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bakugosbratx · 1 year

Note

just discovered your blog and i’m in love~! since reqs are open, would you please consider doing a yandere kyoujuro x fem (or gn) reader scenario where kyo’s super possessive/jealous after being paranoid that his father is into them?! (or maybe he is?!? my twisted heart defers to your genius!) sank you!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 — Yandere Kyoujuro Rengoku x Fem! Reader

Warning: NSFW 18+ Content. Yandere, abduction, mind breaking, abuse, voyeurism, cursing, paranoia, cnc, some noncon, sexual relations in front of father, degrading, etc.

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long but I hope it was worth it. My mind went crazy writing this haha.

Words: 1.8k

Tags: @nymphoheretic @thisbicc @renhoeku @cherkujo @ovarysnake23 @uknyverse

Not beta read

“Oh, my beautiful flame.” Kyoujuro hums as he enters your shared bedroom, sending chills dancing down your spine as you await for him to approach from behind. You were applying your favorite color lipstick that would match well with his outfit of choice. Your desired taste was not on the menu when it came to your life now. You learned to accept it over time. His fashion taste was bearable, though, it reminded you of your place: beneath him.

Today was a special day; you get to meet his family. You have built up curiosity of Kyoujuro’s upbringing over the months you have been stuck with him. A man with a flame in his heart still manages to have ice in his veins. It was disturbing.

His large calloused palm found refuge on your shoulder, the heat sending a breeze upon your bones. You dared to meet his eyes in the mirror, attempting to mask the terror that lied within your pupils.

“Y-Yes, Kyoujuro?” You replied within a shaky breath, alerting Kyoujuro that you were still drowning in fear. He hated and loved it all at once.

“You look magnificent, my dear, but we must get going. My father and brother should not be kept waiting much longer.” Kyoujuro stated, keeping his gaze upon yours in the mirror. His words were calm and innocent, but his irises held dominance and control that dared you to try and make a fool out of him tonight in front of his family. You would never see the light of day again.

Nodding, you provide a false smile. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Your hand laces with your captor, his vigorous grip reminding you that even without chains upon your limbs, you are still within his shackles. You are always under his grasp and one thing Kyoujuro will refuse to do is ever let you go.

Approaching the Rengoku residence, Senjuro is quick to run out and greet his older brother. “Brother, you have finally arrived!” He beamed, a bright innocent smile glowing in the sunset. He looked just like his older brother. His locks were yellow with red tips, red eyes with yellow on the outside, and a smile that was soft yet sickening.

“‘Bout damn time.” A deep, drunken voice exited the home and into view. Kyoujuro is quick to push you behind him in a protective manner. Usually, that would annoy you, but this time, you appreciated it.

Shinjuro was a tall man, aggression swallowing him whole. You finally saw where Kyoujuro got his evil side from. His polite ways must come from his mother that is no longer here. You didn’t dare ask questions, but it was all starting to make sense now.

“My apologies, father. We were running a bit behind.” Kyoujuro apologized, his stance turning even more stiff when he noticed his father’s eyes lingered onto you.

Taking another sip of his sake, he gestured towards the inside of his home. “Dinner’s ready. Don’t let it get cold now.”

Kyoujuro led you up the stairs, Shinjuro’s pupils beaming upon you as you walked by. He mumbled something under his breath that wasn’t clear, but this sent Kyoujuro into high alert.

Sitting down around the dining area, Shinjuro sat at the head of the table. “Dinner smells lovely.” You compliment, earning a warning glare from Kyoujuro, but a less stiffened expression from Shinjuro. That was the only ‘thank you’ you were going to get out of him.

Starting off with the miso soup and white rice, you see where Kyoujuro got some of his cooking skills. Luckily, Kyoujuro has improved and made decent meals since you have been in his care.

Still, the meal was still somewhat edible and you were happy to be out of the house. Senjuro was the one to break the silence by flooding his brother’s ears about everything he wanted him to know. It was a very cute sight to witness.

“Maybe after dinner, I can show you some of my skills! I have gotten better with my sword, big brother!” Senjuro raved, not even noticing the way Shinjuro was staring you down, your spine stiff. Kyojuro is quick to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him to show ownership.

“I would love to see it!” Kyojuro smiled, his grip around your waist tightening due to his father. You were not fond of Shinjuro, but you did think that Kyojuro was overreacting. His father is just putting up a harsh front, right? And maybe the seductive eyes hidden behind all that fire gaze was just your imagination mixed with Kyojuro’s paranoia.

This is all a huge misunderstanding, right?

Dinner carried on, Senjuro chatted his older brother’s ear off about any and everything. While Kyojuro gave his brother his full attention, his arm remained snaked around your waist and he was sure to watch you out of the corner of his eyes. Even with the protection you had and the evilness of Kyojuro’s glare, Shinjuro’s eyes still lingered onto you. You could not help, but squirm under the intense pressure.

Kyojuro noticed your discomfort, but when he opened his mouth to speak, his little brother chimes in, “big brother! I’m finished with dinner, let’s go outside—“

Senjuro grabbed hold of Kyojuro’s hand and practically dragged him outside. He was quite amazed by how strong his brother has gotten over the years. Besides, a promise is a promise. Kyojuro always kept his word, especially to those he held close.

You have mixed emotions when it comes to Kyojuro. He was familiar to you now that you have been captured for so long. You also felt safe from the dangers the world poses. Kyojuro was sure to remind you daily that nowhere is safe. The only true safe place is with him and him only. Now, that your safety is gone, you feel vulnerable, the predator gazing right at you.

The silence was thick and still as Shinjuro examined you, drinking his Sake. You were taught not to speak unless given permission to do so and in all honesty, you did not have much to say to this man.

“What are you doing with my boy?” Shinjuro finally muttered out, catching you off guard. “W-What?” You stammered, not believing your ears. “You deaf or somethin’? I said,” Shinjuro stood up, placing his hands on the table as he narrowed his gaze, “what are you doing with my boy,” he cupped your face, “when you should be with me?”

The calloused touch sent chills skipping down your spine. Kyojuro was right this whole time, his sick father did like you and now you are all alone with him. “I-I love Kyojuro.” You mumbled out, barely above a whisper. The fire that ignited in Shinjuro’s eyes worried you.

“Lies!” He exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table. A small gasp leaves you, fear written all over you. Though you were lying about having love for Kyojuro, you were obligated to be loyal to the man. You sure as hell was not going to cheat on him with his father.

Taking another sip of his sake, Shinjuro towered over you. Pulling you up, he bent you over the table. You attempted to remove yourself from the situation, but Shinjuro was obviously much stronger. There was no way to compete with this monster.

“Please don’t do this! Kyojuro! Help!” You cried, hoping the one person you despise would be your savior. Shinjuro pushed your face into the dark wooden table. “Shut it!” The older man growled as he began lifting up your dress.

Just when you thought it was about to be hell, a familiar voice is heard from behind you, “what do you think you’re doing with my girl?” Kyojuro asked, lowly. Shinjuro was not afraid of his son, but the sword that was pressed to his neck made him nervous.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Shinjuro retorts, his voice not sounding as gruff as usual. Kyojuro let out a condescending chuckle. You were still held down so you could not witness the scene behind you, but all you know is that you are safe.

“Unhand her.” Kyojuro demanded, pressing the blade more to his father’s windpipe. Shinjuro contemplated for a second but respected his son’s wishes. You are quick to get up and give Kyojuro thankful eyes.

“If you ever touch my girl again, I will not be afraid to decapitate you right where you stand.” Kyojuro warned, putting his sword down so you can run into his arms. “Oh, Kyojuro! Thank you for coming to save me!” You beamed, snuggling your face into his muscular chest. Kyojuro placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Big brother!” Senjuro called as he entered the house, oblivious to what just occurred. Kyojuro hid his anger and as always, had a bright smile. “Go to your room, Senjuro. I have something to discuss.” He stated.

“But, we were—“ Senjuro pouted, tugging at Kyojuro’s heart strings. He walked over to his little brother, ruffling his hair. “I promise once we are done we can do whatever you want, okay?”

Senjuro smiled, hugging Kyojuro tight before running to his room and closing the door. You were nervous about what was about to go down, but nothing could prepare you for Kyojuro bending you over the table like you just were moments before. “K-Kyojuro, what are you—“

Lifting up your dress, his hand rubbed your exposed ass since he always made you wear thongs. “Teaching my father a valuable lesson on who you belong to.”

You did not even have time to protest. All you felt was his large thick cock entering your tight pussy, your moans immediately falling from your lips as they always do. All Shinjuro could do was stare in disbelief, disgust, and horror as his son fucked you in front of him.

“See this?” Kyojuro lifted your face up by your hair so your blurry vision as well as mewl expressions could be seen, “this pussy belongs to me. I’m the only man that makes her feel this good.”

You could not recall what was said as Kyojuro put all his anger and stress into your pussy. The wet sounds as well as moans echoed in the kitchen. If Shinjuro even thought about leaving the area, Kyojuro would be quick to stop him. This is what he gets for trying to invade you the way he did. Only Kyojuro claims this cunt and with each demand, “tell him who you belong to.”

“You, Kyojuro. I belong to you.” You whimper, being too cockdrunk to even realize what you were saying, but you knew the words were true. As long as Kyojuro is alive, you shall not belong to anyone else.

And even Shinjuro knows that now.

©bakugosbratx

#yandere kyojuro rengoku #yandere rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kny kyojuro #kny x reader #kny x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #kyoujurou rengoku smut #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x you #rengokukyoujorou

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supersizemeplz · 3 years

Text

We Meet Again

Incubus!Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Female

Another #supersizedfic Halloween fic. I know, I know. It isn’t October yet but I wanted this to jumpstart my writings for it. I definitely want to push out more creepy/scary fics around that month. Let’s call this practice. Also, I’m calling him an incubus but I’m not sure if he fits that category fully in this. Idk. Enjoy!

Song suggestion: Algorhythm by Childish Gambino

"Come on down to Moreen's Super Savin-" The commercial was clipped short as the screen went black. It had to be the millionth time it'd came on in the past two weeks and it was becoming repetitive. The young woman sat the remote on the glass coffee table before she stood. Her adoring pet took that as her cue to hop down as well and follow her owner close.

"How about a snack, Mina? We deserve that right?" She spoke to the puppy as if she'd reply. Well she kind of did with a bark and shake of her tail. Sierra made her way to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. Only to be met with ice trays and frozen meats. Frowning a bit, she looked down to her animal companion.

"Looks like we're out, mamas." Closing the door, she made her way to the dining room table. Grabbing her keys from atop a local Moreen's Super Savings ad paper. She took a quick look in the hallway mirror and made a quick 180 to head up the stairs to her bedroom. "I guess I need something to cover up, huh."

Keys jingled in a hurried dance as she moved, sounding along with the calmed patter of the loyal four little paws. Out of the bedroom once she'd grabbed a hoodie, through the hallway, and down the stairs. Sierra slipped her braids into a bun atop her head, adjusting the silk headband that protected her edges.

Turning to the eager little bichon frise at her feet, she squatted to talk to the puppy. Mina. "Mommy will be back, ok? I'll get us some snacks from the store." She chuckled as Mina barked her reply. With a soft head rub, Mina turned away satisfied as she went back to play with her toys.

Locking the door behind her, Sierra made her way to her car. She was craving vanilla wafers and ice cream. The wind was a bit chilly as she got further from the house, picking up just a little. Fall was slowly making its way and she was amped for the holidays to start rolling in.

With a soft close of the car door, her right index finger pressed the start button to bring the car to life. The time on the radio read twenty minutes until ten o'clock which was just enough time for her to make it before the store's closing. Once she'd set the radio to a slow R&B jam, she was on her way.

A quick ten minute ride was all it took to reach the store since traffic was basically non-existent. Weird but not impossible. She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot without a second thought and turned off the car. "Out and in, two minutes." The words were a mumble as they left her lips, more so a reminder that the store would close soon and she needed not to slow poke.

"Welcome to Moreen's Super Savings." A lone cashier spoke to her as soon as she entered. She smiled with a polite greeting in reply before heading off to the frozen section. Her house shoes made little noise as she found the ice cream selection with ease. A glance to her watch showed she had eight minutes until closing. She had to hurry.

"Hi, how are you?" Her southern hospitality showed as she passed a man that occupied the aisle as well. Not really paying attention to any of his details. Her mission was ice cream, not a man. He gave a polite smile and simple reply, looking over to her once he heard her voice. From her quick glance, she could see his hands were empty though he seemed to be looking for a frozen dessert as well.

The moment between them came and went as she began her quick search once again. "Ah-ha." She spoke the small victory, grabbing the last personal sized vanilla blue bell pint. "Now to the cookies and then something for Mina." With a quick stride she went over two aisles to find the large variety of cookies.

Squatting down to look at the vanilla wafers on the bottom shelf, she saw someone standing at the end of the aisle out of her peripheral. She thought nothing of that as well until a weird feeling fell over her. And the figure was still there. Raising a brow, she looked over to where the figured stood. Or where it should've been. No one was there.

"Hmm." She gave a quick hum of confusion as she stood from her current position. With her choice of cookies in hand. Her head turned both ways to see if she was just imagining things and after seeing that no one was really there, she decided she was. A quick shoulder shrug ended the paranoid thought and she went on her way to get her last items. Coming to the end of the aisle, she stopped to look for the overhead sign to direct her to the pet aisle. Moreen's was kind of new to the town and she had only been here a total of three times, including now.

"Household, paper products, pets." She began her lengthy walk across the store, passing three aisles before she noticed that someone was mirroring her from the other end of the aisles. It could be ignored and pushed aside as a coincidence until she stopped to pretend that her sock needed adjusting. Only for the figure at the other end to stop as well. "What the hell?" She stood quickly to see who was the asshole sending her paranoia through the roof. She knew this store gave off weird vibes. Just as she looked up to see his face, the store went dark and its usual cheery pop songs went silent.

Her gasp was caught in her throat as her grip tightened on the old container of ice cream. She didn't even register the thought of it slowly attempting to escape its containment. Those big brown eyes of hers kept looking to the spot where the man had stood before the power cut.

"Shit." A short curse left her lips as the once frozen dessert made a mess of her hand. Giving one last glance to the spot, she slowly stepped backwards towards the registers before hurrying to it. Her eyes darted around the area to make sure she was still alone as she attempted to rid her hands of the sticky sweet. "There is no way they closed this damn store with me still inside. The cashier literally spoke to me when I walked in the door."

The door.

Sierra discarded the paper towel that was little help as she looked to the large glass double doors. Her exit. She almost scolded herself for getting so worked up, letting her fear of being in the dark affect her sense. Putting pep in her step, she made her way to the door with a quickness. A quick tug to the handle was supposed to ease her heart rate but it sent it soaring. Locked? Why in the hell is it locked? Oh no. She was trapped here, in the dark with her paranoia. Her back turned to press against the doors. "I just had to watch those damn scary movies today."

The dark aisles seemed to mock her as she scanned across them as quick as she could from where she stood. The light that came in from the windows of the store front could only reach so far. With a shivering hand, she fumbled to pull her phone from her pockets. "No, no, no!" She whisper yelled, holding the side buttons to try and make the screen come to life. Only to be met with the screen that told her that her phone was dead. "You were just on fifty percent. How the fuck could you be dead?"

A loud thud from her left caught her off guard, causing her to tense up and her phone to fall to the ground with a soft clap. She looked frantically to the direction of the noise as it's echo sent chills over her. "H-Hello?" Her words stuttered out as she slowly bent to pick up your phone. Maybe it's an employee? "I think you guys locked me in by accident.."

Still like a tree planted by the water, she didn't move. No one answered her call but she had an eerie feeling that she wasn't alone. "Come on, girl. You're stronger than this, remember what Dr. Hamina said.. Fears are nothing more than a state of mind. You're ok." Finally pulling her feet from the invisible glue that held them, she took a slow step forward. "There has to be an emergency door around here somewhere."

In the distance, just barely behind a faraway aisle, those four familiar red letters caught her eyes. "Exit." Hope sparked in her mind and she was happy to know there was another way out. The trick now was getting to the other side without being caught by the man that lurked in the shadows.

As if he'd known she'd thought of him, his voice surrounded her like a cloud. "Sierraaa. Don't be afraid of me, beautiful.." A sudden, single light cut on in the center of the aisles. Close enough to the back that she was directly across the supermarket from him. The soft buzz of the light could faintly be heard from where she stood. She squeezed her phone this time to cope with the fear piercing her as she took another step backwards towards the door.

"How do you know my name? W-Who are you?" She couldn't hide her fear if she wanted to. The waver of her voice gave it away and she hated that it. Because he chuckled at her. His back was to her and she could just make out him looking over his shoulder back at her. In an instant, the light cut out and it was darkness again before a different light popped on. This one was closer than the last but she still couldn't make him out fully. It was only his clothes that gave away his identity as the man that she'd spoken to on the ice cream aisle when she'd came in earlier.

"You don't remember me, sweetness?" He pretended to be offended, finally turning to reveal his face before the lights turned off. It popping back on with him closer. "All the nights we spent together during your college years, just as you were finding yourself. The nights we spent together.. in your dreams, sweetness." That name, that voice. That face.

"E-Erik?" His voice suddenly found its place in her mind. In those memories she'd locked away. "You're not real? H-How are you-? How did you-?"

She'd went through a weird patch in her early stages of youth and adulthood. Her grandmother had called it 'spirit soaring'. The gift ran through the women in her family, but she seemed to be the only one who couldn't keep her control of it. The first few times were innocent during her teen years with short trips around the home for just a minute. That soon crept up to her soul venturing around her neighborhood to see what night could bring. Snowballing into a faint obsession.

Her grandmother had warned her plenty times before of the addictions of her lucid dreaming. But she'd assured herself she could control it. Then she'd met Erik, the man of her dreams, literally. He'd resembled an actor she'd adored and that was his bait. Everything was perfect between the two until it would inch closer to her having to leave him. And he didn't like that, he wanted her company full time. He'd began to find ways to prolong her visits with him.

She began to notice that he wasn't under her control like everything else in her dreams. It honestly scared her. His demeanor changed and he became obsessed with her, finding ways to pull her under when she'd fall asleep. Passive aggressive and manipulating were his sudden traits. The last time she'd seen him ended with a scuffle. Scarring his left eye and her getting away by a hair.

"How I found you?" He spoke her thoughts, finally allowing her to see his face. That familiar scar was healed now. Making him look like a monster from some horror film. "I never lost you, sweetness. I've just waited patiently.. watching you from the shadows..." He took a step towards her, taking in the sweet scent of her fear. "Never..out of..reach."

The lights began to flicker and her adrenaline started pumping. Sierra began to rack her mind for an escape. The exit sign. It was the same escape route she'd use in her dreams long ago. Her feet started their movement before it fully registered in her mind. "Just make it to the door."

Erik's laughter filled the air around her, loud and mocking as she kept her quick pace. "You can run, but you can't hide. Escape is inevitable.." His words were chilling to hear. He really wanted her for himself.

The door seemed to be getting further away. Like she was running backwards. Tears began to gloss her eyes as she became weaker. Her legs were getting tired, but she pressed on. Just make it to the door. Still the door grew smaller with every attempt to reach it.

"Nooo!" Her knees hit the ground below her, meeting the cold tile floor. "It can't end like this.. Leave me ALONE!!" She screamed into the darkness. A last effort to fight her attacker.

The air was still once her echos silenced. Her eyes moved around as best they could in the darkness. The light above her popped on and the slow echo of footsteps in the darkness came towards her. She trembled where she sat, trying to crawl to the door as best she could.

Erik emerged from the darkness like a villain and stopped just before her. "When will you learn sweetness? Running will only tire you out.." He squatted before her, bringing a hand to her cheek to rid it of a stray tear. "Stay with me and we can spend this life together. Happily. Forever."

"This moment.." He spoke lowly, eyes glazed with lust. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long, my sweetness, to have you all to myself.." He rolled his shoulders as he hummed. "..And here we are. Alone, at last. Destined to be brought together as one."

Licking his lips, he held a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Isn't this what we once dreamed for? To be together forever?" His smile widened at her drooping eyes as they fought to stay open. "Well, I did. At least."

Her lips tried to speaks but all her energy was being drained. His voice began to sound distorted to her. She didn't want him to win this time. Have to..stay..awake. Darkness.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Can you hear me?" The voice was far off in the darkness, barely audible. Sierra fought to make out the words on her mind. Please don't let him win. Her body wouldn't listen to her in her struggle. She screamed internally at herself to wake up, wanting whoever was trying to talk to her know that she could hear them. It seemed to take forever. "There you go. Breathe."

She had shot up to a seated position, breathing heavily and looking around to see if he was still there. Her eyes held worry as she was only met with two E.M.T. and a small group of employees in the distance. The female E.M.T gave an assuring smile to ease her nerves, though it didn't help much. Though it did calm her a little to see a friendly face. "An employee found you laying in the aisle, nearly unresponsive. So we're gonna take you to the hospital and make sure everything is okay. Are you alright with that, hunny?"

All Sierra could do was nod, needing to get out of this damned store. She'd never come back here, that was for damned sure. The medical duo eased her onto a stretcher and gave her a water for her throat. Since she hadn't uttered a word since she came to. "We'll do a few check ups in the truck on the way there. You just let me know if anything feels weird suddenly or hurts. Ok..."

Tears blurred Sierra's vision as she was lifted into the ambulance, listening to the distant sounds of the medical personnel that assured that she would be just fine. Her mouth didn't open and their words didn't register as she looked forward. Not directly looking to the group of employees that watched her being taken away, but more so to what was behind them where he stood. He was relaxed as he watched her with a smirk. His words rung off in her head as she noticed him vanish behind the passing of employees heading back inside. "Alone, at last. Destined to brought together as one.." She was stuck with him forever.

#black reader #erik stevens #erik x reader #oneshot #halloween fic #supersize the spooky

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

@blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

Silence.

MM: oh no

Yeah. Fuck.

MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

Two hours. One text.

MM: >:/

Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

GL: good news?

MM: [image]

He opened it.

SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

What.

MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

No way. Siblings were wild.

GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

Miles took a long time to respond.

MM: yeah

Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

Oh, nice. That was a relief.

MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

GL: sure

[GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

That—

Sounded kind of nice?

GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl

That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

#fic #inimitable verse #blindspot #samuel chung #miles morales #ganke lee

189 notes · View notes

vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

I just wanna ask, and don’t get mad at me cause I’m genuinely curious, how do you stan Ron? Like, I like him, but he is definitely misogynistic (slut shaming Ginny, treating hermione like she owes him something and being mad that she kissed someone years before, always objectifying Fleur, and acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much). Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO

how do you stan Ron?

Like this:

OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM DID YOU SEE MY BABY OH MY GOD. WHEN HARRY’S ARM HAD GONE KABLOOIE BECAUSE OF LOCKHART AND HE. RON. HE WAS. HELPING HIM GET DRESSED???? OH MY GOD BABY???? HHHHNNNNGGGG. AND. AND. AND ALSO WHEN HE. OMG. WHEN HE WAS PUTTING FOOD ON HIS FRIENDS’ PLATES LIKE. MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT. AND THE WAY HE’S ALWAYS BLUSHING AND BEING EMBARRASSED AT THE SLIGHTEST PRAISE BUT ALSO HE’S SO DESPERATELY SEEKING IT BUT HE KNOWS HE CAN’T TAKE IT AND EEK EEK EEK THAT’S SO CUTE SOMEONE HOLD ME IT’S ADORABLE RONALD WEASLEY YOU ARE SO GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME IT’S ILLEGAL TO BE THIS CUTE!!!!

Ok and then.

he is definitely misogynistic

No. And here’s why.

slut shaming Ginny

Yes, that was wrong. And guess what, that’s also something he probably - scratch that, definitely - picked up from his mother. And also his brothers, recall how Fred and George too don’t like to see Ginny go around with boys. There’s also something to recall: Ron was there when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and learned later that it was because she had trusted an older guy. You seriously wouldn’t be paranoid about who your sister dates after that? It was wrong. Yeah. And he more than learned his lesson when Ginny clapped back by virgin-shaming him and basically told him that he was childish because he hadn’t have a relationship yet. So would that make Ginny sexist too? Or is it just for Ron?

treating hermione like she owes him something

..................... uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... when? When the fuck did anything like that happen?

He made a prat of himself at the Yule Ball, that much is obvious. But he didn’t tell her anything like “you should be with me” or didn’t insinuate anything of the sort. He was a jealous bitch but kept attacking Krum, not Hermione.

If you mean in sixth year when he treated her with “icy, sneering indifference” for the course of two weeks, yeah that was bad but that’s not “treating her like she owes him something”, the fuck?

being mad that she kissed someone years before

Yeah. I know. And that was bad, ooooh you got me to admit Ron did bad stuff, that’s what you want to see, right? And I reckon he was also mad that she hid it from him, and that he had to learn it from his sister of all people. We see Ron handles what he considers betrayals terribly. I have some meta discussing the possibility that he has a form of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.

always objectifying Fleur

Um... no, he doesn’t. He makes a stupid comment about her once in GOF then stops. Let’s also fucking remember that Fleur is a Veela, she literally makes guys stare at her as part of her powers!! I’m not blaming her because she’s literally born that way, but you can’t blame someone who is under magical compulsion either.

acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much

So tell me why he was friends with Hermione then?

Because Hermione wasn’t Emma Watson the super hawt sexy model goddess. Hermione was Mrs Generic. Until this once at the Yule Ball when she got the pretty princess perfect Mary Sue makeover but then stopped because she had to remain ~relatable uwu~.

Again. Ron made stupid sexist comments. But it’s actively shown that he doesn’t follow up on them. If he did indeed live by the motto “girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much”, explain to me why he wasn’t simping and drooling all over Padma Patil who is explicitly stated to be one of the prettiest girls at school when she was his date? Why exactly did he ignore her and was a miserable twat the whole evening instead of basking in the joy of having snagging a girl that was “worth it”? Well surprise, it’s because HE ACTUALLY ISN’T LIKE THAT AND WHAT HE SAYS IS MAYBE SHIT HIS “COOL OLDER BROTHERS” SAY AND HE THINKS THAT BY EXTENSION IT WOULD MAKE HIM COOL TO REPEAT IT. MIMETISM, THAT'S BASIC FUCKING HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY FOR FUCKING TODDLERS MY FUCKING GOD.

Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it,

............

...................................

...............................................................

so. so why. so why wouldn’t you. use that. as a reason. to stan him.

like.

fuck all the “hurr durr ron weasley the boy who made it out of the friendzone!!!!” bullshit, let’s start going with “Ron Weasley, the Boy who became a Man, and not one of those 'uugghh im such an alpha male’ ones but one that’s got the balls to say ‘hey love, I’ve got an idea, what if you kept doing that job you love and feel passionate about while I support you and do the majority of the childcare while also working a smaller job on the side so we’re never short on money’“

Why you people gotta be “yeah I like Ron BUTT” when you know full-well this fucking awful fandom will rake him over hot coals over the slightest mistake he does - worse, will actively go out of their way to interpret his positive moments in the most negative way possible??? Fuck off with that bullshit. Ron dared to say bad stuff omygah big deal, he was forgiven for it all and you’re just all cowards looking to feel “pure” by telling yourself “oh yeah but he was problematic once uwu”. FUCK. THAT. NOISE.

but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO

And IMO he’s not, funny how that works

So.

I guess it’s impossible to stan Ron because he was problematic uwu.

Ok.

Then I hereby decree that it’s impossible to stan Hermione Granger because:

“I’ll bet you wish you hadn’t given up Divination now, don’t you, Hermione?” asked Parvati, smirking. [...] “Not really,” said Hermione indifferently, who was reading the Daily Prophet. “I’ve never really liked horses.” She turned a page of the newspaper, scanning its columns. “He’s not a horse, he’s a centaur!” said Lavender, sounding shocked. “A gorgeous centaur . . .” sighed Parvati. “Either way, he’s still got four legs,” said Hermione coolly. “Any-way, I thought you two were all upset that Trelawney had gone?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 27

wow casual use of a racial slur yay!!! A+

And it’s also forbidden to stan Harry Potter either since:

It was raining hard now, and she was nowhere to be seen. He simply did not understand what had happened; half an hour ago they had been getting along fine. “Women!” he muttered angrily, sloshing down the rain-washed street with his hands in his pockets. “What did she want to talk about Cedric for anyway? Why does she always want to drag up a subject that makes her act like a human hosepipe?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 25

and

“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!” “What’s happened to you?” asked Harry, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare. “Oh, I’ve just escaped — I mean, I’ve just left Cormac,” she said. “Under the mistletoe,” she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her. “Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely. “I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —” “You considered Smith?” said Harry, revoked. - Half-Blood Prince

Victim-blaming! Nice Harry, nice. Always classy.

Ok, Ginny stanning is already cancelled because she virgin-shamed Ron, right, so who’s left, who’s left... ah yeah:

“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” - Half-Blood Prince

Selling date rape drugs proudly ouh là là. Bye Fred.

"Do they work?” she asked. “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question...” “...and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not selling them to our sister,” he added, becoming suddenly stern, “not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve...” “Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.

Assuming that only girls use love potions, and only on boys. Men never rape in JKR’s world, only women do, you heard it from George Weasley here folks, I’m just passing on the message. Ah and I hope you’re also starting the Fred And George Hate Club given how he’s also slut-shaming Ginny.

“What’s this?” “Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher,” said Fred. “Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?” “Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?” She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks. “Pygmy Puffs,” said George. “Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?” “I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. “They’re really cute!” “They’re fairly cuddly, yes,” conceded Fred. “But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?” Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil. “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”

Ah, good on you for defending yourself, Ginny, but remember, Ginny stanning is prohibited because she’s been problematic in the past and is gonna be problematic in the future and that’s baaaaaaad. Careful kids, don’t get ideas. It’s problematic to like people who’ve done problematic things.

So I guess nobody can like anything or anyone now. Sorry guys. Liking things is evil, what if the thing you liked had, OR USED TO HAVE, *gasp* flaws, can’t take that risk, ohmygah.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #hp fandumb #hp fandom #harry potter #harry potter series #fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george #ginny weasley #hermione granger #problematic content

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Still Breathing: Chapter 7

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: I realize how mean that cliffhanger was, so I offer you this chapter in apology. I *hope* it makes up for the torture that last line of chapter 6 created. I think this is my favorite chapter so far, so I really hope you enjoy!!!

Read on AO3 or below

“I’m falling in love with you.”

Stillness followed as those words left his mouth. They stood before one another, barely inches apart, and somehow it was still too much space. Her hand remained trapped in the confines of his, laying rest over his heart. It was as if the world around them stilled too. There was no noise, no wind, no movement, just the two of them there on her walkway, their hearts beating in sync with one another.

It took her a minute to process. At first, she wasn’t even sure if it was real — if the words that left his mouth weren’t just some figment of her imagination. Then she noticed the look on his face, the firm set of his jaw, and the glimmer in his eyes, and it was all enough to assure her that it was real.

She released her hand from his grasp, reaching up to cradle his face. He closed his eyes with the touch, his hands finding her waist, pulling her even closer against him. It was the type of touch and intimacy that was unfamiliar for them, yet it felt like a habit they’d practiced every day. She raised up, ready to let everything go, the thought of his lips against hers the only thing on her mind. Then, he removed his hands from her waist and brought them to rest on her forearms, pushing her away gently.

“You’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” he told her, a pang of regret in his voice.

She released the breath she was holding, dropping her forehead against his chest as she let out a confounded, “I know.”

“Trust me, I want this, I just want it when we both have a clear state of mind,” he told her, and she pulled away so that she could look up into his eyes. His level of honor and restraint only made it harder for her not to jump him right then. Though as difficult as it was to admit, she agreed. She wasn’t so happy about it in that moment, but she knew the future and sober version of herself would appreciate their prudence.

“You know, you ruined my surprise,” she whispered as her hands dropped from his face to his collar, fidgeting with it for a moment before resting against his chest.

He cocked his head at her, his left brow raising to voice his lack of understanding.

“That thing I needed to tell you earlier… I was going to say I’m falling in love with you too.”

He bit his bottom lip to smother the smile that broke out with her words. He then grabbed her hand from his chest, slowly raising it up to leave a kiss on the top. Her eyes fluttered closed, melting at the sensation of his lips against her skin. God was she regretting those last few shots of tequila.

“Goodnight, Hailey,” he said as his lips pulled away from her hand, a low gruff in his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“Goodnight, Jay,” she told him, grudgingly pulling away from his grasp.

She turned and walked up to her front door, turning around when she got there to see he was watching her every move.

She wasn’t just falling in love with him, she was nose-diving, like she had been shoved from a precipice with no warning. Hearing him say those words back only made it worse, giving her that feeling of falling all over again. Though, as enraptured as it made her, it also scared her half to death. She chose to push those fears aside for the time being. They were falling for one another, and that was the only thing that seemed to matter.

— — — —

“Upton! You coming to Molly’s tonight?” a voice echoed through the small locker room, startling her as she shoved the last of her things into her bag. When she closed her locker door, Adam was standing behind it with a look of anticipation on his face. Kim stood behind him with a similar look, both of them eagerly waiting for her response.

“I’m sorry, I have plans,” she told them. She had to force a sad tone, trying her best to keep the smile from breaking away at the thought of said plans.

Not even the hangover Hailey had woken with the morning after the confession was enough to dampen her mood. The first thing she saw when she woke was a text from him.

Good Morning, please don’t work late tonight. We have plans.

And don’t even ask, it’s a surprise ;)

She spent the rest of the day staring at the clock, and to her delight, the case wrapped early.

She slugged her bag over her shoulder as she moved to exit the locker room. Kim and Adam followed her movements, keeping their eyes on her as she kept her stare straight ahead.

“C’mon, it’s your last few days of desk duty. That’s something worth celebrating. Also, you’re starting to give me a complex. I’m thinking maybe you just don’t like us,” Adam said, the playful twitch in his voice making her chuckle.

“Shut up. You know I love you guys, I just… have plans,” she said, nervously trying to avoid having to explain exactly what her plans were, or rather, who her plans were with.

“Uh huh. Are we ever going to get to meet these plans?” Kim questioned, her inquisitive look implying the double meaning of the word.

“I- I don’t even know what that means,” Hailey laughed out, shaking her head as she felt her cheeks burn.

“Oh, but I think you do,” she said, Adam’s head now snapping in her direction. Hailey opened her mouth to object, but Kim cut her off.

“Please, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your face lights up when your phone buzzes. I’ve seen it for weeks, I guess I just figured you would’ve told us by now,” she shrugged.

“You know, now that you say it, I’ve noticed that too,” Adam butted in.

“Hm, maybe it’s about time you both make detective then,” Hailey said sarcastically, pushing the door for the bullpen open as they descended the stairs into the lobby.

The department wasn’t as big as it seemed. Hailey had come to learn everyone was connected in one way or another, so revealing anything could mean inadvertently breaking her promise to Jay. She found it best to avoid the subject in any way she could, which meant avoiding even the idea of him when it came to talking to anyone in the CPD.

“Why don’t you invite him out tonight? We’d love to meet him,” Adam proposed.

She tried to come up with an excuse, and she was grateful when her thoughts were cut short.

“You three, come here,” Trudy instructed. They shared a look between one another before descending the rest of the stairs and coming to lean against her desk.

“Little birdie tells me you’re back in the field soon,” Trudy said leaning over her desk as she directed her attention to Hailey.

“Your source may be correct,” she told her, forcing a slight smile that hid her mixed feelings about the idea.

“That’s great. Try not to get shot again, will ya?” Trudy said bluntly.

“Yeah, copy that,” Hailey said, rolling her eyes as she smiled at the sergeant.

“You two,” she addressed, pointing to Adam and Kim. “Either of you hear from Halstead?”

“Halstead?” Hailey questioned before either could answer.

“Yeah, he’s the other detective who’s on furlough,” Adam told her before directing his attention back to Trudy. “I haven’t heard a peep since the day before he left.”

“Neither have I. I still can’t believe he just up and left out of nowhere,” Kim added.

It was the first time Hailey was hearing anything about the detective. Curiosity got the best of her, so she pressed the conversation further.

“Where’d he go?”

“No clue. Voight came in one morning with furlough papers on his desk, along with a note that said he was going on some long-planned trip. It was super unexpected-“ Adam’s voice continued on, but Hailey’s mind failed to comprehend a single word.

Her vision blurred and the noise around her muffled. Her mind brought her back to that first night with Jay. When he was still a nameless stranger, telling her his story for the first time.

My team doesn’t know about my cancer. They think I’m on vacation, traveling the world or sitting on a beach somewhere.

Suddenly, she made a connection she should have seen from the beginning. Voight had told her about the detective who took furlough, the whole reason he’d brought her onto the team in the first place. It would be a lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but she didn’t entertain it enough to actually believe it could be true. Hearing Adam talk about this Halstead guy, giving an eerily similar story to what she knew about Jay’s team? It made her nervous. She wasn’t even sure why. Her first thought was that it was some unwarranted guilt for being his replacement. She didn’t exactly take his position, but some paranoid part of her imagined him seeing it that way — as some sort of betrayal. Before her mind could roam too far, she snapped back into focus.

“I really have to get going,” she lied, looking down at the time on her phone then bringing her attention back to the trio before her.

“Have fun with your plans!” Kim called out as Hailey moved to exit the building. She waved a hand back, not turning around to let them see how rattled she was.

She didn’t want to stick around for more details. She didn’t want to have the theory confirmed. She figured if she could continue to live in her world of blissful ignorance, everything would be okay.

She was halfway home, lost in her thoughts when her phone rang. His contact popped up on her screen, and it was enough to cast away all of the cloudy thoughts fogging her brain. The rest of the night was about being with him, about openly sharing those feelings she’d tried to keep locked up for weeks. Whether or not he was the same detective from her unit, she wasn’t going to let the idea and whatever implications it carried ruin her night with him.

When she got home, she took a little extra time to pull herself together. He’d told her he was picking her up, remaining vague about the evening’s plans, so she kept in her work clothes and just fluffed out her curls a little more than usual. Her heart picked up in her chest when she heard a knock at her door. She felt like a teenager, giddy about her crush coming to pick her up for a date.

The wide smile she was greeted with on the other side of the door immediately had her grinning right back.

“Hi,” he said, the smile never leaving his lips.

“Hi,” she returned as she joined him on the stoop, closing the door and locking it on her way out.

He grabbed her hand as they walked out to the street, interlocking their fingers as he pulled her closer to him. She looked up at him, that same smile stuck on her face. She could get used to being that close to him.

He drove them deep into the city, and she tried piecing together what he had in mind. He’d asked her about her day, and she’d asked him about his, but none of that small talk distracted her enough from eventually figuring out their intended destination. It wasn’t until he was pulling into a random parking lot by the river that her heart officially dropped into her stomach.

“No…” she whispered. He just chuckled from the driver’s seat, shifting the truck into park as he looked over at her.

“Jay, I am not jumping into the Chicago River. Do you know how polluted that thing is? And don’t even get me started on the number of bodies I’ve had to pull out of there,” she rambled and he reached over, placing a hand on her knee, making her freak out for an entirely different reason.

“You don’t have to, but it would be more fun if you did it with me,” he said, rubbing his thumb against her jeans.

“Are you sure you even need to be doing this? Isn’t your immune system wrecked by the chemo and everything?” a sudden look of panic overcame her face.

“I don’t plan on drinking the water, Hailey. I’ll be fine,” he assured. The tense look on her face told him she wasn’t so convinced.

They eventually got out of the truck, and he gathered a bunch of towels from the back. It was nearly 9 pm by that time, so it was dark, and not to mention very cold out. Chicago Autumn was nowhere near as brutal as Chicago Winter, but it wasn’t exactly swimming weather either.

As they approached the bridge, she only became even more nervous. He’d settled by a bench on the riverwalk, dropping towels on it before kicking his boots off and shooting her a questioning look.

“Last chance,” he said, prepared to make the walk up to the walkway of the bridge alone. She blamed it on a brief lapse of sanity, but she couldn’t shake the idea of wanting to join him. She wasn’t sold on the idea, but she also didn’t think she could bear to watch him jump in alone.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered. She shook her head as she kicked her own shoes off, resting them next to his.

“I’m coming with you.”

“What?” he asked, a smile breaking away across his lips.

“It’s the whole point of the list, right? Make some memories… live a little?”

His smile grew and he nodded, holding out his hand for her to grab as they walked up to the bridge together. They probably looked insane, walking on the bridge barefoot in the middle of the night. When they made it to the ledge, the nerves only got worse as she looked down into what she knew to be very cold water below.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked as he released her hand to climb over the railing.

“We’re still breathing aren’t we?” he returned, and she shook her head at him with a nervous groan.

Once he was on the other side, he balanced himself with one hand on the railing behind him and offered her his other. She took it hesitantly, climbing over to join him on the other side. With one hand joined with his and the other grasping the metal behind her, she looked down into the dark water.

“Ready?”

She whimpered.

“If I catch a disease from this, I’m blaming you.”

He laughed, pausing only for a second before taking the leap without warning, his grip on her hand pulling them down together.

She let out a scream as their bodies gave way to gravity, and in a matter of seconds, they were submerged under the unbearably cold water. The sensation sent chills throughout her body as every muscle tensed up. When her head rose above the surface, she gasped for air, looking around for Jay. She treaded water for a second, her head swiveling around to try and find him. A brief panic overcame her, but then his head popped up a few feet away and she let out a sigh of relief. Somehow the beanie he wore survived the jump.

“See that was not so bad!” he called out, his cheeky laugh causing her to swipe water at his face.

They swam to the riverwalk, and Jay pulled himself up onto the sidewalk first as Hailey followed behind. The swimming and the effort it took to pull her up must have been too much for her shoulder, and she winced in pain as she exerted herself up onto the sidewalk.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching out to help her stand once she was on solid ground.

“Yeah, that just made my arm a little sore,” she said, rolling her shoulder out.

“Here,” he told her, grabbing a towel and walking towards her. He wrapped it around her tightly, giving her a smile before wrapping himself up in one of his own.

They carried their shoes back to the truck, their feet leaving footprints on the dry pavement. Out of nowhere, she began to laugh, drying the droplets that trailed down her face with the edge of the towel.

“What?” he asked as he blindly laughed along with her.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” she said, shaking her head.

“Worth it though, right?”

“Debatable,” she muttered as her teeth chattered.

When they made it back to the truck, they threw their shoes into the back, and he immediately got his keys to start it up. He was trying to get it as warm as possible before they climbed in.

“Hang tight a bit, I’ve got some more towels for the seats.”

She hoisted herself up onto the tailgate, scrunching the towel against the ends of her hair to dry the droplets leaving tiny puddles all around her. Every part of her body was shivering. The wet sweater she wore clung to her skin, only making her even colder. She did a quick scope around, finding herself in the clear before trying to tug the sweater over her head. She found it hard trying to pull her right arm through. The pain from her irritated shoulder made it almost impossible, and she let out a sharp wince every time she tried.

Jay walked around the truck, his movements halting when he noticed what she was trying to do.

“Do you need help?” he asked hesitantly. She was half topless with her right arm stuck in the sleeve of her shirt, and she found it sweet that he was so seemingly unsure of if it was okay to look at her like that.

“Uh, if you don’t mind,” she said, her chest rising and falling quickly, no longer just because of how cold she was.

He made his way over, standing between her legs as he helped pull the sweater over her head and slide her remaining arm out of the sleeve. He tossed it somewhere in the back of the truck and quickly took the towel from beside her to wrap it over her shoulders, pinching the ends together at her chest.

“Thanks,” she said. He nodded before picking a towel up for himself, resting it between his knees as he removed his own shirt. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she saw his bare torso, the muscles contracting and relaxing as he pulled the shirt over his head. He kept the beanie on as he draped the towel over his shoulders, and she frowned as she watched water continue to trail down his face from it.

“You don’t have to wear that for me,” she told him in a low voice, her eyes pointing to his head. His mouth parted as if he were going to object, but she just reached out to him, pulling him closer by his arm. She watched him swallow hard as the gap closed between them and he was right back to standing between her legs. She took the hat off slowly, causing him to shudder. His hair was thin and patchy, but it still had a slight wave in it. It wasn’t as bad as he’d warned. She actually found him to be far more attractive without the hat.

“Brunette. Very light brown, but brunette,” she voiced with a smile, dropping the beanie beside her.

His breath was shallow, and he remained silent for a moment.

“I know it looks bad, you don’t have to be nice,” he said evenly, his mouth barely moving as he spoke. The insecure look on his face and the way he couldn’t look her in the eyes filled her heart with pain.

“Jay-“

She couldn’t find the words, so she grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him down to her so that she could pepper a slow trail of kisses against the top of his head. Then her lips trailed down his temple and to his cheek, finally pulling away to rest her forehead against his.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered. “Plus, you should know I kind of have a thing for brunettes.”

She felt him let out a relieved sigh as his mouth curled up at the sides. Instead of responding he just leaned into her and captured her lips with his.

Her shoulders dropped as she kissed him back. She felt his hands almost immediately snake under her towel to slide against her waist. His fingertips against her bare skin sent chills throughout her body and made her pull him even closer to her. The kiss was hungry and slow, and she was certain she’d never been kissed that way before. When she pulled away, he followed, and when she slid a hand down his chest, his grip on her waist tightened. It was the kind of kiss that made her lose all sense of time and space — the kind you only dream about. He moved his hands to her legs, gripping the sides of her thighs to pull her closer toward him, and eventually those same hands rose to grab at the sides of her face. He instilled a warmth in her that was almost enough to make her forget how cold she was, a warmth that lingered even after he’d pulled away.

“Wow,” she muttered, mindlessly playing with the chain around his neck.

“Yeah,” he said, stroking a thumb down her jaw as his eyes blinked open.

“I uh- I don’t mean to cut this short,” she breathed out, still trying to catch her breath. “But it’s really cold, and I desperately need to get out of these clothes.”

They laughed and he raised a brow at her, causing her to swat the back of her hand at his chest.

“Not like- You know what I mean,” she giggled.

“I do,” he grinned. He leaned down and left one last peck on her lips before grabbing her waist to help her down. “Let’s go.”

As she thawed out on the drive home, she also cooled down from that moment they shared. Then she thought about her unintentionally suggestive comment. They hadn’t talked about it, they hadn’t exactly had the chance to, but she wanted to take things slow. Maybe part of it was not wanting to accept the option that left them with a short amount of time together, or maybe it was the fact that she’d never really figured out what a real relationship should look like. Either way, she knew what they had was unlike anything she’d ever had with anyone else. She wanted to make sure they did things right. Though she wasn’t exactly sure if he was on that same page.

“Hey, um I know time’s not exactly on our side, but I do want to take my time with us… with you,” she told him as his eyes flickered from the road to her.

“I want that too,” he nodded, reaching over and intertwining their fingers together.

“You do? You’re okay if I want to take things slow?” she asked him, uncertainty clear in the way the words left her mouth.

“I don’t have any expectations, Hailey. All I know is I want you, and I want this. Everything else we can take day by day,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. She smiled, reaching over and grabbing at his face to leave a kiss against his jaw.

— — — —

Hailey insisted on a shower the second they made it back to her place. Jay took that as an opportunity to order dinner, light a fire, and build a bed of pillows on her living room floor. She just about melted into a puddle when she came out to find the setup, a still shirtless Jay trying to dry his pants by the warmth of the fire.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked as she sauntered her way over, her mouth agape at his surprise as she brought her arms to wrap around his neck.

“Better,” she said, flashing him a dimpled grin. Her eyes surveyed the room before meeting his again.

“I never would have guessed you were a romantic,” she teased, her eyes pointing to the setup before them.

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes as his fingers tightened around her waist.

“I can throw those in the dryer if you want to shower real quick,” she told him as she nodded to his soggy pants, her fingers once again fidgeting with the chain around his neck.

“My shirt’s in the back of my truck, any chance you got a shirt I could borrow?”

“I don’t know I kinda like this look you’re rocking right now,” she said, sliding a hand down to poke a finger at his bare chest. He let out a chuckle, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink as he sent her a smirk that could make her knees buckle. “But… if you insist on putting a shirt on, I’m sure I have one that’ll work.”

“Okay,” he murmured. He leaned forward and her face scrunched up as he left a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “Be right back.”

He left his clothes out in the hallway and she tossed them in the dryer. She had a collection of oversized shirts she often wore to bed, so finding one that fit him wasn’t hard. She picked one out and left it on the door handle of the bathroom before making her way back to the living room to wait for him.

Not long later, he returned in just the shirt and his boxers, causing a smirk to creep across Hailey’s face.

“Actually, I think I like this look better,” she told him as he made his way over to her.

“The jeans were still damp, also I figured if you get to be comfy, so do I,” he smirked, helping her with the boxes of takeout splayed across her coffee table.

“Hey, you don’t see me complaining,” she winked at him. “I’m going to go get a beer from the fridge, you want one?”

“Sure,” he said, nestling into the pillows she was retreating from.

When she made it to the kitchen, she checked her phone that rested on the counter. She had one text from Kim. The message elicited a mindless smile the second she opened it. It was a picture of Kim, Kevin, and Adam at Molly’s, their drinks raised in the air as their bright smiles lit up the screen.

I hope your PLANS are treating you well. Totally not sending this to make you miss us ;)

Her smile fell when she looked over at Jay in her living room and she was reminded of the conversation at the district earlier that evening. What if he really was the same detective from Intelligence who took furlough, the one who left them shorthanded, the one whose spot she had filled. Part of her wanted to talk to him about it, but then again she found it pointless to try and put out a fire she wasn’t even sure was lit yet. She took a step back from it, trying to settle her mind on just being with him, savoring every bit of that perfect night that she could. She pulled two beers from the fridge before turning her phone off and rejoining him in the living room.

The rest of the night was filled with easy conversations, tangled-up bodies, and lazy kisses. Yet, there were a few times that night when she tried the name on him. Jay Halstead. She repeated it in her head, and she couldn’t shake the way it seemed to fit him so well. Then her mind would drift to a reality where it was true. A reality where he was better and he was back at work, and they were partners, and they worked well together, and that same way he naturally made her feel safe translated to when they were on the job. She was pulled even further into the fantasy when she imagined they would get to go home and work well together there too, build a family, spend time with their friends, and everything in that reality seemed to be so perfect. It seemed like the kind of well-lived memories she would have wanted to have when she woke up in that hospital room.

Then she looked over at his beautiful face in the orange glow of the fire before them, the light from the flames creating dancing shadows across his face, and she realized he wasn’t that guy and that wasn’t their reality. To her, he was just Jay, and their reality was perfect moments and indefinite timing. Though that might not be as ideal as that one she’d created, she just knew she wanted every moment with him she could get. He’d taught her how to live, how to find a way to appreciate life outside of her job, and it made her that much more grateful for everything he was. She found some solace in that, so she tried to push that fantasy from her mind completely. Though no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but replay the name Jay Halstead in her mind. It made her wonder if maybe that was one part of her fantasy that carried some sort of truth.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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helloamhere · 3 years

Note

Oh thank you for the heads up, I’d love to make sure I have your beautiful writing downloaded (for personal use only of course, I would never repost). I don’t mean to pry but does this mean you’re thinking of leaving the fandom or don’t want to write Larry anymore? I’ve so enjoyed your writing and it will be a real loss if you leave (though of course you must do what is best for you). I hope you’re well! Xx.

Thank you so much for the kind words!! xoxo I'll still be here on tumblr for sure! Where else am I going to get my shrieking reaction gifs and memes and cottage pictures!!

Honestly I didn't intend this to be a big old leaving announcement -- this hobby still brings me so much joy -- that's not really my plan. I have slid more and more out of this fandom/thinking about larry plots, but that's not been a plan as much as a quiet transition. I still love the versions of these characters I like to write but the fandom doesn't feel very active for me, ya know (overall, sending nothing but love to the specific creators I still follow and see gorgeous work from) .

Perhaps planning on writing more broadly for other fandoms if I maintain the space to write fic. Lately it's been hard, there's a lot going on in my life!

Really what started to freak me out? Was I've followed a number of stories about recent authors who have had old fanfic of theirs dug up and have gotten super harassed about it? I know that it's probably DEEPLY paranoid to ever worry about something like that. It's so far from a possibility in my life. Yet it got under my skin. And it just KEPT getting under my skin. (still tho, while I would be wretchedly embarrassed to have, say, people in my professional life know I've written these stories....I still LOVE my fics lol so I am hopeful that nothing in them would really be that bad. Lord I do not want to explain ABO to my mom tho). Some of my professional writing is getting more and more out there. As it does, I've just been on a big personal journey to ask: Look. HOW serious are you about wanting to publish original fiction? Do you really want to take writing more seriously and if so, why are you spending hundreds of thousands of words on fic? And you know. I deeply love and cherish that we have created a non-monetized creative community here. It has given me so damn much. I am grateful. But STILL, fic kind of pulls that energy away from original fiction. I started to feel weird about it. Again, I love these stories? I am profoundly grateful for the community here? I WANT to share things? But then as I'm doing a lot of original fiction writing, I'm starting to come back to similar passages or turns of phrase or scenes. I can hear myself try to work out the same themes I write in fic. I wonder if I've poured too much of my own thinking into fic. I've been chewing over whether I would need to delete my longer fics if I ever tried to pitch original fiction, because I've seen people get hammered for that too. This is one of the reasons I don't like orphaning fic, because losing that ability to control it and have authorship to it feels wrong to me somehow. Particularly with how much negative scrutiny 1D fandom comes under, I don't know. I also though, hey, most of the people who would've read my fic already have. Fic doesn't get a lot of new readers once you post it--at least not for me! So I just started to feel really anxious about all of it. What was the benefit if I'd already shared it once, of keeping it up? What if I accidentally repeat myself in ways that tie me to this fic? Or worse, what if I worked something out in a fic and I can't replicate it in my fiction and I shouldn't have "spent" it on my fic? (I know creativity probably doesn't work that way but....the fear!) Should I have really taken a story like TMOP, which I felt so deeply connected to and spent so much intellectual thought on, and should I really have just dumped it online? IDEK. I worry that all this sounds self-aggrandizing. I know my fic are imperfect and nowhere near the quality I ask of myself in other domains. But I still love this writing and these ideas. I want to value it. Again, I'm cognizant that this might be totally wild thinking re: getting punished for having fic out there, but I also just feel so much anxiety over writing, creation, and my own work right now. After going through the last year facing a lot of hostility and bias in my job and having a lot of my own professional work taken away from me, I feel like my mind is full of the need to protect and own the things I've created.

I suppose it's just a pervasive feeling of vulnerability that continues to dig into me right now! Even sharing all of this, well -- this wasn't exactly what you were asking for, but I suppose it's nice to chat about. I feel in community with the readers who have given me so much, but also, kind of......lonely lately, when I think about my fic. I don't know how other fic authors feel around here. It can be a lot, can't it? Still taking the decision slow and wanted to send an early warning. So I'll be back and share more advance notice if I do pull the trigger on it, I am not going to chop anything down without telling you again <3

#that's the long and short of it!!!#personal #the life and times of helloamhere #honestly if other creators feel these struggles I would love to chat about how we all deal #the world is hard and monetizing creative work is hard #love to you all #this is all really imperfect and raw and messy #I'm sorry

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plounce · 3 years

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a thing i am doing right now is i am writing a post-canon cardassia garashir fic BUT it is wholly made up of primary sources and secondary sources discussing garashir in later cardassian society because in present canon cardassia is like homophobic so their relationship was kept verrrrry private, so a lot of historians in the future debate over whether garak and bashir were together or not. ambiguity and all that. im a history major. all the secondary sources are post-post-canon when cardassia is like. more socially liberal about certain things, where the writers are reflecting on that period of cardassian history. anyway these are the sections i have written / planned so far

bashir's will that asks for certain documents to be preserved “for the sake of historical preservation, so that future generations may know Elim not just as a patriotic statesman but as a warm and loving man.” <-- homo

a book on present-canon cardassian homophobia, going into the social history. this section got really long because i talked about trans cardassians navigating around homophobia a lot. bc the homophobia is from a place of “you have to have children” but like (binary) trans ppl are okay so like those people who marry in ways that don’t appear childbearing tended to have children really quick to escape that. but yeah i still need to finish this bit bc i need to actually talk about the homophobia not just the trans people

list of cardassian homophobic slurs. yeah lmao i know. we have fun here. one of the ones for “lesbians” is “friend of sapohi” because i couldn’t resist making up lizard alien sappho

first physical letter garak sends bashir post-canon when there’s power shortages and bashir is stationed a long way away. they’re not together yet. sort of an introduction. these letters are one of the only personal documents garak left behind bc he’s paranoid and very private

a federation relief worker’s notes on a briefing about power rationing, which is some further explanation about why the fuck star trek people would be writing letters on paper instead of their weird ipads

second letter garak sends bashir. idk what’s gonna be in that yet but i do know garak says “your doodle of me was charming but inaccurate”. just one side of the conversation bc bashir kept his letters from garak while garak read the letters bashir sent him, memorized them, and destroyed them for security reasons.

record request emails from a cardassian history graduate student to a federation archivist asking for access to any messages from the o’briens about bashir but oh no :( the o’briens only marked for archival some videos of their grandkids :( and also a video of a random cardassian kid from bashir? weird. this one was really fun

one of the last messages bashir sent o’brien through starfleet comms that’s like right before he leaves for cardassia. nothing Concrete but definitely Hmmm-able

an excerpt from a book about the history of offworlders on cardassia, which includes a letter from one of garak’s political opponents as an example of reactionary xenophobia. basically it’s just a letter where this dude is very rude and homophobic about bashir. but it’s fine because he uses fake homophobia

political cartoon where bashir is portrayed as a seducer trying to get cardassia to assimilate into the federation. meant to be kind of funny imo. might commission karin to draw it for me. i think bashir tried to frame it in their house but garak like super hated it but idk if i can squeeze that in

transcript of an interview bashir gave on his views on cardassian politics, trying to be like “haha im just here to be a doctor, im not trying to be a spy or anything, but yeah i do agree with the people who like social programs and the rights of the disadvantaged etc etc”

an excerpt from a speech parmak gives like a decade after that after a piece of orphan rights legislation got passed that thanks bashir for the consultation and support. heheh

third letter from garak to bashir. probably like. subtly indicates that their relationship is on the verge of romantic. the last letter

a negative book review of a book that argues that garak and bashir were together. the review is just like “terrans are just Like That!!” plus some other stuff like “they lived together bc nobody would rent a house to an offworlder in this era!!” and stuff like that. im looking forward to writing this

the entries on garak and bashir from a children’s book on cardassian heroes. very saccharine and glossy and patriotic. bashir especially is like “once he stepped foot on cardassian soil he knew he loved this land” etc etc. amusingly inaccurate

the speech of one of garashir’s grandchildren (they take in some wards - non-blood related adoption is formally recognized on cardassia after the wards are of age) while accepting some medical award that thanks her grandfather elim garak for the support and her beloved elder julian bashir for his advice and support

a foreword from a book of poetry written by one of their GREAT-grandchildren who thanks his grandfather for the love of literature passed down to him. because Oh You Know

idk where this will go but cardassians discussing a federation documentary about The Heroes Of The Dominion War that says “oh yeah bashir went on to become the first naturalized citizen of cardassia. elim garak became an important figure in the new cardassian government. they were common law married” and the cardassians being like THEY REALLY SAID THAT? and some cardassians being mad and some cardassians being like Someone’s Fucking Saying It Finally!

still thinking of other sections that go a bit more into their children/married life. maybe also some other incidents. the thing about this is it’s such a fun little exercise to think of different ways to angle into this relationship and this society through surviving primary sources and variations on secondary sources. it’s a puzzle though because i want a lot of differentiation

im thinking ill conclude it with like their great great grandchild releasing some documents from them that confirm their relationships that were meant to published like a couple centuries later when hopefully cardassia was more accepting. because i want gay people to get the last laugh and assert their places in history and regain control over how society sees them. yk

sorry this post is like so insanely long and also kind of deranged in concept. im kind of fucking tired of my main twitter being this place where i have to remember that 21k people follow me (because i post c*tcrumb art on my main twtter) that im trying to make tumblr a place where i can just run my mouth yk. anyway. hey i got really into ds9 in the second week of march

#chirps #long post

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hamiltonimagines · 4 years

Text

Starstruck

Pairing: Oak x Reader

Request: “can you write a oak fic where reader sees him riding his skate board at venice beach and she is kinda starstruck and he thinks it’s cute” - @lonelydance

Word Count: 1.5k

I was currently walking down to Venice Beach. I had just moved to Los Angeles and I was excited to spend as much time as possible at the beach.

I got to the beach and I found a park bench that was facing a skate park. I pulled a book out of my bag. Before I opened my book, I looked at all the skateboarders who were doing tricks.

One of them caught my eye. The guy looked familiar to me and I couldn’t seem to figure out why. He was super handsome, but I didn’t know why I felt like I knew him.

I ignored it and started to read my book. I would occasionally look up and see if I could remember why I knew this handsome stranger, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I put my bookmark in my book and decided to check my phone. I checked my Instagram. One of my close friends had posted something on their Instagram story, I decided to see what it was. It was a screenshot from Spotify of the Hamilton soundtrack.

Then it dawned on me, the guy was Oak from Hamilton. I had seen the show maybe a year ago back in New York. I couldn’t believe that we ended up in the same place. I hated to admit it, but I had a little bit of a crush on Oak.

I looked up from my phone and watched as Oak did a trick. As I watched him, I knew for sure that it was him. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him. His tricks seemed so flawless and I was captivated.

Then, he did a jump and landed back outside of the concave part of the skate park. He stopped his board and stood there catching his breath for a second. He wiped some sweat off of his forehead.

Then, he looked over at me. I froze him, I hadn’t even realized that I had been staring this whole time. I could feel my cheeks heat up, as he stared back. I could see him start to smirk to himself. He winked at me and I quickly looked back down and pretended to read my book.

This was so embarrassing. It was one thing to embarrass yourself in public. It was a much worse thing to embarrass yourself in front of your celebrity crush in public.

Maybe, I had imagined it and he hadn’t noticed at all. I couldn’t help myself, I sneakily looked back up to see what Oak was doing. I saw him in the middle of a trick. He landed the trick and I looked down before he could catch me again.

I continued to read my book, but I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me. I figured I was just being paranoid, but what if I wasn’t? I had to look up to check again.

I wasn’t being paranoid, I saw Oak, across the skate park, staring right back at me. He smirked and waved to me. I panicked again and went back to my book. I couldn’t help but wonder how I got myself into this situation.

Then, a few minutes later, I heard a loud sound. I looked up and saw Oak, maybe ten feet away. He was skating along the outside part of the skate park and had fallen down.

I rushed over to where he was currently laying on the ground. I kneeled down next to him. “Oh my god are you okay?” I asked him, as I checked his arms for any major cuts. My mom was a nurse, so it was in my blood.

“Hey hey hey, I’m not hurt” he said, trying to calm me down. He grabbed both of my hands and stopped me from checking his arms. “Are you sure? You fell and you might of hurt yourself” I told him.

“I figured that if I pretended to fall, then maybe I could get the pretty girl, who keeps staring at me, to talk to me” he explained. I felt my entire face heat up. I quickly pulled my hands away from him and put my face in my hands.

I felt him grab my hands and pull them away from my face. “You can’t hide your pretty face” he said, smirking.

“I’m Oak” he said, sitting up. “Oh...uh nice to uhm meet you. I’m Y/N” I stuttered, feeling very nervous. “You recognized me, right?” He asked me. I felt like I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t of been doing.

“Pshh, recognize you? What do you mean? I have no idea who you are” I lied, unconvincingly. “Are you sure?” He asked, smirking.

“This is so embarrassing” I muttered to myself. “Don’t be embarrassed, I think you’re pretty cute” he said. “You what?” I asked, in shock. “I think that you’re cute” he said, slowly taking one of my hands into his own.

“Oh...well, um...that’s...or....um thank you?” I said, completely fumbling over my words. Oak smirked to himself. “Come on, let’s go sit” he said, standing up and pulling me up with him. We walked to the bench where I had been sitting, and sat down.

“So you come here often?” He asked me. “Not really, I just moved to Los Angeles. I figured I would check it out” I told him. “Oh you’re new to LA? Maybe, I could show you around sometime” he flirted. “I would really like that” I said, smiling.

“So do you skate?” He asked me. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that a no?” He asked, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, not even a little bit. I think I would break every bone in my body” I told him.

“How about I teach you?” He suggested. “Did you miss the part about breaking every bone in my body?” I asked, giggling. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I won’t let you fall” he promised me.

“Okay fine” I said. We both stood up and walked down the sidewalk, a little farther away from the skate park. “Okay, first things first” he said.

He took his helmet and placed it on my head. It was super loose on my head. “Look up” he told me. I looked up at the sky and I could feel him tightening the strap under my chin.

“Okay all good” he told me. He placed his board down on the ground, next to me. “So you’re going to stand with your feet parallel, and try to balance” Oak instructed. “I’m going to fall” I said, nervously.

“Then let me help you” he said. He held onto my forearms and I held on to his. I carefully stepped on to the board and then put my other foot on the board.

He moved my hands to hold onto his shoulders. I held on for dear life. I felt like I could fall at any second. “Your balance is off, do you mind?” He asked, as he put his hands in front of my waist. “Uh no, not at all” I told him.

He gingerly placed his hands on my hips and then repositioned the way I was standing. “See, much better” he said, smiling.

“So what now?” I asked him. “Do you want to try and move now?” He asked me. “I’m scared” I whispered. “I won’t let you fall” he said, holding my hands.

He started to walk with me and I held onto his hands super tightly. He let go of one of my hands and I kept going. I wasn’t really doing much. I was just standing there and balancing, but I was thankful that I hadn’t fallen yet.

Then out of nowhere, a dog came running across the sidewalk. I panicked, I didn’t know how to stop and I didn’t want to hit the dog. Oak saw it and stepped in front of me, stopping me from moving.

Unfortunately, I'd been going faster than I thought. I pushed Oak over and he fell backwards into the sand, next to the sidewalk. Since he had been holding onto my hand, I got pulled down with him.

I landed laying completely on top of him. “Oh...uh hi” I said, softly. “Wow, you’re gorgeous” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. I leaned in and softly kissed him.

His lips were soft and smooth. I felt like I was in heaven. He grabbed onto my hips with his hands as he kissed me back.

We pulled away and rested our foreheads against each other. “Wow” we both whispered at the same time. This caused us to both start laughing.

“So how about we get back to the lesson?” He asked me. “Oh, yeah” I said, standing back up. I grabbed his hands and helped him back onto his feet.

“So how was that for my first time skating?” I asked him. “Well normally I would say that it’s bad that you fell on top of me, but it did lead to me getting to kiss you, so I won’t knock off points for that” he said, smirking.

taglist: @someinsanefangirl @outcasted-aloy @geekycatlover @fanfic-addict-98 @romanoffs-heart @multifandomwriterx @andreasworlsboring101 @criminallyhamilton @imatyoursurrvicesurr @irlydontknoanymore @sayweird99 @nyxie75 @elizard-hamilton @daveeds-whore @trost-town @notebookgirl30 @teenag1jealousy @royalstans @elizasfaith @kmsmedine @brunadesuu @roxanne2020 @grandpa-agustd @athenawinchesterx @labellapeaky @rthoney @nerd-88 @theatrenerd86 @riiyy

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines!!

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

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hihihi i’m a new follower and i love your writing style! i have a request :) reader and peter parker are dating and she finds out that he doesn’t like tattoos but reader has always wanted a tattoo so she gets one on her thigh, outer thigh of course, and she’s a little paranoid because she doesn’t want peter to break up with her but one day he sees a little bit of it & when he sees the whole thing he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Thanks for following 🥰 I liked writing this so I hope you liek reading it!

Ink

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: “I’m going to be honest with you.” Peter began. You hung on to his words, preparing yourself for the breakup. “Saying you were wearing a garter was more wishful thinking, because that’d be super hot. But this…” Peter brushed light fingertips over your tattoo, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “This is way hotter.”

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“Bleh.” Peter shuddered as he set two coffee mugs down on the table. He had a displeased look on his usually bright eyed face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you shook a packet of sugar. “Did you accidentally use the soy milk again?”

“No. It wasn’t that. Never making that mistake again.” Peter laughed. He leaned across the table as if he was telling you a secret. “The barista had two full sleeves of tattoos.”

“Oh.” You said with fake shock, not seeing the problem. “Wow.”

“I know.” Peter shook is head. “I’m pretty sure he had them on his neck too.”

“Oh dear.” You chuckled. “Anything but his neck.”

“Alright.” Peter smiled as he stirred his coffee. “I know when I’m being teased.”

“I just didn’t know you had a problem with tattoos.” You took a sip of yours and wiggled your eyebrows.

“I just don’t understand the point.” Peter shrugged and lazily played with your fingers. “I mean, it hurts, it’s expensive, and people usually end up regretting them anyway. Plus, they sag.”

“Oh god.” You fake gasped. “Not sag!”

“I’m sorry, what’s your opinion on tattoos?” Peter asked sarcastically. “Pray tell, I’m dying to know.”

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged and stirred more sugar into your coffee. “I dig em.” You said nonchalantly.

“You dig them?” Peters draw dropped like he didn’t believe you.

“Yeah, I dig them.” You playfully challenged, meeting his eyes. He looked genuinely surprised.

“I love you, and so I respect your opinion, but why?” Peter asked, his mind seemingly blown. He had no idea of his girlfriends favorable opinion on something he felt such disdain for.

“Maybe because they rock.” You laughed. “They’re works of art that you can put on your actual body. How cool is that?” You gushed. “It’s liking carrying around the Mona Lisa in your pocket.”

“I doubt the Mona Lisa would fit in your pocket.” Peter sipped his drink with a smile. “Perhaps a nice tote bag.”

“You’re funny.” You said sarcastically. Peter pretended to brush hair over his shoulder in flattery. “And I’m being serious. I think tattoos are wicked.”

“What about that kid at school with asthma with the tattoo that said “it ain’t easy being wheezy?” Is that tattoo wicked?” Peter teased.

“Yes.” You stated. “Because it meant something to him. That’s why tattoos are so cool. You could get your favorite song lyric from when you were a teen, or a quote from the book that always makes you cry. Or, you could get something completely idiotic that you sober up and regret in the morning.” You shrugged as Peter listened carefully, trying to see things from your point of view. “The possibilities are endless. And that makes them wicked.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Peter remarked. “Would you ever get one?”

“Would my darling boyfriends upset if I did?” You asked, bringing the flirty conversation back to serious. Your body was your body, but you loved Peter. You respected and valued his opinion more than anyone else’s, but his thoughts on tattoos came as a surprise to you. You’d always loved tattoos and had been saving up to get one for two years already. You never wanted to upset Peter, but you also didn’t want his disapproval to keep you from something you’d always wanted to do.

“Your darling boyfriend wouldn’t love it.” Peter said honestly, which you appreciated. “But your darling boyfriend knows he has no say in what you do with your body.”

“And that,” you held up your mug and clinked it with Peters, “is why I love my darling boyfriend.”

The topic didn’t come up again after that day. You and Peter had agreed to disagree. But three years later, you found yourself outside a tattoo parlor with a broken down car in the pouring rain. You tried to called a mechanic, but your phone decided that was the perfect time to die. You let out and angry breath and went inside the nearest building, which happened to be Kings and Queens Ink.

“Hi.” You said to the tattooed lady behind the front desk. “Could I please use your phone? My car broke down.”

“Sure thing, gorgeous.” The lady smirked. She had a pin-up look to her. Her cherry red hair was buzzed on one side, revealing an orchestra of studded piercings. If you were braver, you’d look just like her. You didn’t just love tattoos, you loved the whole New York biker style. You lived your dream every now and then in a leather jacket or some studded boots, but you usually kept your inner badassery on the inside, for Peters sake. He liked soft girls. Sure, he loved you no matter what you wore, but he had a special place in his heart for pink skirts and fuzzy sweaters.

The lady handed you a telephone and the number of a mechanic. You shot her a grateful smile and dialed the number.

“Three hours?” You whined into the phone. “Why would it take that long?”

“Listen lady, you’re not the only one with a broken down car in Queens today. Plus, it’s raining cats and dogs outside. Three hours. Final offer.” The mechanic grumbled.

“Alright.” You sighed. “I’ll see you in three hours.”

You hung up the phone and rubbed your temples. The girl at the desk was drumming her fingers on her desk.

“Looks like you’ll be here a while. We might as well get to know each other.” She said. “I’m Monica.”

“Y/n.” You told her. “Do you have anything I can do for the next three hours?” You laughed in annoyance. Monica shrugged.

“You ever wanted to get a tattoo?” She joked.

“Yes, actually.” You said surprised, as if she’d read your mind. “I’ve always wanted to get one.”

“What’s stopping you?” Monica leaned her head on her hands.

“It always seemed like it was just a dream of mine. Not meant to come true.” You told her. “Plus, my boyfriend doesn’t like them.”

“Don’t you listen to Alicia Keys? This is New York, baby. Where dreams are made of. I say, get that tattoo. It’s only permanent.” Monica quipped.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. It was a big decision to make on an impulse.

“Do you have one in mind?” Monica pressed.

“Yeah.” You told her.

“Do you have the money?” She went on.

“Yeah.” You smiled, seeing where she was going with this.

“Then get your sexy ass in the chair.” She huffed.

And so, you got your sexy ass in the chair.

Three hours later, you stood in front of the full length mirror, admiring your new tattoo.

“Do you like it?” Monica asked you hopefully.

“Like it?” You asked incredulously. “Monica, I could kiss you right now.”

Monica laughed as you continued to gawk at your own body art.

“I’m serious. It’s exactly what I wanted.” You gushed. You turned to Monica with a glowing smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, doll face.” Monica said, pleased with her own work.

Once your car was fixed and you paid for your tattoo, you made your way back to your apartment. Your tattoo was wrapped snugly in cellophane. It stung slightly, but your adrenaline and excitement kept you from feeling the extent of the pain. Your excitement faded when an incoming call from Peter came in. You were suddenly reminded of his disdain for the permanent body art and feared for his reaction. On an impulse, you declined his call. He didn’t have to know just yet. Yes, it was your body, and Peter respected that. But you had to respect him too. And Peter hated tattoos.

You knew that.

You knew that and you got one anyway.

You felt guilt forming in a brick in your tummy. You felt like you betrayed your boyfriend. You turned into your apartment complex with a worried frown.

You spent the next two weeks avoiding telling Peter about your tattoo. You only wore pants around him, since the tattoo was on your outer thigh. You were careful not to let him touch your leg, in case he accidentally brushed it and caused you to wince, revealing your secret. As the weeks went on, you grew more and more paranoid. You felt yourself growing more guilty with each passing day. You became full blown terrified that Peter would break up with you on sight if he found out. When he wasn’t around, you flaunted it around with pride. But on days you spent together, you covered it like your life depended on it. You loved your tattoo. It was everything you’d ever dreamed of. But you loved Peter more. And you weren’t ready to tell him just yet.

A month later, your tattoo became old news. You’d almost completely forgotten about it one morning as you got ready for a date with Peter. You threw on his favorite pink skirt with a fuzzy white sweater. Peter came by shortly with your favorite candy and some popcorn.

“You ready to watch Only You?” Peter asked as he kissed you hello.

“It’s only my favorite movie.” You smiled.

“You just like it because you think the main actor is cute.” Peter rolled his pretty eyes, always the jealous type.

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved your hand dismissively and pulled Peter into your apartment by his shirt collar.

An hour into the movie, you cuddle into Peters side and swung your leg over his.

“What’s that?” Peter tilted his head to the side, catching sight of something black on your outer thigh. Your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of your tattoo peaking out from under your skirt. You took your leg off of Peters in a panic.

“What’s what?” You asked innocently. You scrambled to pull your skirt over your tattoo.

“That.” Peter pointed to your thigh, with a curious smile on his face. “On your leg.” He used his pinky to lift your skirt a little, catching another glimpse of black lines of your leg. “It’s something black.”

“Oh.” You said, dumbfounded. You’d been caught. You couldn’t play dumb anymore. “That’s my…garter.” You lied.

“You’re wearing a garter?” Peter asked, a pleased grin decorating his face.

“Yes.” You were committed to the lie now.

“Just the one?” Peter asked, blushing faintly. “Only one leg gets a party hat?”

“That leg was cold.” You continued.

“Like a bride?” Peter giggled as he tried to sneak a peak. You swatted his hand away, which made him come back with a vengeance.

“They’re highly fashionable.” You informed him, keeping a tight grip on your skirt.

“Y/n.” He whined. He picked up your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Come on pretty girl, let me see.”

“No.” You said shyly, moving his hand once more. You were fully sweating at this point, your secret being moments away from being revealed.

“As much as I wished it were true, I have a feeling you’re not wearing a garter.” Peter paused the movie and gave you his full attention. “Come on, baby. Tell me what’s up?”

“I have to tell you something.” You sighed. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth and chewed on it.

“You can tell me anything.” Peter said softly. “You know that.”

You looked at Peter and sighed. You didn’t know how to say it, so you didn’t use words at all. You lifted your skirt above your thigh, revealing your tattoo to Peter. It was fully healed now. The jet black ink stood out on your smooth skin. Peters eyes widened in surprise at the sizable tattoo. He wondered how he’d gone so long without seeing it. Right there on your outer thigh was a delicate, black spider hanging from a web. You’d had the image in your mind long before you met Peter, but finding out he was Spider-Man only made you want it more. You watched his face closely for a reaction. You searched for signs of disappointment or disgust, but there were none. Peter looked at your tattoo with an awestruck expression. His brown eyes were wide with delight, reminding you of a child.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” Peter began. You hung on to his words, preparing yourself for the breakup. “Saying you were wearing a garter was more wishful thinking, because that’d be super hot. But this…” Peter brushed light fingertips over your tattoo, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “This is way hotter.”

“What?” You asked, thoroughly shocked by his reaction. “Really? You think so.”

“Yes.” Peter laughed breathlessly. “That is the sexiest thing I ever laid eyes on.”

“For real?” You sat up in shock. “You like it?”

“I love it.” Peter traced the tattoo with his nails, trying to remember every detail of his girlfriends body. “I seriously love it.”

“Oh, thank God.” You let out a breath of relief. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

“As if.” Peter laughed. “Are you gonna get more?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, smiling happily at his unexpected reaction. “I’d like too.”

“Could I come with you when you get the next one?” Peter asked excitedly, getting ahead of himself. “I could hold your hand if it hurts. Did this one hurt? I bet it did. God, you’re so cool.” Peter gushed over his badass girlfriend.

“I would love that.” You told him honestly, squeezing his hand in a appreciative manner.

“Me too.” Peter intertwined his fingers with yours. “I can’t wait. I’m gonna hold your hand so good.”

“I thought you hated tattoos.” You wondered with a content smile.

“That was before you had one.” Peter said simply. “And I can’t hate anything about my darling girlfriend.”

“And that”, you pressed a gentle kiss to Peters lips, “is why your darling girlfriend loves you.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona

Wanna be added? Just ask 💜

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #peter parker x tattooed!reader #spiderman x tattooed!reader #spiderman: far from home #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

Text

Girls play Games, Women don’t. - pt. 8

A/N: I could have ended this extremely angsty but I didn’t.

WARNING: There is mention of death, grieving, loss and murder. It’s not severe or super bad or anything but if you are uncomfortable with any of those thing, I advise you not to read it but it’s up to you.

Your father was a paranoid man. Family meant the world to him but to you that was just his excuse to do anything he wanted.

You walked down the stairs of the large, quiet house. You felt the wooden flooring beneath you creak and you knew he had already heard you. Your hand touched the wall, staying there as you stopped at the doorframe, watching the man in the darkness.

“Sit.” he said and gestured his hand to the armchair in front of you.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way to your offered seat and crossed your leg over the other. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” you smiled, turning on the light next the two of you.

You found his face scarred a bit, not too much but enough to let you know he was on one of his... “missions.”

You weren’t affected by it. You only took a glass of potion and drank it whole.

His lips curved into a pleased smile, the cigar between his fingers leaving his hand as he drank his own and leaned back. “It’s only fair.” he said, taking the rest.

It was a tradition in your family to take a truth potion before your ascending. To you it has always been something to look forward to, being fully accepted to the family and finally becoming a big part in it but...

... that was long gone by now. You weren’t the same person anymore and all you could think about was him.

“Reckon you know how this goes?”

“I do. Don’t be offended by the answers.”

“You don’t know what I’ll ask.”

“Neither do you.” you smirked and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Then let’s start.” he cleared his throat. “Are you loyal?”

“Yes.”

“Are you loyal to me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you die for me?”

“No.” you spoke truthfully, his head glitching to the side as a pleased smile appeared on his lips.

“Why not?”

“You thought us to live for ourselves and die for ourselves.”

“That’s correct.” he nodded, pride entering his eyes , almost twinkling just as yours. “Will you solve the cypher?”

“I will.”

“Will you solve it for me?”

“I’ll solve it for us.”

“Those are nicely phrased answers.”

“Learned from the best.”

His smile spread wider across his cheeks, wrinkles showing at the corner of his mouth but covering them by the dark, dense beard. He already opened his mouth to continue his questionare but something in your eyes distracted him. He felt as if your mind wasn’t fully with him and if he was frank with himself, something about your energy, about your cold, short answers, without any enthusiasm as it was in the past, made him.... curious.

“Was the boy who hugged you Sirius Orion Black, from House of Black?”

Shocked by his question, you leaped back into your seat. “What does he have to do with this?”

“Answer the question, Princess.”

“Stop calling me that. I hate it.”

“I do not care, now answer my question.”

“Yes. It was him.”

“Are the rumors true?”

“No.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and re-phrasing what he said. “Let me specify. Have you been involved with him in any sort of way?”

“We were friends.” you gritted your teeth and looked away. This wasn’t the part of the ascending. He had nothing to do with this.

“Were you attracted to him?”

“I don’t want to answer this.”

“So you were?”

“Yes!” you screamed, wanting to shout ‘no’ instead but unable due to the truth poison in your veins. You looked away again, calming yourself and facing him again. It’s your turn to find out what you’ve been curious about. “Did you kill Devon?”

“No.”

“Do you know who Devon McKingley is?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“He’s the little boy you used to run to when you were a child. You fancied him.”

“You knew?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Devon and you had always been close, I knew sooner or later that you and him will fall in love-”

“So you killed him?” you stood up, desperate for some answers.

“No.” he shook his head smiling.

“But you know who did?” you felt your voice shake, thinking about the boy from your childhood.

“Yes but-”

“WHO!?” you demanded, tears falling down your cheeks.

“You have to understand-”

“WHO WAS IT?!”

“My dad.”

“LIAR!” you shouted. “Pop would never kill-”

Your father rose up as well, this time gritting his teeth just like you as he grabbed you by the throat and squeezed. “You might have known him as a sweet, fragile old man but he himself had youth and strenght just like you and I. Don’t believe that just because he was old that he wasn’t capable of doing the things he did!” he threw you into the chair and ruffled his hair. “That boy was a Mudblood. He was black, he was poor, he was nothing but filth!” he turned around, screaming at you. “He would have corrupted you!”

“HE WAS A CHILD!”

“And so were you!” He stormed back to you, pushing you against the arm chair. “You are my child. “ he paused, scanning your facial expression. “Your mother and I have known each other similar since your age as you met that kid, I knew what boys are like! Especially his kind!”

“His kind?!” you pushed him away, standing up despite the fact how numb your legs were. “He was a sweet boy!”

“He was nothing but a gangbanger! Your pop did it to protect you!”

“He killed him!!”

“ON MY ORDERS!” he shouted so loud you slapped your own hand against your mouth, tears falling down your cheeks.

“You ordered to kill a 12 year old child?” you voice quievered.

“We are purebloods.” he softened his voice, as if that was supposed to be an acceptable reason. “We are respectful, pureblood wizards. We aim high above-”

“-and kill whoever stands in the way, right?”

“Sooner or later that 12 year old boy would grow up into a man and men like him go for women like you. He would have snatched you away, turned your against the family for the sake of love. LOVE!” he exclaimed as if that word was the most hilarious joke to him. “We will find you a suitable man.”

“Pureblood? Wealthy?”

“You will fall in love with him. You will. I will choose the best suitor for you.” he started to aproach you, his hand on your cheek as it brushed away the falling tears. “You’re my little girl. Girls like you have to be protected by men like me.”

Blood rushed up your veins and your hand slapped away his hands, pushing yourself further away from him. “I can protect myself just fine.” and you stormed away, grabbing your coat and disapparating into thin air.

- thin air or so you thought. You apparated back in your room. Four walls and nothing but pencil and paper, a few arithmancy books by the side and a large album of your family tree.

You stormed to the door but found yourself locked inside. You banged on it, twice as hard each time.

The flooring let out a squeak, steps familiar as you heard them all your life. He put his hand on the door and whispered; “You’re safe here.”

“YOU KILLED HIM! YOU BASTARD!!! YOU KILLED DEVON!!” you shouted, kicking the door as a picture of your childhood friend kept appearing in your head. His sweet smile, his generous heart bringing you candy every time the two of you met on the play ground.

“You’re mad but fury doesn’t last forever, darling. You’ll understand that everything I did was for this family.” and he left.

He left you alone, throwing all sorts of things at the door to break free yet not one piece of that door got a scratch.

You shouted and screamed until your body ached so much, it numbed itself from any physical force. You collapsed on the ground, sniffing, crying, praying even for somebody to save you.

Devon was two years older than you. He was a kindred spirit, always up to no good. He always told you he would marry you one day because you were the most beautiful girl in the world and he wouldn’t want any other.

What was really beautiful about Devon was despite his dark skin and his curly dark hair, his eyes were a gorgeous shade of coral green. Like the one he kept telling you about. The sea isn’t blue like in England. It isn’t as dark. It’s the mirror of nature.

You held his letter against your chest. Just before you left for Hogwarts, you told him that he can write you letters if he wanted to.

He did. Only one because after this one, he was murdered by nobody else but your family. You don’t even know where he’s buried, where his grave is... it’s as if he fell from the face of the Earth.

A twelve year-old boy named Devon McKingley only existed in your memory and in that letter.

---

You haven’t moved from your bed the whole night and day. You haven’t had breakfast and you haven’t had lunch. You did not want to leave your room. As much as it felt like a prison, it was the only place you could feel safe and unbothered.

At the same time it brought you anxiety because sooner or later, he will come in and demand that code from you.

You sat up with puffy eyes directed to the desk. Your head hurt, eyes hurt, heart...hurt.

Eyes were soley focused on the desk and with your blanket wrapped around you, you made your way to the desk and sat down.

Your head felt as if it was falling left and right. Like someone was pulling you by the ears, left and right.

Though it was just a feeling. You grieved Devon’s death already, you’ve moved on from him a long time ago. It was just the sudden information. You grieved for the father you thought you knew and for the fragile, kind old man you used to call your grandfather, who turned out to be a cold-blooded killer.

Sometimes you wonder how could, from all the lives you dreamed of, all the movies you wanted to live in, you ended up in a shitty mystery thriller. A comedy would be nice... maybe a romance movie where the boy you would least expect would come and save you.

You burried your head in your hands and let out a groan. You don’t even know if they graduated... or not... or if he moved on. He probably moved on.

There was a wobble in the door knob and slowly, you looked over, expecting a tall, dark man but instead getting a lanky, curly-haired boy with a giddy grin on his face.

“Sirius?” you quirked an eyebrow, looking up at God, then back at him with narrowed and suspicious eyes. Standing up closely, you poked him a bit in the chest to see if he was real. You poked his cheeks as well, wondering.

He took your hand and rolled his eyes. “Pretty, I know but we have to go.” he tried to pull you away but you pulled back. He widened his eyes and groaned. “I did not just knock out the most famous dark wizards of all kind, (y/n). Now let’s get out of here.”

He pulled, you pulled back. “What’s on 3rd November?”

He let out a laugh, cupping your face and looking at your eyes. “Easy. Sandwich day.”

You didn’t even think twice to pull him into a tight- grip hug, wrapping your legs around his waist and knocking him on the ground. He laughed as he hugged you back, hearing you sob into his neck. He took you in; into his embrace, into his heart because you? You were worth it.

“You make me happy too.” he whispered back.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Text

January AU Writing Challenge

I think at this point we all wish we could live in an Alternative Universe and for the month of January I will be. I am celebrating reaching 300 followers with a writing challenge! Thank you so much for your support and positivity!

Each week will be a different theme and each day will have a prompt. You can send in asks for any of the characters below and I will update the list as we go!

Make your requests HERE

Characters to choose from:

Pedro Boys: Javier Pena, Agent Whiskey, Oberyn Martell, Pero Tovar, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Maxwell Lord, Max Phillips, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales, Ezra (Prospect), Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Oscar Boys: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia, Llewyn Davis, Nathan Bateman, Evgeni (W.E), Poe Dameron

Week One Theme: College AU January 1st-7th

1 - You keep reserving the good study room in the corner of the library with the windows- Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

2 - My friend dragged me to this party, and I just saw my ex quick make out with me -Javier Peña

3 - My computer crashed, and you’re the student worker at the IT center. - Evgeni

4- I’ve been sitting in this seat all semester. Why did you decide to sit in it today?- Max Phillips

5- We’re studying in the library, and there are two people very obviously fucking in the stacks, and we keep sharing embarrassed glances - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

6 - I’ve ordered take out every night this week, and you always seem to be my delivery person

7 - Every single table in the union is full. Do you mind if I just sit here for a while? - Llewyn Davis

Week Two Theme: Store AU (Book, flower, coffee shop) January 8th-14th

8 - Barista and person who has a ridiculous coffee order- Maxwell Lord

9 - At the coffee shop, there is a chess set in the corner, and every morning, I move one piece. Later in the day, someone else always moves a piece too. I’m dying to know who I’m playing against. - Nathan Bateman

10 - you give me a different fake name every time you come into Starbucks, and I just want to know your real name bc you’re cute, but here I am scribbling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino. - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

11 I like buying books at this one bookstore in particular because you work here and I think you’re cute au. - Oberyn Martell

12 - I only came to this coffee shop bookstore cause I was thirsty and it was nearby, and I saw you reading and drinking at one of the tables and kept coming back au- Marcus Pike

13 - when you paid for your book, you kept talking about how much you were looking forward to it, so I read it too out of curiosity, and we bonded over it au- Ezra (Prospect)

14 - You buy a weird amount of flowers, and I’m concerned as to why- Ezra (Prospect)

Week Three Theme: Modern AU January 15th- 21st

15 - My pet ran away, I got fired from my job, it started raining out of nowhere, and I fell in the mud, and you’re just a random stranger at my bus stop, but I need someone to talk to.

16 - I adopted a kid, and you help me take care of them all the time since we’re neighbors, but you came over and got so involved in the kid’s life so much they think that we’re both their parents instead of just me. - Marcus Moreno

17 - I met you at a convention, and you’re cosplaying Person B to my OTP, and I’m cosplaying Person A

18- We’re internet friends, and we’re meeting up in real life today, and I’m super paranoid because what if you’re a deranged killer and– omg, you’re perfect. - Nathan Bateman

19 - Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but can you go on the bungee jumping thing with me? Because I’m too scared to go by myself. - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

20 - You keep coming in to get your laptop fixed, but I’m pretty sure you’re breaking it on purpose, but you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide. - Marcus Moreno

21 - We’re playing Monopoly in the local library, and the game just got serious; I think the librarians are about to kick us out. - Poe Dameron

Week Four Theme: Parents/Expecting Family AU January 22nd - 28th

22 - you’ve been sleeping at mine because your house is being renovated, and we aren’t even dating, yet every time you wake up to the baby crying and sigh, “I’ll go,” I feel like we might as well be married. - Poe Dameron

23 - our children are in the same class, and we both hate their teacher. Eventually, the parents’ evenings are just us competing who can call out snarkier comments. - Maxwell Lord (Also my darling Kat’s birthday)

24 - our kid is only a year old, but they already rule the household and every single aspect of our lives. - Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

25 - we are the only two parents who agreed to attend the school trip (bonus: “so I guess we share this hotel room?”) - Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

26- “the scans have just come through, and it’s been revealed that we were wrong. You’re not having a baby…you’re having two! congratulations!” - Maxwell Lord

27 - “fine, fine, fine. rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go calm down the baby.” “glad that we’re dealing with this like adults.” - Nathan Bateman

28 - we left you to babysit our kid for literally three hours. What happened?!?- Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales (guest starring: Benny the babysitter)

Bonus Days

29- Called tech support and flirted with the geek squad tech working the phones by themselves - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

30 - Ran into each other at the bookstore and tried to get the last copy. - Marcus Moreno

31- We’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks, and holy shit, it turned out you’re my fifth grader’s teacher. Oh god, this embarrassing! - Maxwell Lord

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @ghostwiththemostbitch @zannemes @oldstuffnewstuff @anetteaneta @a-seeker-of-imagination @artsymaddie @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @maxlordsgf

#January Writing Challenge #AU Prompts #Pedro Pascal #Oscar Isaac #Autumn Writes

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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years

Text

rosemary’s corner

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2,788

summary: There’s something up with Bucky.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.

a/n: This is dedicated to @johnnynunzio. I love you so, so much and I’m so proud of you.

There was something up with Bucky.

And Sam could call him paranoid all he wanted, but at the end of the day, Steve Rogers knew his best friend—goddamnit—and he knew something was going on.

Bucky had gotten into the habit of disappearing for hours on end—sometimes entire nights—without warning, only to reappear and act as though he had been in the Tower the whole time. And even though he wasn’t big on hanging out with the rest of the team before, it had gotten even worse over the past few months. Hell, when he was with the team, he spent the entire time staring at his phone.

Steve’s brows furrowed as he stepped out of the elevator. He’d spent the past four hours down in the gym, desperately trying to figure out what the hell was going on with his best friend.

But if he couldn’t figure it out, maybe FRIDAY could.

“Hey, Fri?” He called out as he shut his bedroom door.

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

The heat of the water turns his skin pink as he scrubs at his hair. “Do you know where Bucky’s been going?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers.”

When the A.I. doesn’t continue, he frowns up at the ceiling as though she was up there. “... Can you tell me where he is?”

The A.I. sounded almost sorry as she said, “I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, but Sergeant Barnes asked me to not tell anyone his whereabouts.”

“Even me?”

“Yes, even you.”

And okay, yeah, that kind of really fucking hurts. It hurts that Bucky is keeping something from him because in their hundred years or so of being alive, they’d never kept secrets from each other. Shit, Bucky had even told Steve when he first got his hands up a dame’s skirt way back in ‘34.

They told each other everything.

“Alright,” the blond said as he shut off the water. “Guess it’s time for Plan C.”

Plan C, as it turns out, requires a little more time. It means waiting until Bucky gets back to the Tower and then waiting for him to leave again.

But apparently that’s even harder than he thought it would be since trying to catch the former Winter Soldier leaving is like trying to catch a ghost.

It took him almost two weeks to finally catch him. It was a little after nine, and the rest of the team had retreated to their respective bedrooms for the night.

Steve, however, spent almost half an hour by his door, ear pressed to the wood and listening for the tell tale sound of Bucky’s door opening from across the hall.

When he finally heard the creak at precisely 9:42 PM, he makes sure to wait a few minutes before following him out. He took the stairs, bolting down each flight. He had to wait several long minutes for the elevator to catch up, watching as Bucky zipped up his jacket before heading out into the cool autumn air.

Not for the first time, he cursed his best friend’s ability to sneak through the streets of New York almost undetected. Plan A had been Bucky just telling his best friend where he was going as he should’ve done as his goddamn best friend, and if that had happened like Steve had hoped, he wouldn’t be traversing down tenth, after having to follow him through several subway rides.

He’s even more confused when he started to spot the NYU signs littering the area.

He stopped in his tracks as Bucky stepped into a familiar looking store, a string of lights glittering brightly in the window display despite the late hour.

He vaguely remembered walking past the shop with him a few weeks before, but when he’d told Bucky that they should stop in sometime, he’d immediately clammed up and shrugged, claiming that it was probably too hipstery for either of their tastes.

Which, to be fair, it was really close to the New York University campus.

Steve got a little closer, just enough to peek in through the window that had ‘Rosemary’s Corner’ emblazoned across it.

The store was the perfect picture of cozy, though it did have that hipster feel that both him and Bucky tried to avoid. Shelves full of records lined the front end of the shop, lights hung up along the tops of each one. He could just barely see what seemed to be a coffee station towards the back, a menu with titles such as ‘Pumpkin Spice Marshmallow Latte’ and ‘Blueberry Delight Cappuccino’ hung up on the wall behind it. A vintage record player in the corner was crooning out the familiar voice of Billie Holiday, just barely audible outside the shop.

And there in the back, amidst the waist high shelves, was his best friend. Steve’s eyes widened as he watched him grab a record from a cart next to him, handing it to a girl who seemed to be the only employee present. There was a flush in his cheeks, a shy smile tugging at his lips, that the blond hadn’t seen since the forties.

The girl seemed to be just as enamoured as him as she placed the record amongst the stacks. Her movements were slow, unhurried, as she took each record that Bucky offered her. She seemed so content to just be in his presence.

Bucky’s mouth moved silently and he lit up like a Christmas tree as he watched the girl erupt into giggles. Her teeth caught her lower lip as she moved to shelve yet another record, but she froze as the man’s flesh hand reached up to gently tug it, releasing it. The two of them were stuck in place, too lost in each other to think about the task at hand.

And despite the fact that anyone could walk past at any moment and see them through the window, Steve felt like he was intruding on something… private. The intimacy between the two so apparent that it sent a blush to his cheeks to have seen it. Just before he turned to leave, he saw Bucky rub the back of his neck in embarrassment, the both of them attempting to pretend that they didn’t just have a moment.

He went back the next day, when he knew that Bucky would be stuck at the Tower for at least a few more hours. He wanted to be able to talk to her in private, to maybe ask her intentions.

And yeah, it was really shady for him to go behind Bucky’s back, but he wasn’t about to just let some girl walk in and fuck with his emotions if she didn’t intend on staying.

So he made the trek up to tenth once again, though it went a lot faster now that he knew where he was going and he didn’t have to hide.

Rosemary’s Corner looked almost the exact same during daylight, though Steve wasn’t sure why he was expecting any different. The only difference is that there’s a few more patrons than just Bucky during the day all spread out through the shop.

The girl’s sitting at the cash register towards the back, flipping through a book. She looked up as the bells above the door chimed with his entrance, an easy smile gracing her features. His eyes are drawn to her shirt, recognizing it as the flannel that Bucky had been wearing the night before over his t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled in order to accommodate her—she wasn’t exactly the size of the super soldier—but she looked so cozy it was hard to imagine her ever wishing him harm. “Hi! Welcome to Rosemary’s!”

He tried to pretend as though he’s not there to interrogate her, perusing through the stacks in what he hopes is a casual and aimless manner.

“Hi.”

Steve jumped, whirling around to stare at the girl. “Hey.” The super soldier was more than a little surprised that she was able to sneak up at him—he had espionage training from Natasha fucking Romanoff. But even so, she’d somehow managed to approach him without making the slightest noise.

“You’re James’s friend, Steve,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake as she gave him her name.

He eyed her hand warily. “How do you know me?”

Her eyebrows rose as she stared at him, reminding him a little too much of how a certain redhead would look at him when he was being particularly stupid. “It takes more than a baseball hat to fool me, Captain.”

Swallowing, he crossed his arms over his chest, going into full Captain mode. “Then I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

But she simply breezed past him, heading for a cart at the end of the aisle with a sign on it that read Don’t want it? Leave it here! Thanks!

He stood there in his spot for what seemed like ages, staring after her. Did she really just disregard him? He was Captain fucking America. No one had disregarded him like that since he was in the USO shows.

“You know, I used to come here everyday when I was a student,” she said, pushing up the sleeves of the flannel to her elbows, before nudging the cart towards the first row of stacks. “Back then, it was owned by Albert Cook. He opened it for his wife back in ‘97 because his wife, Rosemary, missed records. Everyone was using CDs at that point, and it just wasn’t the same. They added the coffee shop in ‘02.”

Steve followed her like a puppy as she reshelved the records. He wasn’t sure where she was going with all of this, but she’d made it clear that she wasn’t going to put up with him pushing her around.

“They hired me here my freshman year, but I was here even when I wasn’t working. It’s my favorite place in the entire world, and Albert and Rosemary became my home away from home. It’s not easy moving so far from home for college, but they helped me. A lot. Two years after I graduated, it became mine.” She paused, staring at the Cher record in her hand. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and Steve could feel the sorrow rolling off of her in waves. “Albert passed and in his will… I told Rosemary that I wasn’t going to take the shop from her, that she could have it, but she insisted I take it. Apparently her and Albert had decided to put me in his will ages before he died…” Her eyes crinkled up as she laughed, “I thought their kids were going to shit themselves. They were so mad.” She shrugged as she finally put the Cher record in its place. “Rosemary didn’t really understand why they were so mad about me getting the shop when they never came in. But she moved upstate with her kids and I moved into the apartment upstairs. I still see her every week for lunch.”

“Excuse my interruption,” Steve said when he finally sensed a pause. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

She finally turned to him then, looking so open and honest that it took him aback. “You’re here to question me about James, and I get that. He’s been through a lot.”

“He’s told you?” He asked, blue eyes wide. “About all the… HYDRA stuff?” At her nod, he narrowed his eyes at her. “But he never tells anyone about—”

“Well, he tells me,” she snapped, her hands going to her hips. “I know about all the things he’s done and I don’t care. He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” The girl closed her eyes as she paused, taking in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, the storm in her eyes had settled. “I need you to know that I love James. I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt him. And while I can appreciate that he has a best friend like you—”

“You don’t like your loyalty being questioned,” Steve finished, much quieter. He felt as though he’d been put in his place, which didn’t happen often. “I… I don’t either. Not when it comes to Bucky.”

A sarcastic smile settled on her lips. “We have that in common, Captain.”

The two of them went quiet as she went back to her task, occasionally having to go to the front to ring up a customer or make a cup of coffee. At some point, Steve started helping her, handing her the records just as Bucky had been doing the night before. Customers came and went, but as it got later, it got less and less populated.

“I changed the hours a few months after I got the shop,” she mused as she glanced over at the few college kids studying at one of the tables. One of them had put on a Hozier album, the earthy songs sounding like they belonged on a record. “It’s better for college students. Gives them a place to study or just hang out late at night, and they can choose any album from the used record wall to play for free.” Her nose scrunched as she smiled. “And I’m not much of a morning person, so it gives me a reason to sleep in until noon.”

“Does he know you love him?” Steve asked suddenly, cheeks going a particular shade of pink. “Bucky, I mean.”

“Yeah, I got that,” she said, nudging him. But she was just as flushed as him. “I hope so. I haven’t exactly been subtle. But I might have to make a move soon if he doesn’t.”

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You should. Make a move, that is.”

“He can be rather shy, can’t he?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Both of them looked up, startled, to see the man of the hour standing there in the doorway. Neither of them had heard the bells above the door as he entered.

“James,” she breathed, a fond smile painting her lips as she saw him. “You’re early tonight.”

His ocean eyes softened just a tad as they flickered over to her, but hardened juts as quickly when he turned his attention back to the other man. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you last night,” he said, apology clear in his eyes.

“Why?”

Steve flinched at the harshness of his tone, but knowing that he more than deserved it. “I was worried, Buck. You weren’t telling me where you were going, and you disappeared for so long and I was just… I was worried.”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Bucky said as he moved to stand in between his girl and his best friend. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know that.”

“Then why—”

“James,” she said, cutting him off, “He’s here because he cares. We both do.” The man searched her eyes, his metal hand gently resting on her elbow. “I’m okay. Captain America can’t scare me.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, once again feeling like an intruder. He’d never seen his best friend so taken with a girl, so... enraptured. “Don’t worry. Your girl put me in my place faster than I could blink.”

The brunet flushed, shaking his head. “She’s not—”

“I think I should go,” he said, backing towards the door. “I’ll leave you two alone. But, Buck—” He nodded towards the girl, who had slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t be afraid to bring her around the Tower. I’m sure everyone would love her.”

Bucky nodded once, his arm moving to wrap around the girl’s waist and bring her into his chest. “I will.”

As Steve stepped out into the night air, he was shocked by how late it had gotten, by just how long he’d spent in the shop. A breeze promising an early winter ruffled his hair and sent a chill through him. As he wrapped his jacket tighter around him, he took one last look at the two through the window.

The girl was pressed up against him, eyes sparkling as she stared up at Bucky. He could clearly read the words ‘I love you’ on her lips and the shock on his best friend’s face. Without a second thought, she pressed her lips to his, her fingers tangling in his hair. It took a few seconds for his brain to start working again, but when it did, his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her in for another kiss just as she started to pull away.

Steve headed for the subway, a smirk on his lips. “You’re in good hands, jerk.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

Text

tua s1 rewatch with my roommate

episode one (I forgot for the first episode oops):

I have been treated to pictures of a lovely cosplay of Klaus who won a cosplay contest my roommate was in !!

Klaus putting his arm in front of Five during the funeral fight is good shit

“I have heard like nothing about Vanya” “yeah that’s pretty much how she’s treated in show as well”

“I can see why he’s the fandom favorite” - about Klaus

“Istanbul is in the firST EPISODE?”

I forGOT about the “rapists can climb” line when he breaks into Vanya’s apartment omg but also like,, his dumb arm wound

Episode two:

HERR CARLSON

Aww baby fives first time travel his little smile. Baby. Baby boy. And the dawning horror in the apocalypse baby nO

Five: you got anything stronger

Also five: takes one sip and then fills up more, takes another sip, and then immediately puts it down ?????

The motel dude for hazel and cha cha just looks at them like “yeah these are serial killers” and just rolls with it

Also actually why tf doesn’t the commission spring for better stuff?? Why would they cut costs?? They time travel? They could game the stock market so hard ?????? Give the assassins their own rooms omg

Also why didn’t five like. Crush his tracker. Why did he just leave it whole and intact outside of the Griddys.

Forgot how much I love Agnes

(Oh man it is storming bad here it just BOOMED)

Also idk if Diego actually deserved that taser hmmmmm but also like,, communication lads five was literally right there killing people and Diego is like “hmm something is up here” like. Yeah Diego ur big brother “I can get my sibling in trouble for something” senses are tingling

Wow I really did repress all these Allison and Luther scenes huh. Also it’s still super cute that Allison read Claire moon books

Allison: dads heart gave out, which wasn’t how I was expecting to find out dad had a heart but it tracks

“SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE BEN... said with love 😘”

Did five actually sleep at Vanyas?? The sofa looks undisturbed but he had to wait for work hours to interrogate the meritech people,, five,, please sleep. The whole “IF YOU CALL ME YOUNG MAN ONE MORE TIME” interaction makes more sense with five on. Zero sleep.

I didn’t remember that Patch straight up knows about the umbrella academy oops. Like she clocks Diego as overcompensating for his childhood. Queen

Is that an umbrella adademy Diego cross stitch on Diego’s wall?? Did he buy that? Make it?? Did grace make it?

Vanya, walking into the academy: five??? five? pspspspspsps

Also like. Who was Vanyas therapist??? Clearly they did not help her

Aww the tow truck driver :(

I know the show wants me to dislike Patrick I KNOW,, and I think her fathers funeral is extenuating circumstance?? But still Patrick is valid for not giving an inch regarding his ex who mind controlled his child. Vanya didn’t really deserve Allison snapping at her but like. She had some good points. Allison arguably would have had to deal with vanyas book more than anyone else

Five smiling proudly at Klaus’s drama at meritech bless but also KLAUS DONT BREAK GLASS ON YOURSELF

Me, spotting Leonard: BASTARD

Love how everyone greets Diego in the gym and don’t question all his knives or anything like “yeah that’s Diego he lives here and loves knives :)”

Why could Leonard have not been like. A normal ass guy. Vanya needs friends who sympathize with her holy shit get this person some socialization

Pogo really did have to lead these kids by hand to the recording rooms because literally no one was super invested in reginalds ~murder mystery~

ahafahJAGSJWGAI MY ROOMMATE JUST SAID POGO IS THE BEST CHARACTER SO FAR,,,, I will probably never include pogo in my fics because I do Not Care About Him lmaoooo

Aww five does to see Dolores and being like “it’s been a rough couple of days :(“,,,,, baby,,,, but also tag yourself I’m hazel going “elastic wrist splint yesssssss”

Five I am begging you PLEASE get some sleep

OH FIVE SHAKING DIEGO IN THE APOCALYPSE TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP OHHHHH OH :(

Episode 3:

my roommate is super faceblind which is an issue bc she identifies people mainly by hairstyle so seeing the s2 stuff on tumblr is tripping her over bc she keeps seeing diego and going ??? who is that again? bc she’s seen his longer hair

okay there is no way that the eggs that grace put in that pan are the ones that ended up on the smiley face breakfast plate,,, but also grace that whole scene was a mood honestly i would be like “okay maybe mom killed dad BUT he deserved it sooooo”

“what the FUCK” - my roommate about cha-cha’s shitty wound care where she holds a curling iron against her arm

i didn’t remember that five got shOT AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE did i just erase that from my memory?? i mean yeah it’s a graze but he stitches it up and then slaps a bandaid on it so he has a wound that needed stitches on his shoulder for the entire show ??????? is he okay???? that would make moving your arm,,, painful,,,,,

a bandaid just slapped over it i’m actively yelling

“Sometimes when I see a million gifs of a show before I watch I get really surprised when they talk but he is exactly what I expected” - my roommate, about five

“I noticed they’ve only really showed diego in really badly lit scenes so far” - my roommate defending her lack of ability to recognize diego

i’m still laughing about pogo literally having to point out the murder tapes and now allison and luther are investigating and just. allison is lowkey defending grace and i’m laughing

“why is he saying woodwork is embarrassing that’s like one of the most middle of the wood hobbies to have. you’re respectable to grandpas who used to carve wooden ducks AND twenty-year-olds who can’t make anything to save their lives” - my roommate on leonard peabody

“i think he’s already crossing some lines he’s met this lady ONCE” - roommate on leonard/vanya

five having flashbacks in the car :(

did allison and luther draw straws for who went to fetch which sibling?? allison was like “dibs on vanya” and luther was just like “aww :(”

five luther and klaus in the van - BOYS NIGHT BOYS NIGHT let’s go pick up diego

“the coat he’s wearing does have a nice swish to it” - roommate about klaus’s coat

luther being like “you’re just as messed up as the rest of us and we’re all you have” like luther,,, baby,,,,, you literally ARE all he has,,,,,, his family is the only thing he’s really cared about since he was thirteen and maybe before then :(

“I can’t tell if those are supposed to be cake or yeast donuts... i think extruded donuts are cake donuts but she said she lets them rise so maybe they’re yeast?” - my roommate focusing on all the things that i do not

sometimes i forget that hazel and cha-cha pretended to be private detectives trying to find a lost child in a potentially dangerous situation,,, five would be disgusted

“she shouldn’t get a vote” “i was gonna say i agree with you” “she should get a vote!!” this is peak sibling energy honestly i think i’ve had that exact interaction with my siblings voting for a movie or something

“hashtag android rights”

“I want to be the tailor who gets a call one day that says ‘i want you to make clothes for a chimpanzee”

is it telling that only luther in the flashback didn’t really talk to grace at all,, i mean five didn’t either but i think he was gone by that point in the flashback ????

wait diego tells grace that she worked for him for thirty years,,, the kids are 29 and later it’s implied she was built bc vanya kept killing nannies when they were like four but maybe s2 clarifies that some more?? or diego just is rounding up

“that’s an interesting fabric to her skirt” - my roommate about grace’s outfit

forgot that hazel and cha cha broke the door to the manor busting in,, do they ever fix that?? we’re only at episode three do they spend the rest of the season with their door open to anyone on the streets

okay that bathtub is WAY too small to allow for klaus to be moving his elbows about like that underwater smh

“how is HE useful on mission??” my roommate about klaus

where is the SECURITY SYSTEM??? luther LITERALLY said that reggie was more paranoid and yet some assassin can just bust down the door and have unrestricted access????? he built a whole ROBOT but no security system????????

“maybe it was like,, practice for the kids? someone breaks in and they take care of it? wait no that doesn’t explain the thirteen years they’ve been gone?”

“why WAS he on the moon?” - about luther

“I want to see what she’s embroidering!!” about grace during the gunfight in the living room she’s absolutely ignoring diego getting shot at

what is a rope-a-dope,,,, diego yells “EVER HEARD OF A ROPE-A-DOPE???” at luther but like. no i haven’t. what does that MEAN diego

aww i forgot they played sinnerman, love that song

“what are you doing dude, rumor has it you’re not shooting at me that’s all you need to do” i mean. the roommate is not wrong. allison could just end the fight with a yell. i understand she’s pissed off and has rumor trauma but like cha cha is actively trying to murder them

how is luther not winning he literally has super strength. does hazel have super strength? just punch the man and knock him out jesus y’all suck at this smh

why is there such intense music we all been knew about luther’s strength - oH HIS BODY

forgot about that

is it allison’s fault that klaus got kidnapped because she didn’t literally just rumor them to give up?? like she literally has that power. she could have been like “i heard a rumor you left and forgot about us” it didn’t even need to be violent?? i understand she has rumor trauma but this i feel is allowable circumstances

diego showing his worry about vanya by getting angry which honestly i think all the siblings do that rip none of these idiots have even heard of healthy communication in their LIVES

you know,, i don’t think vanya can drive. she takes the bus. she took a taxi to leonard’s house. we see her walking a lot. does she know how to drive?? i imagine that the umbrella academy were taught bc of mission related stuff but,,, vanya wasn’t?? that’s just depressing tbh

#tua rewatch #i cannot beliEVE she likes pogo so much #pogo was complicit in the hargreeves abuse no i wont change my mind #i would be more likely to forgive him if he didnt keep mentioning how much reginald loved them #pogo fam dont say that #youre just going to feed luthers daddy issues #more to come #i cannot BELIEVE i forgot five got shot/grazed in the arm by a bullet #he slaps a BANDAID OVER IT #right after i said five is better at woundcare than cha cha with the curling iron #he just #slaps a bandaid on it #not even a big bandaid #that motherfucker

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winter-turtle · 3 years

Text

House Of Wolves - Chapter 3 - Winterturtle - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Chapter 3: Hope Is Fatal

(posting now because I'm a dumbass and I forgot to post it here after I put it on AO3)

Bound to a chair, he couldn’t move around too much. He was in pain.

“You need to learn how to be still.”

No, stop.

“The pain won’t be as bad once you stop squirming.”

He tried, but he couldn’t stifle the scream completely.

“Do you think someone else will give you a breather?”

It hurts.

“It’s for your own good.”

Peter’s eyes flew open with sharp intake of breath. He wouldn’t scream. He couldn’t. He’d learned long ago not to do it as it would show his enemies that he was weak.

And Peter wasn’t weak.

His hammering heart started to slow down to a more reasonable pace as his eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning his surroundings. The memory (nightmare?) began to fade into the back of his mind upon taking in the familiar shapes of his room.

When did he stopped thinking about it as a cell?

He was safe. Nobody could touch him here.

But… he didn’t fall asleep here. He didn’t remember walking back here either, so that only meant that someone had to carry him.

Again, he suspected who.

When one spends most of the time in confinement, it was only natural that they had a lot of time to think about things. That’s exactly how Peter was doing. He thought. He wondered. He went over every single interaction he’s had with the heroes in hopes of figuring out the reason why they were… trying.

More precisely why Stark was trying. Yes, the man might be persistent and his stubbornness seemed to turn everything into a disaster as the trip to the gym had proven, but Peter just couldn’t sense any hostile intent.

None of this made any sense. Why would people like the Avengers show any care to him?

“Hurting their own children is not something normal parents do.”

Peter shook his head. Those stupid words refused his mind since they left Stark’s mouth. “Normal parents…” he said softly under his breath, as if testing how the words felt. Normal. How normal parents behaved? How would his life turn out to be if he had normal life?

Then again, he never was normal, was he?

Deciding that the constant swirling of his thoughts won’t let him fall back asleep, Peter slipped from underneath the covers and walked towards the door. Moving around always helped. He stood there for a moment before placing his hand on the handle. What were the chances of it opening?

“Here goes nothing.”

He pushed and to his surprise, the door opened. “Huh.” Okay, so he wasn’t locked, but there was no doubt that the AI was watching his every move. Well, don’t look gifted horse in the mouth, he thought as he walked.

Turn the corner, first window, second window, third window…

Peter stopped before the fourth window. He didn’t get past this point the last time. “Okay,” he whispered to himself, raising his hand, “okay.” Ever so slowly and with bated breath, his hand inched towards the invisible barrier. His heartbeat picked up as he expected the stabbing pain any second.

But no pain came. No stabbing of needles, no sudden lightheadedness and no sudden loss of consciousness. Peter only released the breath when his hand was fully outstretched in front of him.

Peter put his other hand in front of him and took a step forward. Then another one. Then another one and then, when he realized that nothing was about to happed, lowered his hands so he wouldn’t look like a total weirdo that was pretending to walk like a zombie.

Stark kept his word.

Another speck of doubt fell on what once used to be carefully balanced scales, tilting it even more.

More or less, Peter found his way to the gym by following his nose. The room was dark, only illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the windows under the tall ceiling. The light fell on various machines which in turn threw long shadows all around the room. When Peter was little, he’d been terrified of shadows like these. He’d felt like they would turn into a monster that would drag him away.

And then he’d spent five days in almost complete dark all on his own.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” his mother smiled sweetly after he was let out, tired and with dried tear tracks on his cheeks. “The only monsters in the world are those people who call themselves heroes.”

Okay, no. He was getting side-tracked. A nice workout session was bound to clear his head.

Soon, Peter fell into a familiar routine. Warm-up, push-ups, sit-ups, some gymnastics… it did wonders to his mind. For the first time in four weeks, he felt himself truly relax.

Still, a tiny part of him remained on edge. Maybe it was the childish part of him that somehow remained in him despite the countless attempts to beat it out of him, but he could swear he saw the shadows shift every once in a while. Yet every time he looked, there was nothing amiss – just the same equipment sitting on the same spot.

Peter dropped down from the rings with almost inaudible thump. His eyes closed.

“A bit late for a workout.”

Peter whipped around, pinpointing the source of voice. Black Widow sat on a nearby bench, almost shrouded by the shadows, her gaze trained on the dumbbell in her hand.

So he wasn’t paranoid; it was most likely her who caused the occasional shift of the shadows. But that left one question.

Why didn’t his spidey-sense alert him to her presence?

“I must say, that was quite impressive set of moves.”

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked instead.

She switched arms. “I live here. Can’t I come for a late-night workout session too?”

Peter opted to remain silent. The woman continued through her set before standing up and putting the dumbbell to its original spot. “Care to give me a hand?” she asked as she lied down on a bench and grabbed ahold of a barbell.

Not a single of her footsteps could be heard, even with his super hearing. Peter found it impressive.

He didn’t know why, but he followed. He got ahold of the metal bar, securing it in case Romanov’s arms would buckle.

“You know,” she began, her voice slightly strained, “I always come here too when sleep seems impossible. Those night when something is keeping you up…”

Silence.

“So, what kept you up? You looked pretty tired at the movies.”

Peter huffed. “What kept you up?”

She shrugged. For a while, Peter thought that was the end of the conversation, but the universe loved to prove him wrong.

“It’s confusing, isn’t it? When two worlds clash and suddenly you are left to question everything.”

Peter didn’t like the direction the conversation was headed. “What do you know?”

“A lot.”

Okay, even if Peter was vaguely aware of Romanov’s background, the answer wasn’t helpful at all. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Despite the warning, despite me saying what I did… you know I could just let go of this barbell and let it crush your throat. Nobody would be able to do anything to stop me.”

“Then by all means do. Feel free. You have a perfect opportunity,” she said, perfectly unfazed.

Peter stared at her as if she was a particularly difficult piece of puzzle.

She wasn’t afraid of him.

Why wasn’t she afraid of him?

The weight gave a sudden jerk down. Peter instinctively gripped it, preventing it from dipping further. His slightly widened brown eyes locked with Romanov’s green, trying to read them, although unsuccessfully. But whatever the woman was looking for in his, she must have found it.

With a final grunt, Romanov put the weight back and stood up. She gave Peter a onceover before nodding to herself and then headed to the door, dabbing her sweat away with the towel.

“Why did you come here?” he asked in lowly before she crossed the threshold.

She shrugged. “Just a late-night workout. Same as you. And with that out of the way, I believe the sleep will come easier. You should head to bed too. Growing boys need their rest so they can get big and strong.”

Peter stared at the spot until he was sure he was alone. His mind was whirling.

Was this some kind of test? It certainly felt like it. But if it was, it brought on a question of whether he passed or not. He didn’t know which option he preferred.

A glint coming from underneath one of the bicycles caught his eye. Peter, pretending to tie his shoelace, picked up the object. A smile slowly spreading across his face at the sight of the forgotten black bobby pin. The hair stuck to it was long, too long, so that ruled out Black Widow as the owner. Peter doubted she would be careless enough to leave this lying here.

Finally something he could use.

He resumed the “tying” of the shoelaces when in reality, he slipped the pin into his shoe. He stood up and left.

Getting the bracelets open took him longer than he would like to admit, but prying small panels off with nothing but a bobby pin wasn’t the easiest task. But here he was, sitting on a bathroom floor, staring at the exposed mechanism. If he was correct, these parts were responsible for dampening his powers.

Peter positioned his wrists so they would be in line with the ends of the bobby pin. He had to do it correctly if he wanted to succeed. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he messed up.

It could shock him unconscious, release a lethal dose of the sedatives… the list went on.

Taking a steadying breath, he curled his hands into fists, and narrowed his eyes in concentration.

“Three, two… one.”

He brough his wrists together in one swift motion, stabbing the exposed areas at the same time. The bracelets let out a single spark of light each and thin trail of smoke.

“Well, that probably short-circuited something else too,” Peter muttered as he closed the exposed areas. You could spot the faint scratches on the sleek silver surface only if you looked for them. After he removed the pin from the soap and tucked it where, hopefully, nobody would find it, he returned to the living area. Had had mapped the field the camera could see, which allowed him to pick the blind spot big enough to test the results.

He placed his palms on the wall. “Here goes nothing,” he said and jumped.

He didn’t fall.

He didn’t fall!

Grin threatened to split his face in two. “Yes! Yes!” he quietly cheered. Wasting no more time, Peter climbed the rest of the way up and nestled himself into the corner. The familiar feeling was soothing him instantly. Well, it looked like he was about to get first full night of good sleep since he ended up at this place.

That was his last thought before he fell asleep, the corners of his lips quirked upwards.

“Friday, is the kid awake yet?” Tony asked from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. When Natasha came to him earlier and told him her night encounter, it actually put him in a good mood.

“I am unable to get my eyes on Peter.”

Tony’s smile froze. “Is he in a bathroom?” The kid didn’t get sick again, did he?

“Negative, Boss. He left the bathroom in early morning hours and then I lost sight of him.”

“Bracelets?”

“I am unable to detect the location from those.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat at that. “Comb through the footage.” With heavy heart, he abandoned the coffee and headed to the kid’s room.

Kid, for both of our sake, but mostly for yours, I hope you didn’t run.

Peter woke up to a sound that sounded suspiciously like a wheeze. He let out disgruntles sigh and turned his head to look over his shoulder. To his surprise, he found Stark below him, his arms awkwardly in front of him.

“Why do you look like you’re about to have a heart attack?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re stuck to a ceiling?!”

The brief flash of confusion turned into understanding once he realized where he was. “Oh. Right.”

“Oh? Right?! That’s all you’re going to say about it?! You could’ve fallen!”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Stark.” Mr. Stark, huh? Now when did that happen? “I won’t fall.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I know,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “My powers, remember?”

Wait-

Oh shit, his powers! Mr. Stark knew caught him. “I, uh…”

Smart, Parker. Really smart.

“Right,” Mr. Stark said slowly, “how about you come down?”

Shit, shit, shit- Peter did his best not to outwardly show his panic. He messed up big time. And when there was a mess-up, a punishment usually followed. What a pity. He went so long without one.

Peter could’ve jumped, but he wanted to savor those precious seconds before the pain came, so he started climbing down. Well, the least he could do was to face it like a champ. Like always.

No place for weaknesses.

“Hey, is everything all—"

New voice.

Peter froze still stuck to the wall. Mr. Stark whipped around. It seemed like the time in the room stopped as Wilson and Barnes’ eyes slid from Mr. Stark’s form to him.

Maybe if I don’t move, they won’t see me, Peter thought.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to do that,” Wilson said warily and to be fair, Peter couldn’t blame him. He did attack the man before.

Peter soundlessly lowered himself to the ground, the slight shift of the two newcomers’ bodies making Peter’s own tense in response. He will defend himself should he be attacked.

Mr. Stark stepped in front of him, shielding Peter from the view. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “Leave us. We’ll join you shortly.”

Wilson leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of Peter. The boy didn’t need to be a telepath to know what was going through the man’s head. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Go.”

The man looked like he wanted to protest, but Barnes’ hand on his shoulder stopped him. The former Hydra assassin nodded towards the door. Wilson, though reluctantly, relented. “Okay.”

Once the two were out of the sight, Mr. Stark turned to face Peter and took a step towards him. Here it comes. Peter lifted his head, his jaw clenched as he waited for the blow to land. Will it be a slap or punch? Will it be just his face that gets struck or his torso too? Will he get kicked once he’s on his knees?

Two arms sneaked around his body, one around his arms and one burying itself in his hair, made Peter turn into a statue. But no pain came. The touch was… gentle, actually. The hand in his hair began to cradle through his curls. It felt like someone pulled the plug and all of Peter’s tension went down the drain.

“I’m not mad,” Mr. Stark murmured into his hair, startling Peter and making him free himself from the hold before he could sink into it fully.

“What was that?”

Mr. Stark quirked one eyebrow. “Me saying I’m not mad or the hug?” When Peter didn’t reply, the curiosity turned into a small frown. “Did you ever get hugged?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, plenty. All-all the time,” Peter rushed out, but the lie sounded fake to his own ears.

“Right, as I was saying, I’m not mad, but I have to ask – how did you disable it?”

Peter decided to take the risk and merely shrugged. He fully expected Mr. Stark to press further for the answers, but the man only nodded and said, “Okay. Now come on, breakfast is on the table.”

Peter could only blink after the man. Mr. Stark didn’t strike him. Mr. Stark didn’t strike him! Peter messed up, did something he shouldn’t have done… yet there was no beating. Not even after he refused to say how he disabled the bracelets. All those things would get him pretty beaten up back home, what the hell?

Safe, his mind whispered.

Peter mulled over the word. Safe. Yes, he was safe, wasn’t he? Mr. Stark stepped in front of him, shielding him with his own body. Mr. Stark hugged him.

Nobody could touch him if he was near Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark meant safety. Safety felt nice.

Peter decided he liked Mr. Stark.

The day was spent by the kid glued to the TV, watching one sci-fi movie after another. The rest of Star Wars saga, Alien, Back to the Future, Jurassic Park – it didn’t matter. It was like he tuned out the rest of the world, only acknowledging when someone joined him on the couch with brief glance. Tony couldn’t help the tiny smile at the sight of childish wonder in Peter’s eyes. With all of the training his parents had put him through, there was no doubt that the boy had any time to just… be a kid.

Tony decided not to do anything about the bracelets. That was another point he wanted to bring up – trust. And besides, if the kid wanted to run, he would have done that the moment he disabled the power dampener.

He made a note to clean and basically child-and-villain-proof his workshop. He wanted to see on what level the kid was despite never attending school. He had to have some knowledge if he was able to disable them.

The whole confrontation refused to leave his mind. Peter looked like a deer caught in a headlight once he realized he was sticking to the ceiling. Like he was expecting him to lash out.

The addition of Mr. and Miss in front of their names came as a pleasant shock. Well, except Steve. Steve was still called Call-Me-Steve. And to Steve’s annoyance, the rest of the team took on the nickname as well. Still, it helped to ease the atmosphere between Peter and the group.

The efforts seemed to start paying off, because the kid basically imprinted on Tony like a duckling, checking from time to time if Tony was nearby.

When Tony found Peter sleeping in the same corner the next day, he had a comfy hammock installed there. Though he thought the kid would appreciate it, it was also mostly for peace of Tony’s own mind.

And as it turned out, he was right. Peter’s whole face lit up once he spotted the little nest.

Tony’s heart flooded with warmth.

Tony craned his neck up. “You sure like that book, huh?”

Peter, sitting on a ceiling, glanced over the top before returning his gaze to the pages. “It’s alright.”

Over the days of interacting with their little charge, Tony believed he became fluent in the teen. He never expressed outward joy and Tony for some reason suspected that it was because of the kid’s fear of having the object of his joy taken away. That, or he didn’t know how to properly express what he was feeling, which Tony found relatable.

Another round of laughter came from the group huddled near the TV. The team had taken up watching the aforementioned PSAs, making their local fossil cover his face in embarrassment. Clint was bent over, holding his sides. “Aw, man, these are hilarious.”

“Play the one about reproduction. You can see Call-Me-Steve’s soul leave his body in that one,” Peter said without looking away from the page. Eventually, he looked, but not at the group. He looked at Bucky, who was only half-attempting to hide his staring. “Why are you staring at me so much?”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Peter’s eyebrows knitted together. “Uh, okay? For what exactly?”

“For trying to kill you.”

“Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down? Many people tried to kill me. As you can see, they didn’t succeed.”

Bucky shifted, bowing his head slightly. “I tried… as a Winter Soldier, I was given the order to kill you shortly after you got your powers. I’m sorry.”

Aside from the rowdy group going crazy over the videos, everything was quiet in their little corner.

“Eh, it’s no big deal,” the kid said, making both men turn to him. “I don’t remember it at all, you obviously failed as I’m right here, so… no hard feelings on my side.”

“But I—”

“If you want to hear ‘I forgive you’ from me, then fine. I forgive you. You can cross my name off some list if you have one, but I literally couldn’t care less.”

Tony watched as Barnes’ shoulders fell in acceptance and mentally added him on a list of people that Peter started to slowly warm up to. First it was Natasha, then Rhodey and then Clint being, well, Clint, got jealous and practically started to buy the kid with chocolate. He puffed like a peacock when Peter told him ‘you’re not so bad’.

But Tony knew he was still number one and nobody could take it away from him.

His idle scrolling through SI documents that Pepper labeled as “important” got interrupted by an alert lighting up on his watch. Peter’s vitals were all over the place for the past five minutes.

Peter hadn’t moved from his spot on the ceiling, but it didn’t escape Tony how hunched over the book the kid was, wide eyes furiously going over the page and lips slightly parted. “Pete?” Nothing. “Kid?” Still no response. “Must be hell of a book,” he muttered under his breath.

A broom in the corner caught his attention. Shrugging, he grabbed it and then poked Peter’s side. The effect was instant. The kid yelped and if it wasn’t for his stickiness and quick reflexes, he would’ve fallen. “What the hell, Mr. Stark?” he cried out as he slightly swinged from side to side.

“Breathe!” Tony said, exasperated. “Or you’ll faceplant on the floor when you pass out.”

“You almost made me fall!”

Tony poked the kid’s ribs with the broom handle. “Well, what was I supposed to do? You didn’t react to anything else!”

“Well, maybe I acknowledged you with a hum but your old man ears didn’t catch that.”

Tony let out dramatic gasp. “You sassy little shit,” he said, flipped the broom over and began to playfully whack the boy with it. Peter giggled – actually giggled – and moved out of the broom’s reach. Tony gave chase, eliciting more giggles from the kid. “I’ll let you know that I’m not that old!”

“Whatever makes you feel better, old man,” the kid replied cheekily.

Tony huffed and shook his head. “Kids these days have no respect,” he grumbled. “Just breathe next time.” He went back to the documents, aware that Peter was following him to stay close.

And just when Tony thought that everything went well, of course it had to go to shit.

Tony heard the kid draw in shuddering breath, noticing that he made it through the book. But that wasn’t all that caught his attention. No, he tried and failed to decipher the emotions that rapidly flashed across Peter’s features. In one flash, Tony could’ve sworn that the kid was about to cry.

Just as fast as it appeared, it disappeared, Peter closed the book shut, jumped down, threw the book on the table and stormed from the room. Tony grabbed the book in hopes to find what had upset the kid since he enjoyed it so much. He flipped to the last page and he immediately understood.

“What was that about?” Rhodey asked.

“I’m going to get that girl from that bookstore fired,” he muttered angrily, passing the book to Sam’s waiting hands. Hope was apparently one of the themes; that was the reason Tony got it in the first place. “No wonder he’s upset with an ending like that!”

Sam passed the book to Natasha. “Well, it is a trilogy. If you wanted cliché happy ending, you should've gotten some standalone. Or different author.”

“Tony,” Steve said, “don’t—”

“What, Steve?” he snapped. “Don’t bother trying? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No.”

Tony stopped.

“I wanted to say that whatever went wrong this time, you’ll be able to fix it. You always do.” Tony stared, dumbfounded. Steve continued. “I had my doubts before, but after seeing you two earlier… I was wrong. Whatever you need, we’ll help.”

“Huh. Never would have thought that we would see eye to eye, but… thanks, Cap. I appreciate it,” Tony said, and he meant it. But now onto more pressing matter. “Okay, I’m gonna go talk to him, make sure the kid’s okay.”

“Wait!” Clint called out, making Tony stop. “A bit of advice from seasoned dad to a new dad – if you push a teenager to talk when he doesn’t want to, you’ll do more harm than good. You have to let him blow some steam off first. And until then,” he opened a vent hatch and pulled out a chocolate tablet from now not-so-secret stash, “here.”

Tony accepted the sweet treat. Clint must really want to help if he was willing to pass up on an opportunity to bribe the kid into liking him. “Thanks, Clint.”

He was almost out of the room when he turned around so fast it almost gave everyone a whiplash.

“Hold on… what do you mean a new dad?”

In the darkness of his room and in the comfort of his hammock, Peter made up his mind. He was running away. He didn’t know where exactly he would go since his parents most likely changed the locations, but he could go to some of their old hiding spots. Those places still had running water and provided safe cover from the weather. Food will be a trouble, but he could figure that part out once it came to that.

He glanced at the chocolate in his lap that Mr. Stark brought him earlier and then threw it into the hammock because he couldn’t reach that high up and Peter refused to come down. He set it aside and jumped down.

He’ll miss the taste.

He’ll miss the comfort of the hammock.

He’ll miss Mr. Sta-

Peter firmly cut himself off. No. He had to stop this before he got in far too deep. Because if he dared to hope that things could be better, it would simply get taken away from him anyway. Hope was fatal. Better to spare himself the pain.

Assuming that all doors were locked for the nigh, Peter found a stairwell and bean to climb up in a search for the roof. Then he could scale down the wall and leave all of this behind.

He found the door at last. With a sense of finality pooling in his stomach, he gripped the handle and pulled the door open.

Peter looked up and stopped.

It was a good thing that Tony wasn’t asleep when Friday alerted him that the kid was on the roof. He put on one of his old zip-up hoodies and headed to his destination, not knowing what to expect. Aside from the time in the gym, Peter never wandered the Compound at night.

He opened the door and whatever he was expecting, it definitely wasn’t a pair of feet hanging in front of his face. Ducking underneath them, it didn’t take long to find the rest of the teen. Peter was sprawled on his back above the door. “A bit late to be outside.”

“There are so many,” the kid whispered, pure awe in his voice.

Tony looked up at the inky sky littered with millions of tiny bright dots. “There sure are. Not a cloud in sight. Perfect time for stargazing,” he said as he leaned on the wall next to Peter’s legs. “You’ve… never seen the stars?”

“I never really left the city. You can’t see this there with all that light pollution. Plus, when we were doing night missions outside of the city, it was always on cloudy night for maximum cover.”

Yeah, that would make sense. Though Tony couldn’t help but feel queasy at the memories of being up there. It was enough to make his skin prickle.

“You’ve been to space, right? During the battle of New York.”

Dang, the kid had to bring it up. But he was talking with Tony willingly, so he wouldn’t let the chance go to waste. “Yeah. I was.”

“How was it?”

Terrifying. Traumatizing. Nightmare and panic attack inducing. “It was… big. Vast and dark.”

“I would like to see it one day.”

Tony huffed. “Let’s hope it will be under better circumstances.”

“Thank you for closing that portal. I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.”

“Wait, you were there?”

“Of course. Like every person in New York.” The kid paused, seemingly contemplating to elaborate. “I was outside when the invasion happened. I wasn’t fast enough to hide in the safehouse and those things cornered me. I fought but more and more kept coming… and then they all fell. The portal closed.”

Tony found himself sitting next to Peter. He pushed the memories away in order to focus on his young charge. “Wait, that was you?”

Peter glanced at him. “Huh?”

“There was a part of the city where we weren’t fighting, but we found a bunch of Chitauri that were incapacitated before the mothership was destroyed. That was you, wasn’t it?” But none of them were killed. That planted some serious doubt about Peter’s claims that he killed someone. Sure, he was way younger then, but child soldiers killed since very young age. Plus… “There were several civilians claiming that some enhanced human had saved them.”

The kid averted his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just protected myself.”

Lies. Tony never thought he would be grateful for those. “Well then,” he said with small smile, “whoever saved those people is a hero.”

“I didn’t save anyone.”

“I didn’t say that.”

More silence. About half a minute passed before Peter sat up, still looking up at the sky. “Do you really think that I can change? Despite everything I’ve done?”

The vulnerability in those words made Tony’s heart ache. “You just have to have a little bit of hope.”

“Hope is fatal.”

“Is it though?”

Peter shrugged, then shivered.

“Are you cold?” Tony asked.

Peter wrapped his hands around himself and shook his head in amusement. “The spider part of me doesn’t exactly like the cold.”

Oh. Right. Spiders can’t thermoregulate. Tony immediately shrugged off his hoodie. “Here,” he said as he wrapped it around Peter’s shoulders.

With wide eyes, Peter pulled the hoodie tighter around himself. “I- I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this… or understand.”

“But you’ll learn.”

A brief hesitation. “But I’ll learn,” Peter repeated. “Thank you.”

Tony’s heart leaped with joy. A grin threatened to betray how he truly felt, but thankfully, he got saved by the kid’s stomach rumbling loudly. He laughed. “Hungry?”

“A little bit,” Peter muttered, his cheeks dusting pink. Another loud rumble could be heard. “Traitor,” he muttered, looking down pointedly.

Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “Let’s get some food into you then. Nothing is better than the good old midnight raid of the fridge.”

They tinkered in comfortable silence in Mr. Stark’s workshop. If Peter counted correctly, tomorrow should be five-week anniversary of his capture. When he compared his current-self with his past-self, it was almost unbelievable how much has his attitude towards the heroes changed.

Where there used to be struggles and attacks and rude words, now there were group meals and playful banter. Peter still struggled with that one, but as Mr. Stark had said, he’ll learn.

And oh how Peter was willing to learn, especially in Mr. Stark’s workshop. So much technology in one place. It was a dream come true! Yes, he had restrictions because of his villain status, but he still made the most of what he was allowed.

Peter dared to say that he was… happy.

A sound of muffled explosion made his head snap up and not a second later an alarm started to blare. “What’s going on?”

Mr. Stark brought up a footage Peter couldn’t see. “We’re under attack. Don’t worry, just… stay here, okay?” he said, and with that, he was gone.

The tightness on Mr. Stark’s face, along with the churning of his stomach, gave Peter a pretty good tip on who was attacking. More explosions could be heard over the alarm. They were louder. Closer. Like they were on…

The roof.

Peter was torn. Why now? His own words echoed in his head.

“They’re just waiting for the right moment to strike.”

Dammit.

Mr. Stark told him to stay put. And he wanted to obey, he really did, but… the sound of the battle went on for too long.

Peter knew what he had to do.

With his features set with determination, he headed out of the lab, but not before slipping a metallic disc into his shoe. He willed his hand to stop shaking as he pushed the pulled the door to the roof open. Unsurprisingly, he was met with the sight of a battlefield. There were dents in the roof. Charred spots from where the explosion went off. Even some bloodstains.

“Peter?” he heard Mr. Stark say. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay put!”

Peter didn’t get the chance to reply. “Spider!” He knew that voice. That was his mother’s voice. “What are you waiting for? Come on!” Peter spotted her on something that resembled a helicopter. His father was piloting, but still shot small rockets at the heroes on the roof.

“Peter, don’t,” Mr. Stark pleaded, shooting from his wrist gauntlet.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and gulped. Then he began to sprint across the roof towards his parents. Someone tackled him.

“Pete, kid, listen,” Mr. Stark said, “you don’t have to go with them. Remember what we were talking about? You can be better! Don’t throw everything away. Please,” he choked the last word out.

But he knew what he had to do. So, flipping the man easily off of his body, he took off running once again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sure if it could be heard through the lump in his throat. Peter came to the edge of the roof and jumped. His hand clasped around his mother’s extended one.

“Now!” his mother yelled at the same time as their hands connected.

An electric blast went through the tower, rendering all electronic on the roof useless. Peter heard the clang of Rhodey’s metal suit as it hit the ground. Peter risked the glance over his shoulder at the people he left behind.

“Nice one, Richard!”

“You were great too, hun!”

As always, no praise for Peter. A sudden stabbing pain came from around his wrists. Peter set his lips into thin like. “I forgot about these,” he muttered.

Well, he guessed he deserved it.

Darkness swallowed him.

#marvel fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #villain peter parker #irondad #spiderson

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tonystarktogo · 4 years

Text

(this could’ve been) a villain’s origin story -- KHR remix

[this fic is my first attempt to write in the KHR fandom. i apologize in advance.]

II.

The first time it happens, Tsuna doesn’t see it coming at all. It’s not the kind of thing one sees coming.

He’s following up on one of the many, many anonymous tips they receive daily, about villain movements, suspicious sightings, potential collaborations, the works. Nowhere in the official Vongola Inc. recruitement speech do they tell you that working for the world’s largest superhero organization mostly means digging through trash and interviewing witnesses, rather than bashing a supervillain’s head in.

Granted, most teams go out and get at least some action and technically Tsuna’s team is no exception. Tsuna is, though.

“You’re more likely to get one of us killed than be of any help!” Mochida had snapped when he’d seen Tsuna trott after the others on their way to the briefing room. “Make yourself useful for once and stay out of the way.”

[continues under the cut]

[In all honesty, Tsuna can’t blame his squad leader. He never thought he, Dame-Tsuna, always too slow, too clumsy, too useless, would get recruited by Vongola Inc. The best, most powerful, most feared superhero organization the world has to offer and they wanted Tsuna.

Of course that turned out to be bullshit. Tsuna should’ve expected nothing less. Should’ve seen it coming. Why doesn’t he ever learn? But he’d been so shocked, so gratefulrelievedelated to know that someone saw something in him. That someone wanted him.

If he’d known all Vongola wanted was Sawada Iemitsu’s son -- his bloodline -- well. Tsuna knows himself well enough to realize that it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing.

But that doesn’t stop him from wishing it had.]

Mochida is cold and cutting and often cruel, but he’s not a terrible team leader. He takes his responsibilities seriously. And even though Tsuna knows the man doesn’t like him, sees being saddled with Tsuna as some kind of creative punishment by his superiors, Mochida doesn’t let Tsuna’s inability to walk a straight line without running into a a door and his utter lack of super abilities get in the way of their job. It usually ends with Tsuna being sidelined and manning the coffee maschine or the phonelines -- wherever he can cause the least damage -- but Tsuna doesn’t mind much.

Sure, it’s not glamourous, but it’s still little things that need to be done and Tsuna is glad he can be of help, even if his co-workers rarely appreciate it. Mochida doesn’t expect much of anything from him and sometimes that hurts, but he never sets Tsuna up for failure just to have something to laugh at either -- and that means more to Tsuna than it probably should.

Besides it’s not like spending yet another endless day at work, following up on various anonymous tips, 98 percent of which always turn out to be a useless waste of time, is a bad price to pay for a steady job in a respected profession.

It’s only in retrospect that it occurs to Tsuna that what happens next is not at all surprising. That it is almost inevitable. Because no matter how many crazy, paranoid or joking people call the Vongola Emergency line, sooner or later Tsuna was bound to stumble over a nugget of valuable information. That this was why they kept a tip line in the first place -- because it occasionally proves to be useful.

In Tsuna’s defense, he’s pretty sure none of the others expected today’s calls to be real either. They sure wouldn’t have sent him out otherwise.

But here he is. Searching -- read: stumbling through -- a long abandoned warehouse that Tsuna just knows would have Hana sniff in disgust at the utter cliché of it all. Without back-up or any particularly useful weapon.

[His team learned in their first month together not to arm Tsuna with anything he could use to hurt himself with. Or them.]

Staring in horror at the supervillain staring at Tsuna with equal surprise.

At least I’m not the only one caught off-guard, Tsuna thinks hysterically. And he’s allowed to be hysterical when he finds himself trapped alone and unarmed in an abandoned warehouse with Skull De Mort of all people.

[Tsuna doesn’t have many hero-like qualities, but he’s got a lot of free time on his hands when manning the phone lines and pulling graveyard shifts on days where even villains prefer to catch a break and sleep in. Tsuna also, by virtue of his heritage, has access to the kind of high-level intel most field agents can only dream of.

As such, Tsuna has a better understanding on the recently active and inactive supervillains than most.

Whereas the average newsreporter likes to scoff and sniff derisively when Skull De Mort pulls one of his outrageous attacks that always mean impressive amounts of property damage and no civilian deaths because Skull is just an ambitious, loud-mouthed thug with ideas above his station as far as the general public is concerned, Tsuna knows better.

Skull De Mort is an Arcobaleno. As in one of the seven most powerful villains in the entire world. He might not drown the city in blood, but it’s sure as hell not because he can’t do it.

Sure, Skull baffles Vongola Inc. regularly with his antics, but his name is spoken in the same breath as Reborn, Fon or Viper and the point is oh god, Tsuna is gonna die here.]

With perfectly reasonable, if unhealthy amounts of panic and horror fighting for dominance within him, it takes Tsuna several long seconds to realize that Skull isn’t launching into one of his infamous supervillain speeches. Isn’t even throwing glitter bombs at Tsuna -- and those glitter bombs might not kill anyone, but walking into Vongola HQ and leaving a trail of glitter everywhere just might.

Hibari-senpai -- who isn’t even Vongola, is the definition of unaffiliated asset everyone is too afraid to alienate -- hates glitter.

Tsuna is so dead.

Except he still isn’t. He’s been standing here, gaping and panicking for close to five minutes and Skull still hasn’t made his move. In fact, now that Tsuna pays attention, it’s not just his breathing that’s unnaturally loud and heavy in the empty hall. And-- Tsuna squints. Skull doesn’t seem to be leaning against the wall so much as clinging to it and he’s watching Tsuna with a look that no one has ever directed at Tsuna in his life, something that almost looks like, like wariness and--

“Are you okay?” Tsuna blurts out before he can think of all the reasons why starting a conversation with an Arcobaleno is a terrible idea.

It’s just— this is a supervillain and that’s terrifying and Tsuna should probably call someone more qualified to deal with this situation, but also this is an injured supervillain and somehow that makes all the difference.

Skull scoffs, ironically putting Tsuna a little more at ease. People always scoff or scowl when he reminds them of his existence, this is no different. Besides it’s hard to take the villain’s derision seriously when he promptly sways on his feet. He’s not wearing his helmet, either, and despite being dressed in the usual black motorcycle suit, Tsuna is pretty sure his violett hair is matted with blood.

“You’re hurt!” he exclaims, horrified. Promptly drops the taser he’s been trying to pull out of his overstuffed bag with shaking hands and rushes towards the villain’s side, who’s eyes widen in alarm as Tsuna approaches.

Somehow that makes it easier to breathe, but it’s not enough to distract Tsuna from the long cut along the man’s temple and the dark bruises on his jaw.

“The Great Skull-sama is fine!” Skull protests frantically.

He’s clearly not, considering he promptly loses his balance when he tries to take a step back. Instinctively, Tsuna reaches out to catch him, realizing a second too late that one, he doesn’t have the strenth to keep the taller man upright and two, Tusna is a walking, talking disaster who inevitably trips and brings Skull down with him. They hit the ground hard enough to knock all the air out of his lungs and land in a graceless heap on the floor.

“Sorry!” Tsuna squeaks, breathless from where his face is smushed against Skull’s padded shoulder. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me, Skull-sama!”

Kami-sama, he’s knocked the poor, already injured man over! Trying to untangle them immediately, Tsuna accidentally rams his elbow into Skull’s side, which earns him a pained groan and Skull another flustered apology.

This is why his team doesn’t take Tsuna on missions. He’s a hazard not just for himself but everyone around him.

Scrambling away from Skull before he manages to kill the guy through sheer clumsiness, Tsuna forces himself to take one deep, steady breath — only one, though, else he’ll have time to think about how stupid what he’s gonna do in a moment really is — and starts to unpack his bag. Tsuna might not carry as many weapons as a Vongola Superhero on duty technically should, but his emergency kit would make any aspiring doctor proud. And Nana too, but that’s because Tsuna’s mom thinks he’s healing the innocent bystanders — "My Tsu-kun has such a gentle heart!" — not himself.

"What are you doing?!" Skull asks while slowly pushing himself off the floor and into a sitting position.

"I’m just looking for the— there!" Tsuna knew he still has one of Irie’s newest ice packs. He kneads the white package for a few moments to activate it, then holds it out to Skull. "Here. Hold this to your jaw for at least ten minutes, but no longer than thirty. Ichi’s still working on some issues long-term use has on human skin."

Tsuna babbles like he always does when he’s scared. [It drives Mochida crazy sometimes because Tsuna is scared most of the time and Mochida hates babbling.] It doesn’t stop him from noticing the odd look Skull shoots him, a bit like he’s measuring Tsuna’s worth. Except that’s a look he’s intimately familiar with and would recognize anyone, so it’s something close, but not exactly that.

"Please take it, Skull-sama." Tsuna shakes the ice pack lightly, pretends like his hands aren’t trembling when those bright, violett eyes fixate on him. "That looks like it really hurts."

[He’s not sure if all Arcobaleno carry their superpowers on the outside. If it’s part of the costume, colored contacts and all, or if their bodies are brimming with power to the point where they’re overflowing, where it pours out of them in any shape it can.]

Slowly Skull takes the ice pack. Looks at it as though he doesn’t know what to do with it.

"H-Hold it against your chin, please, Skull-sama." Tsuna busies himself with sorting through his various bandages and tries very hard to pretend his voice isn’t shaking and squeaky like a frightened mouse. "It’ll help keep the swelling down."

"…The immortal Skull-sama heals fast." Skull says the words like a question. Tsuna doesn’t look up, but he can feel the weight of the man’s stare.

Hunching his shoulders, Tsuna pulls what little courage he has together, and stutters, "That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, Skull-sama. Please, can you just take it? I— I don’t like seeing people hurt."

Skull is still staring, Tsuna can tell, but it feels less like he wants to lean over and rip Tsuna open to figure out what’s inside, and more like he’s just watching Tsuna drop the disinfect spray for the third time. After a moment, he presses the ice pack to his face and even though Tsuna’s still trembling a bit, he smiles.

"Thank you."

Skull doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t protest when Tsuna tells him to disinfect the gash above his eyebrow — not deep enough to need stitches, thankfully. He draws the line at more bandages, though, which is worrisome. Tsuna is pretty sure the man has at the very least bruised his rips, but Skull is a supervillain, not runaway kitten, and maybe that means he knows what he’s doing.

That would at least make one of them.

Finally convinced that there’s no other injury Skull will let him help with, Tsuna carefully packs up his things again and bids the villain a hesitant goodbye. Which brings up a somewhat awkward point.

"I have to go back to work now and someone might ask where I’ve been." Eventually. Maybe. Tsuna rocks back on his heels, not sure how to put this. "If they ask, they might come here. And you— might not want to be there when they come," is what he settles on.

Skull’s watching him with another strange expression, both eyebrows raised as he watches Tsuna make a fool of himself. "Why?"

Tsuna eeps. [It’s not a full-on shriek, thankfully, but it’s far too close for his comfort.] There’s an intensity to Skull just now that has the hairs of the back of his neck stand up and reminds Tsuna rather violently that he’s talking to an Arcobaleno. That he’s been treating an Arcobaleno’s wounds. For a moment, Tsuna sways on his feet, as though his body wonders whether it should just give up on him completely.

"Ireallyneedtogonow!" Tsuna rushes the words out so fast, they trip over themselves, grabs his bag and high-tails it out of there. "Please take care of yourself, Skull-sama!" he adds over his shoulder, almost walking into the door as he does so.

It’s not until Tsuna is sitting in his comfortingly safe work chair that it occurs to him that not once during the entire, surreal encounter [he still can’t believe he was in the same room as an Arcobaleno and survived] did it occur to him to call Vongola. Even now Tsuna is hesitating to speak up, to tell one of his co-workers. Because while his gut feeling tells him that Skull got out of that warehouse as soon as Tsuna turned his back on him, he isn’t one hundred percent sure and what if they catch Skull because of him?

Tsuna resolves to spill the whole story as soon as someone asks — he’s a terrible liar and he never promised Skull he wouldn’t tell, not that the man asked himto — and tries not to think too much about the many crimes he committed by letting the chance of catching a supervillain of Skull’s calibre go to waste. Not that anyone would expect Tsuna to catch a supervillain, but still.

[His team returns two hours later, bright-eyed, bruised and breathless with the enthusiasm of a successful mission tangible in the air around them. Mochida even greets Tsuna with a smile and doesn’t scold him when Tsuna drops his tea cup in response and Haru tells him all about the exciting and ultimately successful arrest they’ve pulled off.

No one asks Tsuna where he’s been or if anything interesting happened while they were gone.

Tsuna tells himself he’s relieved, for Skull’s sake if nothing else, because the pang he feels at the thought that no one would miss me if I was gone has gone beyond pathetic a long time ago.]

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