? Can you look at me?” he said.

Coming back to your senses slightly, you tried to figure out who was in front of you. You grabbed one of his forearms and focused your eyes, still struggling to breathe. You found Bucky’s blue eyes looking back at you.

Bucky, knowing you were now aware of his presence, reached to turn off the water while still maintaining eye contact. You were coughing, choking on each breath, still shaking and crying. Bucky had never seen you like this. You tried looking around again, forgetting briefly where you were and what had happened, breath picking up again in confusion. “Hey, hey, y/n? I need you to keep your eyes on me okay?”

“It...hurts..” you gasped out, feeling like fire filled your lungs. Your arms had gone numb and in the absence of the warm water your wet body was now shivering from both the cold and anxiety.

Bucky quickly looked you up and down. “What hurts, y/n?” he said calmly but firmly even though he was freaking out internally.

Fresh tears spilled out of your eyes. You tried to talk but couldn’t speak through your panic. You rubbed your chest, willing your heart to slow down but it wouldn’t.

Bucky, still keeping his eyes locked on yours, said “Listen, y/n, I need you to try and breathe with me slowly, okay? Like this,” he breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. You tried to copy him and after a few breaths lost your pace. You shook your head. “I can’t…. I...I…”

. “It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe y/n. Try again, I’m right here okay? Look at me.” he said, still breathing deeply. Eventually, you were able to find a rhythm and catch your breath, becoming aware of the situation and everything that had happened. Now able to breathe, you felt new tears of shame rush to your eyes. There were a few moments of silence

“What happened?” Bucky asked, concern etched on his face.

You let out a small sob and covered your face, and Bucky’s heart shattered. He had never seen anyone this upset, nevermind you. You had always been so strong, energetic, joyful. And here you were, soaking wet and shaking on the shower floor. What the hell had happened to you?

He stood up and got out of the shower, also soaked, but he didn’t care about that right now. He leaned down and put one arm behind your back and the other looped under your knees and he picked you up. He placed you down on the vanity and stood in front of you. He carefully took your wrists and pulled them away from your face, you looking at him through bloodshot eyes.

“You - you’re soaked,” you said, both out of shock and in an attempt to deflect the attention from you.

“Wh- I mean, yeah, so are you,” Bucky said. “Y/n, can you tell me what happened?”

You looked down at your hands and swallowed thickly, embarrassed. “I, uh…” you cleared your throat. What had happened? You closed your eyes and rubbed your head.

The shower

The song

Your room

The report

The energy drink

Oh fuck

You sighed out “Shit, I just…” again, shame began to overtake you. “It’s stupid, forget about it,” you said, trying to stand up.

Bucky stopped you, confused. “Y/n, whatever just happened, that… That’s not caused by something stupid. I’ve never seen you so upset before. Hell I’ve never seen anyone so upset before. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Really, Buck, I’m fine,” you said.

“Then why are you trying not to cry?”

You sighed. There was no other way out of this. You looked at him and said, “I was just done.” You looked back down at your hands, and continued trying to keep the waiver out of your voice. “I just, um...After the mission I had to fix Sam’s wings, and it took me longer than I expected. And then I still had the mission report which took me all of last night and then I found out that I had missed an entire section. And I got mad that I couldn’t focus or stay awake and I just kind of...broke.”

As you looked back at him, face not as red, he could see how tired you seemed. “Are you sleeping?”

“I mean, a little bit it’s not like I’ve been awake this whole time but -”

“Y/n.”

You looked at him. “A couple of hours a night at most,” you said quietly.

Bucky nodded sadly. “Anything else?”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times. “I mean it’s not a big deal -”

“What I just saw was a big deal,” Bucky said gently.

“I haven’t really made time to eat either,” you tried to laugh it off a little. “Just kind of chugged energy drinks. But then I spilled it all over myself, so...bad idea I guess.”

Bucky wasn’t laughing. But he wasn’t angry either. He was, but not at you, never at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The days off after missions are there for rest.”

You shrugged. “I had important shit to do.”

“Well you’re pretty important shit too,” he said a little more firmly, but still not angrily. He sighed. “But really, if you’re not okay then nothing gets done. You’re going to get sick if you keep doing this to yourself. When was the last time you had more than a few hours of sleep?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

He sighed once again. “I’m sorry,” you said, fearful that he was angry with you.

“No, it’s not your fault I just…” he looked away for a second before looking back at you. “I don’t like seeing you like this. I don’t want you pushing yourself so hard and getting hurt.”

You sighed sadly and rubbed your eyes. “Every day I tell myself it’s the last day I’ll stay up so late. I always tell myself I’ll eat after my project is done. But no matter how hard I work there’s just more and more work that needs to get done. And I can’t keep up. I feel like I’m drowning. But no matter how much I hate it I...I always come last,” you said.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Bucky said.

After a few moments of silence, Bucky pulled you in for a hug, you still sitting on the counter. You closed your eyes against his chest and sighed out, feeling good finally getting all of that off of your chest.

“You’re taking the next few days off.” he said.

You pulled back and looked at him. “But the report -”

“Is mostly done and Steve can get the rest of the information from Sam.” Bucky finished for you.

“But -”

“Nope. There is not a single thing you could say right now that is going to prevent me from making sure you take care of yourself for a few days.” he said, and you knew he was right. Nodding, he pulled you back in for a hug.

“We should get out of these clothes.” you said softly, shivering a little.

Bucky laughed a little. “Yeah, we really should.”

You moved to stand up from the counter, still a little weak as you leaned on Bucky a little. You walked slowly out to your room and were met with the mess you created earlier. “Shit,” you said, taking in the broken glass and furniture.

Bucky turned you around and said “Do you want to come to my room? We can deal with this some other time.”

You simply nodded, stepping around the broken shards of glass and to the hallway. Bucky’s room wasn’t far from yours, and luckily no one was in the hallways to comment on how both of you were in wet clothes. Once in his room, he closed the door after you and went to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of sweats and one of his T-shirts and handed them to you. “They might be a little big but -”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the clothes and heading to his bathroom. You closed the door and peeled your current outfit off of you. You found a spare towel and dried off the rest of you, and pulled on Bucky’s clothes. They were huge on you, but you didn’t mind. You took your hair down and redid your bun before splashing some cold water on your face. Deeming you looked more presentable, you came back out and saw that Bucky had also changed. Smiling warmly, he pointed to the bed.

“So you are going to lie down, and I am going to go make you some food. I’ll be right back.”

You started shaking your head. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have -”

He raised his eyebrows, still pointing to the bed. Swallowing a laugh, you nodded and sat down on the bed. Bucky then left the room and returned a few minutes later with a sandwich. After you had eaten it, you laid back in the bed, melting into the softness of the mattress. You faced away from Bucky, who was sitting next to you on his phone. He was (slowly) texting Steve to finish your report, which took very little convincing.

After a few minutes, you asked “Can you lay down with me?”

Bucky smiled a little to himself. “Sure, doll,” he said, and he moved to lie down next to you. Unsure of what exactly you wanted, he gave you space. Not soon after, you turned over and scooted closer to his side. After a moment of shock from Bucky, you asked “Is this okay?” Readjusting a little, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer. “Yeah, is this okay?” he asked in return. You merely hummed in approval, already feeling safer in his warm embrace. He let out a small laugh. “Try to get some rest, y/n. I’ll be here whenever you wake up.”

It was the most peaceful sleep you had ever had.

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vibesaresimplyatrocious · 3 years ago

Note

At some point in the comics Matt's identity becomes the world's worst kept open secret. I'm pretty sure he sues the press for this.

Would he still be able to get away with this in Jumble Sale Chic's universe considering the territory thing?

Was claiming territories that large ever outlawed or is it just taboo?

So, yes and no.

He would probably be able to get away with it in the sense that he’d probably be able to dodge a legal finding that he’s Daredevil. Like, Matt in the comics and Matt in JSC are both breaking laws as daredevil. If I remember correctly comics Matt sued the press for libel, and they weren’t able to prove he was daredevil, so they had to print a retraction. which means the evidence people had on him had to have been super fucking weak, because he beat them on a preponderance of the evidence standard and a criminal finding would be on the much higher beyond a reasonable doubt standard, so a criminal case would have next to no luck. So everyone knowing he's daredevil isn't the same as having a legal finding that he's daredevil--namely, it lessens the risk of him getting prosecuted or disbarred.

Matt in JSC has an extra hurdle to jump in the sense that he also can be identified by the scent thing, which he’s obscuring using blockers right now, and like. If he gets dragged in, they’re gonna be able to withhold blockers. He’d be clocked as the guy who smells like daredevil. I think he’d probably just rely on his fake twin brother and point the finger at Mike Murdock, identical in everything. So, Matt would probably get away with it like he did in the comics.

The problem is that claiming massive territories like Matt did is incredibly illegal in the JSC universe. So I can see them coming after Matt in JSC even harder than they did in the comics--maybe he doesn't get away with it. Like, comic Matt is committing a lot of violent crimes. But JSC Matt is committing a lot of violent crimes and is a serious threat to public safety.

And it’s basically for like, the exact reasons why hand-spun silk happened. The problem at the start of hand-spun silk isn’t that Matt didn’t have a partner; the problem is that Matt didn’t have a partner and he had a massive fucking territory filled with enemies to be possessive over. Like, the hierarchy of concerns during rut goes: 1) mate 2) territory 3) literally nothing else. If Matt had a partner, that’d be sort of where his entire attention span would stop, the way it happened with Peter. He’d just get really intense and obsessive about one specific person and his territory would only rank as important enough to break through that focus if like, fucking Fisk showed up and started being an active threat to his terf and his partner. But if there isn’t a person, then all of his attention goes to being intense and obsessive about his territory.

And taking care of a partner consists of very different things than taking care of all of Hell’s Kitchen. Like, he just wanted to be schmoopy and clingy with Peter. He will want to brutally murder Fisk and leave his body as a warning to everyone else. Claiming this big of a territory is not just the sort of thing that’s taboo to do—it’s a big ol’ sign saying “i may lose it and kill people one day”

If someone with as big of a territory as Matt doesn’t have a partner occupying their attention, there’s a huge risk of the person in question either killing or raping someone while in rut. There’s like, other considerations involved in the creation of that law—the idea of territory is pretty primitive, people have like, mortgages and leases now, also it sort of invites a turf war that’s extremely frowned upon in civilized society, so there’s a lot of incentives for society to socially and legally confine claiming territory to “property you actually own and nothing else”—but the number one consideration behind it is “hey, what if this fucking asshole loses their partner and goes off their nut and starts killing people once they rut.”

Which Matt was fully aware of at the start of hand-spun silk. He knows that he may go insane and actually kill someone. He knows these laws exist, why they exist, and what they’re trying to stop. He knew that from the start, but was borderline suicidal when he made this particular life decision and wasn’t exactly planning to make it to his next birthday party, so he thought it’d be a non-issue. This was the first time rut actually came around and he didn’t have a partner to keep him calm. So he decided his options were to 1) find someone to help him out as his partner or 2) leave Hell’s Kitchen entirely so he wouldn’t hurt anyone.

If he was just leaving like, his office unguarded, it wouldn’t be such a big deal—that’s a very small space and isn’t under big threat, it’ll be fine for a week. He won’t be super distressed over it. But Hell’s Kitchen is literally always under attack to some degree. There’s always danger going on and Matt’s going to know that in rut. He’s got a very high risk of stroke or heart attack or other stress-related complication. Option 2 is either going to kill him or leave him on his ass for a very long time after.

Comparatively, Option 1 would probably be better in every possible respect. There’s huge health benefits to spending a heat or rut with a member of the opposite sex—which like, the man could use after how many concussions he’s had. Hell’s Kitchen would be fully safe from him, and he wouldn’t have to leave it. He’d also have a negligible recovery period after a rut with a partner, so he could get back to work and Daredevil pretty much immediately after.

Except Option 1 required Matt to effectively ask someone else to have a lot of intimate, unprotected sex with him to bail him out of his own bad decision. He wasn’t willing to do that. People offered to bail him out, but, for a lot of reasons, Peter was probably the only person on the planet he’d actually be okay accepting from.

Effectively, claiming hell's kitchen was a bad enough life decision that the best possible choice matt could make as a result was to just. Take on very serious risk of death and just hope that he beats the odds and doesn't have a stroke. It's such a bad decision that it’s an extremely illegal one and--hey, it may be illegal enough that the law comes down harder on matt than it would in the comics. whether he actually gets in prison for it is gonna come down to how good he is at gaslighting the world into thinking he's not him. he'll probably ask peter for a consult.

#jumble sale chic #there are other asks but that's all for tonight folks #this is not abandoned by the way i just have zero fucking time right now #i'll be back with more on chewing coffee when i'm averaging more than four hours of sleep per night

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago

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headcanon: “when the svu boys knew they were in love with you”

created in conjunction with @hurricanejjareau.

1. rafael barba -

his head’s on the desk, and he’s fairly sure any coherent thought has long since fled his mind. rafael’s breaking down, slowly, and somehow you know. you always know. you have to get a text, or something, a call from whoever decides to unload the weight of the world on rafael’s shoulders. oh, don’t worry, carino, your boyfriend is simply working himself to death again.

because you always show. and this time, it’s in the nick of time. he’s about to collapse, perhaps quite literally as he leans against his window for what he’s calling a break, when you push open the door to his office with a... look. it’s not angry, not even disappointed, just the perfect mixture of concerned and amused and exasperated that makes him feel so incredibly loved.

loved. in love. in love with the way you walk over with a decaf coffee to remind him of the taste, give him enough energy to drag him back home and make sure he cleans up before collapsing into bed next to you.

rafael barba loves you, and falls asleep before he can overthink it. an ultimate blessing, because the last thing he really processes is that he’s got his arms around the love of his life, and he’s unsure if that’s a feeling he’ll ever get over.

2. sonny carisi -

sonny realizes he loves you at the exact moment he says it.

it’s not premeditated. it’s not thought out. it just happens. he’s watching you try your hand at cooking (”it’ll never live up to you, sonny carisi”), and he can’t help but come up behind you and kiss your temple as you tell him about your day. he’s watching your hands move a little as you speak, watching the way your brow furrows and your eyes widen as you describe your day, laughs with you but quiets so he can just hear your voice as you speak. it doesn’t matter what his day was like (long and boring and tedious) because you make it better just by being there. and before he can think about anything else, he’s thinking it and he’s saying it.

“i love you.”

and of course you freeze, of course you do. and sonny goes bright red, because that’s how sonny carisi works - his face lights up like a goddamn fire hydrant, and he’s stumbling to take it back, to apologize. because holy hell, he loves you, and he’s looking at you and blinking, eyes wide, as it hits him all at once.

you smile at him, though. and that’s what matters in the end. smile at him, offer him a taste of what you’ve been stirring, and he knows that it’ll all be okay.

3. nick amaro -

nick doesn’t doubt you’ll like zara and gil. he has no reason to.

hell, he’s almost positive zara will love you, in her both arms open and gripping you tight kind of way. and gil will adore you, in his shyer ask you questions until you’ve bared your soul to the kid kind of way. they’re good kids, great kids, and you’re incredible in the way that makes him smile when he thinks about you.

what he doubts is that everything will truly slot into place. because maria is halfway across the country, and cynthia is still holding back that little bit of her life that she absolutely has the right to, and nick is so damaged that he’s unsure he even has the right to ask you into his life at all.

but because you’re you, you come in like a little bit of a wave. a gentle rush of warmth over everyone. and you woo maria with your grin, and you charm cynthia with your gentle teasing, and zara and gil have just as much fun racing you on their bikes as they do fielding grounders from him. and he’s watching you, your hair in the wind looking wild as the three of you laugh ahead on the path, knowing that the warmth in his chest won’t ever go away.

he loves you. he really loves you. and he can’t help but hope that maybe he can have it all. just this once.

4. mike dodds -

mike’s in the hospital... again. because of course he is. he’s pretty bad at staying out of it, if he’s honest. and all he can think about is you.

he’s been in enough of hospital rooms to know they’re not the greatest places in the world. he’s very aware of every part of him that’s hurt and busted, but all of that takes a backseat. because all he can think is how your face must’ve looked when the doctors called you, how your eyes must’ve narrowed, how your jaw must’ve clenched. you’ve been with him through a lot, so he knows your eyes roll with the frustration before telling her you’ll be there as soon as you can. he knows you better than he knows himself.

and when he hears your voice outside his door, everything else fades away. because even though you come in, exhausted, glaring, arms crossed over your chest, he knows exactly what you’re thinking. even in the face of your frustration he gives a bright, wide smile. one you return, despite yourself.

“you’re impossible, mike.”

“i know.”

mike dodds is really lucky, he realizes, in that moment, to be so in love with someone so special. he’s in love with you, and nothing else matters. and he knows that no matter how many time he ends up in this exact spot, watching you walk into a hospital room, you’ll always be there.

5. peter stone -

peter gets home before you, for once, and it feels a little bit like a miracle. one he’s determined to take advantage of, as he shrug out of his pullover and gets to work.

there are things that fall apart as the both of you dive into your work weeks - things like the dishes, the living room, the bedroom. there’s a lot of going, going, going, and then the week is gone. but peter is home early, and he finds himself diving in without thinking.

he doesn’t exactly know why he does it - maybe because he knows that your shoulders will sag in relief as you come through the door and realize the weekend can start exactly how it’s meant to, with relaxing against him on the couch with a show pulled up you can both finally finish. maybe because you love the feeling of clean sheets after a shower in the evening. maybe because after everything this week has thrown at you, you deserve to come home and not worry about a thing.

and then it hits him as he’s turning down the bed, folding the comforter back so it’s perfectly laid out so you can crawl right in if you want to - he loves you. he loves you, and so things like this are the easy option, and he smiles to himself as he finishes up the bed, smiles even wider when he hears the jingle of your keys outside the door.

tag list: @crazyshannonigans // @writefasttalkevenfaster // @altsvu // @ssaic-jareau // @encounterthepast // @mijop // @bureaudart // @1234-angelika // @nuvoleincielo // @wanniiieeee // @averyhotchner // @barbasbodaciousbeard // @caracalwithchips // @xxlovingfandomsxx // @mad-girl-without-a-box // @alliekenner

#my fic #red :)#law and order: svu headcanons #law and order svu headcanons #svu headcanons #gender neutral reader #rafael barba x reader #sonny carisi x reader #nick amaro x reader #mike dodds x reader #peter stone x reader #fluff #cw hospitals #tw hospitals

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iwhishtomeetinournextlife · 4 years ago

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An anonymous lover (part 4)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, not proof read

Word count : 2.6k

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - You're here - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

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

Sirius was slowly starting to desparate, it has been now almost three weeks seen he received the letter from that mysterious person and he had no idea who it could be. He and the marauders –with the help of Lily- had search for them among Evans’ friends, but none of them matched the headwriting or even admiting being the writer of the letter.

He is not that surprise, after all it was said in the letter that they didn’t know each other that well, and most of Lily’s friends were people he knew himself and was close to, but it was worth the shot he told himself.

He was in potion, lost in his own mind, he didn’t hear someone calling next to him and he snapped out of his mind, “You said something ?” It was Y/N, his potion partner, despite being a slytherin, she was always nice, a bit discreet in class, even if he heard a story or two from Lily of little mischiefs she has done, the more time they spend together, the more he was surprised she was a slytherin.

“I was asking you to give me the mandrake leaves”, Sirius looked on his left were the leaves were, he then looked at the cauldron on the table, it had a greenish color with some pinkish sturls, bubbling heavely. He wasn’t paying attention at the beginning of the class so he had no idea on what that was, so he decide to just hand over the madrake leaves to Y/N.

She ground the ingredient before putting it in the cauldron who turned completly pink. She then looked at Sirius, “Are ok ? Y' look a bit.. Off"

Sirius straighten his back on his stool, trying to look more composed but he sighed, “Yeah yeah ‘t‘s just...”, he hesitated a bit, should he talk to her about it ? But she looked so concerned. “It’s just there is that person who gave me a letter a few weeks ago and I don’t know who it is. I’d like to meet them” He was playing with the little kiss card, he had since forgotten the feeling and the paper was slowly tearing up by being touch all the time.

Y/N simply smiled at him, “Yeah, I heard about it. Who knows, if you’re lucky maybe they heard about it too and will come to you ? Or send another letter ?”

Sirius just nob a little, he hoped she was right and that wasn’t just a one time thing. He decided to pay more attention for the rest of the class.

After the lesson of this morning, he went to the Great Hall with the marauders to eat, his stomach was rumbling louder than Peter’s snorring at night. At the table he thought about what Y/N had said, apparently some people had heard about his desire to find a mysterious lettermaker, maybe indeed they had heard of it and would send another one ? Maybe even directly talked to him ? He tried to not put his hopes too high but he couldn’t resist to look at the owl’s entry and wish to see one arrived for him, he wasn’t a patient person after all.

He tried to pay attention to what James was saying, something about the perfect plan to ask Lily on a date. “She will say yes !” the boy was confident.

“Of course, like the 437 other times” mocked Remus, his friend open his mouth agape, absolutly scandilise, “Don’t be a party pooper Moony ! Friends are s’pose to support each other !”, Sirius was about to retort something but his head snapped at the sound of wings flapping around, making his friends laugh. “You think you will have another letter ?” asked Peter.

Sirius sighed, “I hope so ! They can’t just send me a wholehearted letter and then send me obsoutely nothing ever again !”, he waited a bit and his eye widen when an owl landed in front of him with a letter decorated with stars in the beak, he was completly overjoyed. “NO WAY !!”, he screamed a bit, making heads turned to him, includind Y/N’s, who observed him from afar.

Sirius looked at the enveloppe, it had a new constellation draw on it, and didn’t wait to open the letter, completly ignoring the owl who was waiting for his reward, it’s Remus who ended up feeding the animal who then flew away, the marauders all looked at Sirius, waiting for a reaction, who just had the biggest grin on his face.

It was written in a beautiful emerauld green this time, with forget me not flowers as well as lilac, it smelled beautifully good and was quite soothing.

“Dear Sirius,

I heard you were looking for me ? I must admit that I’m flattered and happy you liked the first one so much, it warm my heart to know it had the reaction intended.

Looking at you from far away searching for me at the wrong place is very entertainning, that’s why I’m going to let you keep looking for me a moment”

Sirius open his mouth in shock. “What, what are they saying ?” James leaned accross the table, trying to see. “They wants to play a little, apperently it makes them laugh to see me struggle finding them”;

James laugh, “She seems fun !”, “Or he” told Sirius.

“FINE ! Wanna bet ? 5 gallons it’s a girl !”. Sirius stopped to think for a moment, he didn’t care of the gender of the person but he really wanted to bet with James, they did that often and it wasn’t a big deal in the end. “That’s a deal then, Prongs”. Sirius then went back to the letter.

“But since I am not a complete monster, I am going to give you a hint : I am not a gryffindor. And because I will dare to say I am quite generous, I am going to let you write to me too if you desire to do so. You may have noticed with the kiss from last time –that a hope you liked- I like inventing a few things, in the enveloppe you will find pieces of paper to stick to you letters, the charm of the paper will transcribe you’re message onto a parchment that I possess. I could tell you all the magic behind it but I will keep it for another if that interest you.

Game on Sirius Black ! 3 gallons you can’t find me before at least two months.

P.S : The pieces of paper are a new creation so it might malfunction, I will send you an update in ten days if I have no news from you, or you could always scream in the Great Hall if you want me to send something sooner”

Sirius looked in the void for a few second, ok, that was a lot of information to take at once, he let James took the letter so he could read it. He looked in the enveloppe and there were indeed five pieces of paper, he guessed it was singled used. He looked some more and was incredibly disappointed to not find any kiss in it. He had really hoped he could feel it again. Well, from them, when Sirius better explain to James what was the kiss he had felt, he put into an habit to kissed his friend good night to tease him, always getting a smack from Sirius in return.

“Wow, they seemed brillant” said Remus who had now th letter in hand before giving it back to Sirius. "Must be a ravenclaw” remarked Peter, that’s where they will be looking next. But for now, he couldn’t wait to write to them, the first thing he will do once back in the dorm.

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

And that’s what he did right away once the day ended, he thanked them for the letter, telling them how much it had helped him to feel better and how grateful he was for all the nice things they had said. Of course he took the challenge, he never back away from an opportunity to win, especially one such as this one, he had flirted a bet a date at Hogsmeade he will find them before those two months. He ended the letter by demending more kisses to use, obviously.

Once he was satisfied with it, he decided to try out the piece of paper to transfer the message. At first nothing happened, he was a bit scared the thing wouldn’t work, but when he was about to voice his worries, the lines started to shine of golden glow before slowly disappearing. Wow, they are brillant.

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

Sirius was more than happy to received a letter the next day, the paper had perfectly worked out ! That letter was way more casual, with less decoration, talking about the few past weeks with an added candy, their favourite one they said, Sirius made sure to note that somewhere in his mind as he was eating it, sour, just like he liked them.

He also was delighted to see they had added kisses with that letter, two, with three used each that made six in total, he used one right away, he had missed the feeling too much. He had to slap away James who wanted to try it out too, to see what was so great about them.

“C’mon Pads, you said it could be reused !” had he complain. “And it’s not like you’ll run out, now you can have more whenever !”, Sirius just threw bread at him, “Don’t you fucking dare Prongs, I wil envoy each one of them !”.

Him and the rest of the marauders have given up on searching on their own who the person was after a few days, they used energy for not much and apparently the anonymous person envoyed sending them in the wrong direction, Sirius having some akward conversation with people he barely knew to know if they were or not the person he was looking for. He decided rather to focus on the letters.

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

And that’s how Sirius and the anonymous penpal fell into a routine, he will write in the evening and have an answer the next day at lunch, writing to each other almost everyday. He smiled at the evolution of the letters, it became more natural, the penpal slowly loosen up the handwriting to a point were it would be impossible for someone who didn’t lived “the downfall to incomprehension” as he tease them about, but he loved that, it fell special to him to be able to read them so well when other struggled.

The marauders had read the letters occasionally when the penpal was giving hint of who they were, which was a rare occurrence, bu they had given up days ago. James had froaned at the letter, he thought he had seen it before but he couldn’t recall where, he simply pushed that idea in the back of his head.

He groaned a bit when they turned out to be a she, handing five gallons to James who simply sang “I told you so” over and over again. At that Sirius simply rolled his eyes and went back to the letter.

They were always written in colored ink, with always at least one doodle, often of flowers, especially roses, she apperently loved them very much. He keep that in mind among the other little details about her and the gifts he could bring her once they met. He also were given more kisses, some on the cheeks, or the hand, whether on the knuckles, fingers, the palm, he loved it all. He received one on his jaw that he absolutly loved, but he has teased her about it and so as a punishment he never received more of these.

Truth be told, Y/N was simply completly embarassed of what she has done, she send this one a day were she felt particulary bold and regretted it the very next day at Sirius’ teasing.

He also received some hugs. Boy did he loved those, they never lasted long enough for him. He finded them so comforting, and by the repetition of them, he could tell she was smaller than him and that had him completly melted. And he swore he almost passed out the day she sended her voice.

It wasn’t much, just “Have a nice day, Sirius !”, but he listened to it every single day, delighted when he was told it was unlimited. Y/N had took a big risk that time, but she really wanted to send him just that special one, he often told her how much it made him a bit sad that the hugs and kisses were so limited, so she sent that one line, modifiying her voice just enough to be a bit out of her ordinary one.

She wasn’t as scared as before to meet Sirius, after so many days speaking to each other, she would dare to say they were close, both had confessed in their letter deep secrets and insecurities, and they trusted each other enough to be vunerable with one another, she almost asked him to meet in the astronomy tower.

But a few things were preventing her to do so ; the bet, she was a slytherin after all and wasn’t going to lose to a gryffindor; her insecurity, despite feeling better than before, a big parts of her still was terrified to the idea of meeting him as the person he has been writing to for weeks, she didn’t know how she would react; and finally, she has heard Sirius badly talked about slytherin a few times, and she didn’t want to ruin everything because of who she was, she was proud to be a slytherin despite the surprise of many people to discover which house she was in, but depise that she had let her feelings for Sirius get in the way and now very selfishly didn’t want to let that go.

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

The two months were soon over, and Sirius still didn’t know who his penpal was, he wanted to win the bet but didn’t know how to at this point, with the tests and essays they recently had, he didn’t took the time to search for her. He was planning on asking her in his next letter if she will revealed herself by the end of the bet, hoping with all his being for her to say yes.

He was now in potion, sitting next to Y/N, both were silently taking notes, as for once, Sirius decided to stay quiet the whole time, he had a bit of struggle with this potion and he needed to focus, not used to have difficulties in class.

Y/N saw his struggle and decided to talk to him. “Do you need help with that potion, Black ?”

The boy looked at her for a few second and sighed, “Yeah, that one’s a bitch, can I burrow your notes ?”

Y/N hesitated a bit, not knowing if she should, she knew he could read her handwriting but didn’t know if he would put two and two together. She decided to hand them to him, after all she proposed her help and it would impolite to stop now, and she told herself he will probably not recognise it, some handwriting could look alike without being from the same person.

Sirius gave her a greatful smile, “Thanks Y/L/N”, she gave back a smile “No problem”, she put the rest of her stuff away and spoke without thinking, “Have a nice day Sirius !” and she got out.

Sirius immidiatly froze, was that ..?

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Taglist : @blackpinkdolan @jentaculargums @bruxa0007 @deathkat657 @theincredibledeadlyviper

#sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black #an anonymous lover

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 5 years ago

Note

what do you think of aang's comments in "the southern raiders" and what they meant to katara? I watched that episode recently with my sister who dislikes atla, and assessed similar things to what certain people of the fandom are saying: "aang didn't understand her", "aang was pushing his beliefs onto her", "it didn't seem like he knew her", etc. she was more fair than those people of course because she did say it was realistic that he'd be so worried since she recognizes that he does love her.

Honestly those arguments are all,, tired. They’re outdated. They’re boring. They’re wrong. They’re a result of a fundamental misunderstanding of A:TLA canon. This isn’t to say that those who genuinely, truly believe these arguments are terrible people (obviously not lmao), but somewhere along the line they had a seed planted in their mind that posits them to have inherent dislike for Aang. And honestly? I just feel sorry for them, because not understanding and appreciating Aang means their A:TLA experience really can’t be that great. But I digress!

“aang didn’t understand her”

Oh, what’s the post? Right - “Fandom once again forgets that Aang is the sole survivor of genocide.” Aang understands better than anyone else what Katara is going through*. There is a direct parallel between Aang finding Gyatso’s skeleton and Katara finding Kya’s body. I’m not going to sit here and argue which was more traumatizing (literally can’t stand when people do that) because you can’t quantify grief like that, but it cannot be denied that Aang has experienced something incredibly similar to what Katara has gone through: the loss of a close parental figure followed by finding said parent’s corpse. Not only that, but Aang and Katara both share a unique sense of helplessness intertwined with their grief regarding their parental figures’ deaths. For Katara, there are the questions of:

- what if I wasn’t a waterbender

- what if I had run a little faster

- what if I had fought against Yon Rha back then

All leading to “Could I have saved her?” For Aang, there are the questions of:

- what if I wasn’t the Avatar

- what if I hadn’t run away

- what if I had stayed to fight the Fire Nation back then

All leading to “Could I have saved him?” Both of them feel incredibly guilty on a personal level about the death of their parental figures, thus blaming themselves. Katara tries to push it off onto Zuko/the Fire Nation and Aang tries to suppress it entirely, but ultimately it is revealed how closely they hold responsibility to their chests. For Aang, it comes out in “The Storm.” For Katara, it comes out in “The Southern Raiders.” So, bullshit that Aang doesn’t understand Katara! He understands her grief better than anyone.

Also, many, many people have gone into this before, but Aang’s example of Appa being stolen was not callous/rude/etc. Appa was the last living piece of his culture. Appa is not “just a pet.” People who insist so are the actual ones being callous, not Aang. And, as Aang himself says, “How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?” Aang has experienced more hurt at the hands of the Fire Nation than anyone. There’s a great meta here that delves into Aang’s experiences as the sole survivor of genocide. I don’t understand how someone could acknowledge all that Aang has lost (read: he has lost everything) and then argue that he doesn’t understand Katara’s pain. Like, what? Do you have no sense of empathy?

But most importantly, from Katara herself: “Thanks for understanding, Aang.” She says this after her initial dismissal of him. So take it from the source, my friend - Katara believed Aang understood her. Who are we to argue?

*The only exception perhaps being Sokka, since Kya was indeed his mother, too, but it is worth noting that Sokka did not have the same experience of seeing Kya’s dead body or feeling the intense self-blame that Katara did.

“aang was pushing his beliefs onto her”

It is SO funny how those SAME people have NO problem with everyone in the Gaang telling Aang to kill Ozai the finale! Y’know, when they were disregarding the pacifistic beliefs of his people in exchange for emphasizing their, ahem, more aggressive ones? SO funny! I’m laughing SO hard right now!

Heavy sarcasm, in case it wasn’t obvious. They’re hypocrites and they know it.

But, more importantly, Aang was not pushing his beliefs onto her? At all?? Tell me where in the episode Aang:

- refused to let Katara go after Yon Rha

- told Katara what she was doing was wrong

- told Katara that HE was right and that SHE needed to listen to HIM

Here’s the thing: none of that ever happened! Not only does Aang accept that Katara needs to go (see: “I wasn’t planning to [stop you]. This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man.”), but he allows her to take Appa on her journey. Appa, the last living piece of his culture. Aang has incredible trust in Katara, and his choice to send Appa with her (essentially sending a piece of himself with her) demonstrates this fact clearly. That should end the discussion point blank, but I guess I’ll break down the lines people seem to have issues with:

1) “It’s okay, because I forgive you. [Pauses.] That give you any ideas?”

Honestly, the criticism this line gets is laughable to me. People use it to argue that Aang was being disrespectful to Katara’s feelings and?? I hate to break it to them, but you HAVE to look at the context a line is in if you’re going to judge it. That is Analysis 101: Context is Everything. This moment is used to break tension. That type of scenario is an entire literary trope, okay? A:TLA did not invent it! Shakespeare literally did it in Romeo and Juliet when he had Peter argue with musicians about something stupid after Juliet’s “death.” The whole point is to break tension before more serious scenes. In R&J, it is before the lovers kill themselves, and in A:TLA, it is before Katara leaves with Zuko to confront Yon Rha. That’s why there’s another moment just like it at the end of that scene! Y’know, Sokka asking to borrow Momo for no reason? It breaks tension! It’s a moment of respite before weighty scenes! It’s incredibly common in every form of media! This is what no Humanities classes did to some of y’all, I swear to God. So yeah, Aang was not disrespecting Katara’s feelings with this. It’s just a tension-breaker. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news for those who devoutly believed it was a sign of Aang being a Horrible Person. You were wrong, ain’t no big thing, go drink some water and stay hydrated okay darlings?

2) “I don’t think so. I think it’s about getting revenge.”

Um, a major point of “The Southern Raiders” is that Aang was right about Katara’s initial drive to face Yon Rha? It was a quest for revenge? Katara literally bloodbends, an ability she was forced to learn and essentially feels cursed to bear? Also, nowhere here does Aang tell Katara she was a horrible person for feeling angry and wanting revenge. He simply brings her attention to the reality that what she’s currently seeking is revenge. He’s worried about her. She’s his best friend! He loves her! He doesn’t want her to kill Yon Rha because he knows that for Katara to have blood on her hands from a revenge quest would hurt her tremendously. (As a matter of fact, the audience knows - or should know - this, too.) So, sorry that Aang expresses concern for her? Apparently not wanting your best friend to murder someone is forcing your beliefs onto them? Damn. Y’all are harsh these days.

3) “The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.” // “Katara, you do have a choice: forgiveness.” // “No, it’s not. It's easy to do nothing, but it’s hard to forgive.” // “But when you do, please don’t choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

I put all the forgiveness quotes together since people tend to complain about them as a whole. But like,, I really don’t see how this is Aang forcing his beliefs onto her? He asks her to choose forgiveness. And just speaking plainly: on an emotional level, it is better for someone to forgive than to murder. Killing someone is not easy, even if you hate that person with every bone in your body, and it will mentally scar whomever does it. Y’all know this! It’s obvious! I shouldn’t have to say it! But Aang knows this, too, and thus he doesn’t want to see Katara kill Yon Rha and perhaps kill a part of herself in the process. Katara is not a killer. I’m not arguing about whether she could have or even if she wanted to, because you know what, she admits she was tempted, but Katara is not a killer. An FMA quote is very fitting here:

“Your hands weren’t meant to kill. They were meant to give life.”

Why should Katara have to live with a man’s murder on her conscience, especially when his death would be a result of fruitless revenge? The answer is simple: she shouldn’t, and Aang doesn’t want her to. Katara is a warrior. A healer. A leader. A friend. But not a killer.

Anyways. Back to my point: Aang is not forcing his beliefs onto her here. He’s offering her another option, the option she ends up choosing, albeit she extends forgiveness to Zuko instead. And Prince Holier-Than-Thou (jk love you Zuzu) acknowledges it himself: “You [Aang] were right about what Katara needed.” Aang didn’t force anything on Katara here. He reminded her of her choices, he reminded her about the consequences of revenge, and he reminded her about the value of forgiveness. Never once did he tell her she had to forgive Yon Rha or else. And when it came down to it, he stepped aside, and he let her go, because he knew this was a journey she needed to take. So… He actually did the exact opposite of forcing his beliefs onto her! He respected her feelings and let her make her own decision! Seriously, how many pairs of anti-Aang goggles do people have to wear to genuinely believe otherwise??

“it didn't seem like he knew her”

Ohhhhhh my God this is SO close to one of the actual points of the episode! So close!! It’s not that Aang didn’t know her; it’s that Katara wasn’t acting like herself. I’ve talked about it before here and here, but Katara was incredibly consumed by her emotions in “The Southern Raiders.” It’s why she ignores Zuko the entire time before they leave on Appa! It’s why she makes that callous comment to Sokka about their mother that we know she never would have made normally! She is drowning in grief about her mother’s absence, guilt regarding her mother’s death, and anger about Zuko (she still does not trust him, and yet he can lead her to her mother’s killer; I don’t know about y’all, but that is really freaking difficult to reconcile). So when Aang compares her to Jet, it’s not a far-off description. She is acting like Jet, because she’s consumed by grief and hurt and anger and she’s not acting like herself. It is instrumental, too, that Katara isn’t acting like herself, because it makes her decision not to pursue revenge and instead offer a second third chance to Zuko even more profound. “I’m proud of you,” Aang tells her, and damn! The audience is, too! I was incredibly proud of her for finding her way out of what can be a bottomless spiral for some people. So again, it wasn’t that Aang didn’t know her. It was that Katara wasn’t acting like herself (I guess meaning… no one knew her?).

In conclusion, literally all of these anti-Aang arguments regarding TSR are exhausting and so easily disprovable. The fact that they somehow manage to live on is evidence that people just want excuses to hate Aang, plain and simple. Like, it’s so easy to just say you don’t vibe with his character? You don’t have to pull BS excuses to “justify” it? I don’t vibe with Ty Lee as much as I do other characters (although I have recently grown much more fond of her; bless the Renaissance for more Mailee content, even if some of it is just a Zukka byproduct), but y’all don’t see me twisting her sacrifice in “Boiling Rock” to make it seem like it was selfish or something (mostly because, spoiler alert, it wasn’t). Like, you can say Aang isn’t your favorite and move on instead of using the same boring rhetoric over and over and over that just makes it look like you lack critical thinking. :/

TL;DR - Aang’s comments to Katara in “The Southern Raiders” came from a place of concern. A place of wisdom. A place of love. And honestly? I think Katara realizes this, and she’s grateful to him all the more for it.

#if y'all even mention zuko on this post i will stomp you to death with my hooves. this is not about who understood katara better!!#this is solely addressing bs anti aang arguments #aang #katara #atla #avatar the last airbender #adding line break after i post btw!!#atla meta #atla analysis #the southern raiders #yon rha #amy answers #amy analyzes #queenaleesbiggestfan-writes

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pugh-bug · 4 years ago

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Scott Lang x reader slow burn Chapter 10

Warnings: none really just more angst and swearing but less than last week because i wanted to do a more light hearted chapter (this is just that by my standards lmao) I hope you enjoy … there is going to be smut VERY soon

The last week had been harder to manage than any ‘villain’ or threat to humanity that your friends had faced. Of course the physical and global destruction was lacking but your heart felt broken beyond repair. It had been a fucking disaster from start to finish and was not getting much better.

‘Come on Y/N, it’ll be okay.’

But Thor was wrong, it wasn’t. You had had to form a set of strict rules to get through each day. Number 1 (pretty obvious) :avoid Scott like the plague. Number 2: drink less and Number 3: try and stop crying over IT. None of them were proving easy and not at all fun but they did make you look a little less unhinged to your friends. Of course Thor and Tony knew how upset you were with Nat not far behind. The constant sympathetic ‘poor you’ looks were growing patronising and getting old. If they couldn’t treat you like a stable person how could you act like one?

Contact with Scott had been incredibly brief and tense to say the least. You just missed him. Who were you meant to fool around with? Who was going to hold your hand while you slept or make fun of Parker or drive you home to keep you safe? When you were alone and closed your eyes you could hear him: ‘I’m sorry if I’ve lead you on in anyway.’ But by Friday it didn’t make you cry anymore to recall it. It wasn’t sad it was frustrating. ‘Lead you on’ of course he’d lead you on and you wanted to call him out for it. Call him what your heartbroken self wanted to, a-

‘Prick!’

It was Monday: Thor’s weekly game night with ‘Noobmaster69’ and he was losing. Horrifically. Asgardians weren’t exactly fond of losing and there was, you had to admit, a lot of joy in witnessing someone so powerful fail so badly. Well you had to find relief in something. Although you did have one thing to be proud of: finally washing your greasy hair only to hear Peter singing as he got out. And you didn’t poke any fun at him because Scott wasn’t there to hear.

After deciding to stay on the couch with Thor, watching him being competitive, you continued your silent ‘soul searching’ that was so tiresome. You had become an expert on analysing every Scott interaction you had and without new ones to ‘study’ you were spent. Bored. Bored of waiting for nothing. Occasionally, you’d press pause on your self pitying to smile at Thor. Being so preoccupied with Scott had made you more neglectful of his friendship. All of your friendships really. You couldn’t remember the last long conversation you’d had with Tony that wasn’t about Scott.

‘Die! Die! Oh come o-ah Scott!’

You tried not to turn to look but it was unavoidable. Scott was stood beside the tv all of a sudden, looking dishevelled and out of place. It had been torture not to ask anyone and everyone what exactly he’d been doing the last week. ‘He’s out.’ ‘No ones seen him much today.’ ‘I dunno, maybe he’s partying.’ Fucking torture to hear. Although it was probably best he was out doing ‘things’ and away from you. At least you wouldn’t have to try and make eye contact without fighting tears. Except for that night. Of course he had to be in that night.

‘Thor…Y/N.’ Scott was almost worse than you for subtlety, his green eyes darted from Thor gaming happily to your pained eyes. And his were pained too. There was a guiltiness pressing down on him but Nat would have thought that was good. You didn’t want to be awkward around him or continue this ‘avoiding each other at all costs’ thing so you tried to end it the best way you knew how.

‘Did you hear Peter’s singing?’

It was the first thing you’d said to Scott that wasn’t ‘er’ or ‘hi’ in so long you could see relief wash over him. And you felt it wash over you in a smooth satisfying wave because his reply was:

‘Yes! It was Britney, so I had to listen.’

You both laughed, still feeling the need to to stay on opposite sides of the room for safety reasons. Thor looked amused for a moment but was invested in his game. Sweet.

‘Well,’ you leaned across the couch craving your neck closer to Scott. ‘If you like Britney maybe we should have a 00s themed party!’ Was it out of pocket? Probably. Did it feel forced to say? Yes. Did Scott look confused? Absolutely but he played along for both your sakes. It felt silly to suddenly be discussing pop star icon: Britney Spears to the man you’d been crying so heartedly over for so long. You couldn’t help feeling that he knew this wasn’t the two of you going back to ‘normal’. Not really. You had admitted far too much to ever have a ‘normal’ friendship. However it was a start.

‘Can the two of you discuss whatever nonsense Britney Spears is somewhere else?’ Thor looked as annoyed as you could be over something unimportant. Still the two of you shared a look meaning ‘Let’s leave him to it’ and walked together out of the living room. It didn’t hit you that this was the first time you had been alone with Scott since the car ‘incident’ until Nat saw you both and walked away.

‘Wow.’ You both scoffed at his strong words against Britney. ‘To speak of our lord and saviour in such a distasteful way.’ Scott dramatically put his hand on his heart and ‘fell’ backwards in agreement. ‘The horror!’ He exclaimed before you both chuckled.

‘Hey guys?’ It was Peter and he looked confused at the sight of you and Scott laughing. But who wouldn’t be after all the avoiding? You were just as confused as a participant. ‘Everyone’s kind of busy and I wanted to see B-‘

‘Back to the future playing in IMAX yes I’ll take you.’ The look in Peter’s face- bless him- he looked so pleased. Such a child. ‘Pff.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a dad Scott had just become (and the twisted part of you brain did find it a bit hot).

‘There’s a showing at 2:45-‘

‘Right. Well we’ll go to that one.’

‘Um,’

Whilst Scott was buying tickets he didn’t notice Peter’s anxious eyes flitting towards you in hopes you would offer to come. The truth was you didn’t know if one brief Britney discussion guaranteed an invite. It didn’t seem like enough but Peter looked concerned for you. Did he not want to be alone with Scott or did he not want you to feel left out? Which was it?

Your eyes moved from Peter’s to Scott’s but he chose not to give a verbal response so you let it be. ‘Enjoy yourselves,’ you smiled, overly enthusiastic as you walked away backwards. Something that didn’t escape your notice as you left was the sign of relief from Peter. There was your answer.

Mirroring Peter you let out a sign of your own, that Scott probably heard, and went to your room- but not before passing Wanda. ‘What’s wrong?’ Before you could think of a response she grinned and grabbed your hand. ‘Tony’s taking us to his pool. He’s had it redone- come on let’s go, come with us.’ Hmm. Swimming. Interactive. But she looked so excited- bless her- so you caved and returned her smile before getting changed.

Less than 15 minutes later you were sat in the passenger seat of Tony’s favourite car (you’d called shotgun of course) listening to Eminem. Poor Wanda was crammed in between Sam and Thor behind you, probably wishing she had just flown there. ‘Sam why couldn’t you have flown- to make room for Wanda?’ You asked. ‘I’m not gonna risk getting them wet. Do you know how difficult they are to re-‘

‘Look at her she’s squished though.’

‘I’ve not had enough sleep for this.’

‘I’m not arguing with you I’m just say-‘

‘Children children!’ Tony commanded the car, to no ones surprise. ‘This is not about flying. This is about getting Y/N to cheer up and for all of you to appreciate my architectural skills.’ He was driving over the speed limit but who was going to tell Tony to slow down? The man was overly caffeinated and overly theatrical.

Another 15 minutes later and you were in the ridiculously fancy changing rooms Tony had had built. ‘Why did you build so many if it’s private?’ You yelled over the door.

‘It was a strange week! Inspiration struck!’

Thor seemed to be struggling with the term ‘modesty’ because-

‘Jesu- fuck! PUT PANTS ON!’

The sound of Wanda being flashed by a God was enough to make you almost pee from laughing. They were all such children. That was a clear explanation for why you had admired Scott as soon as you’d met him. Yes he was silly but he’d actually been married. He was mature in other ways. You tried not to picture him in the cinema with Peter because what did you have to be jealous of? Peter was still dating MJ as far as you knew and Scott saw him the same way you did. You still wanted him there with you all even if it was going to be uncomfortable.

And then sadness clung itself to you like a rope with no slack. You forgot why you were even where you were in the first place. Why had you come? Oh for Wanda. But Tony said this was to cheer you up? You’d even forgotten how to swim properly, it had been so long. It had been too long since anything normal.

Tags: @supraveng @thottio @wandamaximoffshoe @aliceblxck @merleisapartygod

#marvel #marvel fandom #paul rudd #scott lang #antman #antman x y/n #antman x reader #Scott Lang x reader #Scott Lang slow burn #slow burn #angst #Scott Lang angst #Scott Lang x y/n #marvel x y/n #scott lang fluff #avengers

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