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multi-lefaiye · 1 year

Text

MUTUALS POWERPOINT NIGHT: MULTI EDITION

HELLO gamers! it is i, tumblr user xavier multi-lefaiye, here to present my very good powerpoint to y'all. i am posting this early because i like being early <3

as some of you may know, i had a few other ideas for powerpoints, one of which i finished before going "hm i wanna do something else" and doing something else.

as i am sure you are all very well-aware by this point, my biggest fixation is tales from the gas station. so i decided to do my powerpoint about that instead of explaining in-depth how i'd rewrite every episode of notable bad horror tv series lost tapes. you're welcome <3

tagging the participants real quick (if i forgot you i prommy i am just forgetful and it was not intentional, ilsym): @wherearetheplants @nicola-writes @cnnamonrolls @abouttogetshellshocked @approximately20eggs @yourlocal-lichen @astralrunic

anyway! my slides will be under the cut, but if you'd rather see the actual presentation, here's the google slides link: [link]

comments are enabled but no one is obligated to leave any for any reason! i mainly enabled them because i may send this to some discord folks later who enjoy leaving silly comments.

anyway let's gooooo

[Transcript:

TALES FROM THE GAS STATION: A BRIEF SUMMARY

OR: an explanation of my blorbos

by tumblr user multi-lefaiye

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

what the fuck is this series?

Tales From the Gas Station started as a creepypasta series on the NoSleep subreddit

Then it kinda blew up and became popular enough that the creator reworked and rewrote the series to make them into books

There are four books total and also a seven-part comic series in the works!

Essentially, this is a horror-comedy series centering around a character named Jack Townsend, the minimum-wage employee of a shitty gas station at the edge of an even shittier small town, which also happens to be the epicenter of many supernatural happenings

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

DISCLAIMER

I haven’t finished reading the full series yet because [redacted] redacted] [redacted]

But regardless I’m MOSTLY basing this presentation on book one to avoid spoiling later events for people who wanna check this out themselves :)

This is not an exhaustive presentation unfortunately.

Look at this raccoon

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: An image of a raccoon behind the wheel of a car, positioned as though it's driving. End ID.]

[Transcript:

Content warnings!!

So I’m not gonna go into the triggering stuff in this presentation, but if you wanna check out TFTGS yourself I wanna give a heads up where I can.

I also will try to give context to things where I can if I feel that it’s needed, but yeah point is I want to make sure anyone who checks this out knows what they’re getting into.

Anyway full list of warnings on the next slide let’s go

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Okay here are the actual content warnings

There are a few side/minor characters who are really blatantly racist and xenophobic b/c TFTGS does not shy away from the fact that it takes place in a small, shitty southern US town--these characters are condemned by the narrative and clearly The Assholes but still, tread lightly.

Casual ableism, especially towards Jack, including the use of the r-slur (once again also condemned by the narrative but still)

Lots and lots of violence and murder

Suicide

Lots of talk of terminal illness

Drug use

Cults

Psychiatric abuse

SOME graphic depictions of blood n’ gore n’ corpses, but the gore is never the focus thankfully

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

CHARACTERS!!!

FULL DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ALL PRETTY MUCH MY INTERPRETATIONS OF THE CHARACTERS. Many of them don't have much in the way of physical descriptions and these are all just my personal designs for the characters :) Yay

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

JACK TOWNSEND

The universe’s favorite punching bag

He’s got that autistic tboy swag and I love him so so much

Chronically ill since he was in high school

Just fucking vibing

Frequently gets insulted and beaten down and it stresses me out but he gets less and less chill about it as the series goes on. I think he deserves to throw rocks at people

I relate to him a lot and idk what that says about me <3

Blorbo <3333

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Jack Townsend from Tales From the Gas Station, a tired young white man with dark bags under his eyes, a small beard, and shaggy black hair. He looks worried and is wearing a blue shirt under a black hoodie. End ID.]

[Transcript:

ANTONIO / TONY

So I’m not quite sure how to talk about him without spoiling a bunch of shit

Ah well

One of Jack’s coworkers and his best friend in volume 1!

Kind of a sweet, anxious guy who’s just trying his best

What’s a little accidental murder between besties??? It was an accident, it’s fine.

King of being a really good and trustworthy guy with nothing else going on

I love him genuinely

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Antonio from Tales From the Gas Station, a young Latino man with tan skin, curly brown hair, multiple piercings in his ears, and a beard. He has his mouth open as though he's speaking, and he wears a blue collared shirt under a denim jacket. End ID.]

[Transcript:

JERRY PASCAL

Jack’s emotional support human and bestie

Kind of like a puppy, except that puppy does a lot of illegal shit and kills people

Former member of a murderous cult called Mathmetism

Referred to as Marlboro for most of the first book b/c Jack doesn’t know his name

Big stupid energy but also the smartest bitch in the room. Depends on what would be funnier

Would fight god in the parking lot

If he’s being serious, something is wrong

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Jerry Pascal from Tales From the Gas Station, a white man with shaggy blond hair, a small beard, and multiple piercings in his ears. He has a wide smirk on his face and wears a yellow t-shirt with a graphic of the sun across the front under a red hoodie jacket, and one hand is visibly holding a cigarette. End ID.]

[Transcript:

SPENCER MIDDLETON

MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW

Too sexy and evil for gender

My design for him is very far from canon and I am aware of that. However I think everyone should draw him as a long-haired prettyboy <3

He’s just so babygirl <3

I hate him and love him in equal measure

God let him live another day and that’s everyone else’s problem

Anyway I just think he’s neat and should do more crimes

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Spencer Middleton from Tales From the Gas Station, a white man with long ginger hair, a light beard, and pierced ears. He has a sharp grin on his face, showing his sharp teeth, and is wearing all black. End ID.]

[Transcript:

AMELIA O'BRIEN

Cop (unfortunate)

I have very mixed feelings about her as a character ngl and most of them tie back to her being a cop

I do think she’s interesting though

Wish she’d cool it with the casual ableism though <3 Like I know it’s not just her but goddamn

Anyway I guess she counts as a #girlboss

One time one of my friends compared her to the gay cop in Onward and I can’t stop thinking about it because God So True

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Amelia O'Brien, a Black woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun and pierced ears. She has a stern expression on her face and wears a light shirt under a dark vest and brown jacket, with one hand holding a cigarette. End ID.]

[Transcript:

ROSA VASQUEZ

Sweetest girl in the world

Technically doesn’t show up until volume 2 but I love her so much so I’m talking about her here

Newest hire at the gas station and completely unprepared for The Horrors

She adapts pretty quickly though

Has a really huge really obvious crush on Jack and tbh I think it’s cute

Unfortunately he is oblivious

Besides that though she’s a very fun character and makes me very happy :)

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Rosa Vasquez from Tales From the Gas Station, a young Latina woman with brown skin, dark brown hair that hangs loosely around her shoulders, and pink earrings. She has a wide smile on her face and is wearing a pink shirt under a dark denim jacket, with one hand held up in a peace sign. End ID.]

[Transcript:

SABINE

We don’t need to talk about her

So we’re not going to talk about her

You have to read volume 2 to get this backstory

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Sabine from Tales From the Gas Station, a young woman with lightly tanned skin, pierced ears, curly brown hair, and freckles. Her mouth is open slightly and she wears a black choker, a black t-shirt with a skull on it, and a red jacket. Two of her hands are held up and her pointer fingers are pressed together. End ID.]

[Transcript:

MISC. CHARACTERS I'M NOT MAKING PICREWS OF

Kieffer - the world’s most killable man! A local politician and, arguably, part of the reason everything goes to shit.

Benjamin - a monster hunter who’s convinced that there’s something evil in the gas station. And he’s gonna kill it.

Vanessa Riggin - another employee at the gas station who unfortunately disappears during volume 1.

Brother Riley - local bookstore owner and ray of sunshine! Got basically excommunicated for teaching kids to read

Dr. V - psychiatric abuse: the character! (Jack’s psychiatrist who doesn’t seem particularly interested in actually helping him)

Deputy Tom - cop (unfortunate), but also Jack’s kinda father figure.

Agents Brick Roscoe - idk how to even get into this so I simply will not.

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

PLOT!!!

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: Two edited memes featuring raccoons. One shows a raccoon facing the camera, with a photoshopped human hand holding a gun pointing at the viewer. The other shows a raccoon in front of a sunset and looking to the left, with a faded image of a screaming raccoon behind it. The second meme reads: "Physically pained, Mentally drained" / End ID.]

[Transcript:

Volume 1 Premise

The premise of volume 1 centers quite a bit around Kieffer, a local politician.

Picture this: your best friend pulls you aside at work and asks you about the guy who just came into the store. After you explain who the guy is, your friend says, “No, that can’t be him. I killed him last night. His body is in my trunk.”

That’s the day Jack is having.

A wild series of events follows, made worse when Jack starts documenting his experiences in a blog to keep himself sane

People start going missing! Other people start dying! Kieffer especially starts dying!

Jack is not being paid enough to deal with any of this!

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Other things about volume 1 I wanna say, minus context

I think Spencer Middleton is babygirl material and I will not be silenced b/c I am so right

There is a genuinely really clever bit of writing in volume 1 centering around Jack’s leg injury but I don’t know how to explain it without spoilers so just know I think it’s really cool

The Bathroom Cowboy is a cool dude and I think I would like to be his best friend

I think Jack should be allowed to have a nice day for once in his fucking life

Rita the raccoon is a girlboss

The Man in the Raincoat is so gender

Agents Brick Roscoe confuse and frighten me. They’re also really funny

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Here's a quote from volume 1 that I think captures the style of comedy well

She walked up to the counter and smiled and asked, "What do you think?"

What a great question. I think a lot of things, actually. I ran through a shortlist of answers. I think people spend too much time mowing their lawns. I think Marlboro's probably dead, and I may be somewhat responsible. I think no man ever steps in the same river twice. I think that, in terms of reality, perception outweighs actuality in every case, but if I were to say something like that in this town I'd get my ass kicked for being a pretentious dick. I think Tony was too hard on 'Temple of Doom.' I think every magazine is a scam. (Why should I pay for a magazine when it's already full of advertisements?) I think forcing children to recite the pledge of allegiance is creepy, and hot dogs are not sandwiches (they are, in fact, American tacos). I think things at the gas station are getting worse and I can't explain why.

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

by viewing this presentation you promise that if you ever read tftgs you have to tell me (tumblr user multi-lefaiye) all of your thoughts about it

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

i’m kidding, you don’t have to, i just wanna talk about this series with people

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Thanks

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picture of a raccoon sitting up and with its forepaws together, its teeth bared in a way that makes it looks like it's grinning evilly. End ID.]

#multi makes text posts #mutuals powerpoint night #god i love this fucking series #mutuals tag #typing up the transcripts took a while but it was worth it #tales from the gas station #anyway if you want to understand me. read tftgs.

18 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 2 years

Text

Perennial Pt.08

03/16/2022

Heat of the Moment

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2,614

Warnings: sexual harassment trauma, angst, pining, fluff

Featured Flower: Cornflower

A/N: This chapter was actually never supposed to exist. While Bucky was always meant to sleep over, I hadn’t planned to write out what happened between them this night, HOWEVER...because so many of you wrote me such sweet comments expressing your excitement for their little sleepover, I was moved to write it out for y’all. So legit, as amazing as I find this chapter now, those of you who sent me little exclamations of excitement for Bucky coming to sleep over are the true heroes. lol I hope you enjoy! xoxo

Don’t steal, rewrite, translate, or repost my fics on any other platforms.

Don’t be an asshole.

The knock on your door makes you jump.

Slightly panicked, you scurry over to it and look down at your pajamas and wonder if maybe you should have changed. Again.

You’d finally settled on a simple pair of striped red shorts and a slightly oversized gray t-shirt. While you were picking you seriously regretted not having purchased some nicer sleepwear. Something matching and cute with lace or bows or maybe in pink?

Bucky feels like he’s more a blue guy though…

What the hell are you thinking? He has a girlfriend.

You'd put these thoughts behind you! Why are you regressing?!

There’s a second set of knocks and you jump again but peek through the peephole to make sure before opening the door.

“Sorry, I was in the bathroom.” You shove your thoughts about your pajamas as deep down into yourself as you can and keep Kali's name at the forefront of your mind. It helps.

Bucky waits a moment, frowning before moving past you with a simple duffel bag in his metal hand. He drops it by your tiny kitchen island and heads to the window in your living room.

“Was this the window?” He checks it, making sure that it’s locked before drawing the curtain shut.

“No. It was the one in my bedroom,” you tell him softly, staring intently at him because you’ve never seen him look so upset. Not even when you were giving him attitude when you'd reconnected.

He huffs through his nose, moving into your bedroom and making a beeline for that window.

He checks the lock on that one then draws the curtains shut.

“Why was your bedroom window open?” he asks, moving back around your bed and following you into the living room.

You sit down on the sofa but he doesn’t join you.

“I had just taken a shower and the bathroom was really steamy so I just wanted to air out the room. I wasn’t expecting a drunk man to show up out of nowhere.”

Is he trying to say it’s your fault?

“It would be weird if you had been expecting it. I’m not saying this was your fault. I just wasn’t sure how much balls the guy has. He could have just broken in even if the window was shut. I just wanted the facts.” He puts his hands on his hips, softening the frown on his face as he looks you over.

“It wasn’t your fault. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No. And yeah,” you agree, feeling a little silly for thinking he was trying to blame you. "I'm fine."

Shoving your hands between your knees, you look at the TV still playing some random movie you’re not paying attention to, then turn back to your unexpected guest.

“I made up the sofa for you,” you tell him, patting the seat beside you to indicate the sheets and blankets you piled on to make it more comfy.

Bucky sits beside you, startling you as you turn your eyes back on him instead of the made up sofa.

Did he think you were calling him to sit?

“Thanks,” he smiles.

"Yeah," you laugh nervously. "I hope it's not too uncomfortable."

"Honesty, I might end up on the floor anyway."

"Oh? Do you not like the sofa?" You look at it beneath you, turning this way and that to see what he might be seeing that he dislikes.

"No," he rushes to assure you, waving his metal hand gently. "No. The sofa'a great, I just…it's too soft sometimes. Everything’s a little too soft. I don't know, maybe after spending so much time frozen, modern luxuries just don't feel quite as normal as they used to."

His confession makes the ache in your chest dip. It's a different type of ache. A lamentation for the struggles of his past as opposed to jealousy or yearning.

"Oh." You reply lamely. "I uh…I can move the coffee table for you if you need more room?"

You get up and put both hands on the edge of the tabletop but before you can push it towards the TV on the opposite wall a cool metal hand closes around your wrist.

He says your name, softly.

"It's alright. If I need more space, I'll move it later. I'll try the sofa first."

Something about the way he says it eases your worries and you slowly sit back down.

"Shit," he suddenly says. "Hey, can I call Kali? I usually call her before bed."

Swallowing hard, you nod and extend a hand towards him, urging him on.

"Of course! Take all the time you need. I'll get us some drinks and snacks." With a smile you rise and move towards the kitchen.

"Thanks," he smiles.

You try not to eavesdrop as you grab two sodas and plate up some croissant sandwiches. However, your apartment is very small and it can't exactly be helped.

He doesn't move from his spot on the sofa and runs his hand along his thighs, the dark jean material hissing softly through the murmur of the TV.

"Hey, babe."

Ouch. Stupid. Let it go.

"No. Actually, I'm not at the compound."

A beat of silence.

"No. No mission." He assures her then tells her he's at your place. "Some guy tried to come in through her window earlier and he was pretty drunk. Said some pretty nasty stuff."

You wonder what she must be saying as Bucky plucks at some loose fibers on his knee. He clenches his metal fist and you assume she must be complaining or giving him a hard time--what girlfriend WOULDN'T be a little miffed about her boyfriend spending the night at some other girl's place?--but then he chuckles and rubs his knee.

"No. I won't eat all her food." He replies, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

You look away, turning your back on him in a pretense of cutting up some pickle slices but really you just can't watch him be sweet with her.

She clearly doesn't mind that he’s here which also means that she has no reason to worry.

Which means you're not a threat. Not that you want to be…but…

"Of course. I'll tell her." He says, then when he next speaks, his voice floats towards you. "Kali says hi."

You turn and give him a tight smile.

"Hi," you give him a wave to pass on then pick up the large plate with one hand and the two sodas in the other.

You stop by the coffee table and elbow the small stack of books to make room before placing the food before him.

"Yeah, of course. She’s safe with me here." He tells Kali, who must be expressing concern for you.

This fills you with guilt. You throw a thumb over your shoulder when Bucky looks at you and mouth the word bathroom.

He gives a quick nod, eyebrows shooting up, but he goes back to his conversation while you make your escape.

She's so nice! So sweet. You'd gotten the impression she was a little aloof at the park but clearly your first impression had been tainted by your own prejudice.

Gripping your bathroom sink, you shut your eyes and picture the pretty woman as you'd seen her in the park.

Again, it helps to chase away your thoughts of Bucky.

You're not sure how long you stay in the bathroom but you finally emerge and join Bucky in the living room again.

And just like that, all attempts to clear your mind of him are dashed as you blink in surprise and try not to turn away and make things awkward.

Bucky’s no longer in his jeans but rather a plain charcoal colored t-shirt and a pair of navy boxer-briefs that leave very little to the imagination.

You avoid looking at the one spot your eyes are desperate to ogle and instead see the tight and thick stretch of his thighs against the soft elastic of his underwear.

His arms strain against his t-shirt slightly and as he reaches for another sandwich, his phone left beside the spread, your eyes are assaulted by the tautness of his exposed forearms, veins bulging as he opens his soda can.

It hisses and sputters and he quickly presses it to his lips to stave the flow of sugary drink.

He's so busy watching the food and stealing glances at the TV that he thankfully doesn't notice you staring.

It takes every ounce of self control and sanity left within you to move around the coffee table, drawing his gaze as you move in front of the TV.

"You okay?" He checks. "You were in there a while."

"Uh…yeah. I had to…poop."

"You constipated?" He wonders, a wrinkle of worry between his eyes.

"No!" You insist, frowning at him but he just smiles and then chuckles once before going back to his sandwich.

Unable to stand sitting next to him on the sofa, you lower yourself onto the floor between the coffee table and the couch.

"You okay?" He checks again, sounding like a parrot who only knows one phrase.

"Yea, already! Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?" You reach out, taking the other soda and popping the can open.

Maybe you're sitting too stiffly or maybe you're a little too obvious in the guilt that you feel about crushing so hard on him while Kali is so considerate?

Whatever it is, you aren't fooling Bucky.

After what feels like ages but also seconds, warmth nudges your shoulder and you turn to look at first his thigh, which he used to push you gently, then up at his face.

He's resting his elbows on his knees, hands hanging limply at the wrist, and his face full of genuine concern.

"You really okay?"

You force a laugh, too light and airy to be real.

"Yeah!" You chuckle, putting your soda down and reaching up to scratch at your neck. "I already said I am. I'm great. You're here so, I feel safe and I'll actually be able to sleep."

As you say the words, you realize that maybe…maybe you aren't as okay as you thought and you also begin to understand that it actually has nothing to do with Bucky or Kali.

Your mind is flooded with the stench of cheap liquor and the rancid mix of men's cologne and aftershave.

Your skin tingles at the elbow remembering sandpaper skin and a clammy grip pulling you closer.

The wafting of hot, smelly breath against your face as invasive words sting your ears.

Your heart hurts, your stomach rolls, and your legs grow numb.

"Wanna cuddle?" Bucky asks, shocking you from your flashback of Paul invading the sanctity of your space.

"What?!" You gasp.

Bucky doesn't wait for you to answer but instead drops down onto the floor to sit beside you, scooching as close as he can get until his thigh is touching yours. Without hesitation he lifts his metal arm and wraps it around your shoulders.

He pulls you in a little so that you're leaning against him.

You try and pull away but his arm doesn't let you budge an inch.

"It's okay," he whispers, so quiet that his voice is even lower than the TV. "I won't let him come back in here."

Bucky’s promise falls on you heavily, weighing down your shoulders not with his arm but relief.

"Hey," he gives you a squeeze, pulling you closer as he reaches around with his other hand to wipe at your cheek.

This gesture confuses you until you realize you're crying.

He whispers your name. "I've got you."

The fear you'd suppressed grips you tight and you let yourself fall into his protective embrace.

You can feel him guide your legs over his lap as you bury your face against his neck and the tears fall freely from your eyes.

You're shaking with sobs and Bucky’s soft shushing eases the strong painful heartbreak of Paul's assault.

You know it could have been worse but it was bad enough.

Bucky holds you close, his arms wrapped around you, smothering you with his full hard body. This steel like build with his vibranium arm is the best cocoon of safety you could have ever asked for.

As he holds you, you open your eyes a few times between streams of tears and with the angle he has you, you spot a small bundle of cornflowers that you’d brought home after your day at the park.

Kali’s little arrangement had endeared them to you but now they’re withered. They’re crumbling in on themselves and now that you look at them you only see yourself here, curled against your best friend feeling, just as weathered as those delicate petals.

At one point you stop crying though your sniffling continues.

Time floats away from you and you feel weightless for a bit. You're engulfed in warmth. The familiar scent of your bed lulling you into deeper sleep.

Time passes and you wake up only enough to make vague sense of your surroundings and you notice the large width of Bucky’s shoulders and back to you. He's sitting at the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees but he's got his hands clasped together, covering his mouth as he stares at your window.

Sleepily, groggy and only seventy-two percent sure this isn't a dream, you reach out for him and your fingers graze his back.

Your touch brings him to life and he turns to his right, lifting his leg to rest it on your bed, bent so that he can face you a bit better.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers, reaching to take your still extended hand.

Instead of putting it back down he holds it, pulling it underneath his own arm so that he can intertwine his fingers with yours. He edges closer and you curl around his heat, clinging to the safety his hand holding gives you.

Somewhere in your mind you want to urge him to sleep. To rest. But you're still more asleep than awake and his soothing lulls you faster into unconsciousness.

Bucky’s scent invades every facet of your mind and you dream of only Bucky. Even as you sleep, he saves you from the nightmares that you would have had, had he not been there to chase them away.

Later, again you wake. Soft slow breathing warms your cheek. You turn and the heat of an arm slides along your hip.

For a moment, your heart stutters and you think you might still be dreaming.

You shift onto your side, turning to face him and stare for barely half a minute before you push yourself forward to nudge your head into the space beneath his chin.

He sighs heavily, arm constricting around you more securely.

He wakes.

"You okay?" He checks. You don't answer, still too far in sleep to speak. "You were crying and whining in your sleep."

His voice is deep with his own slumber and despite now being awake, he holds you tighter, pulling your bodies closer until there's no room between you.

"I'm here," he whispers again, feeling your hands shaking as you grip the back of his t-shirt.

Is this a normal reaction to what Paul did? Is this fear rational?

Your mind races with thoughts, doubting every instinct your body has put you through tonight. It lasts seconds before your mind grows cloudy again and for the last time tonight, you fall asleep.

Bucky sighs, his lips pressed gently to your crown as his own breathing slows with the knowledge that he lays between you and that stupid window.

#bucky x florist!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #flowershop au #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x florist!reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #perennial pt08 #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #bucky fluff #bucky angst

195 notes · View notes

ezzydean · 3 years

Note

“ you were always my maybe, ya know? ‘maybe they’d finally ask me out.’ ‘maybe when i wasn’t the one looking, they were noticing me too.’ i know it’s silly, but. you were always in the back of my mind. ” - Stiles & Jackson

“Okay,” Jackson says as he strolls into Peter’s apartment. “This has gone on long enough.” Stiles freezes with a peanut butter cookie halfway into his mouth and then hastily shoves it, and two more, into his mouth. “What the hell, Stilinski?”

He has to wait for Stiles to finish chewing the wad of cookies in his mouth so he can respond without spraying the crumbs across Peter’s kitchen island and he takes the time to assess the conflicting mass of scents he’s getting from Stiles. There’s a smidge of guilt, one that’s kind of always there ever since the Nogitsune happened so the wolves all just tend to let that one go. It’s almost a baseline anymore, along with being tired and trying to get his ADHD under control with medication, and as strange as it sounds there’s a comfort in knowing it’s there. Over the base guilt is the sharp spike of guilt that came along with the surprise in his scent when Jackson opened the door, most likely the same guilt that for whatever reason made Stiles jam three cookies into his mouth at once. There’s the general scent of male and teenager and pack that soothes Jackson’s nerves even as the scent of teenager and hormones and arousal makes his skin itch.

Overall he just smells like Stiles. Like he’s always smelled ever since Jackson managed to tame the lizard part of his shifting enough to realize that not everyone was an enemy.

“What’s up, Jackson?” Stiles wipes his mouth on his sleeve and Jackson doesn’t even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Classy.”

“Shut up.” Stiles shifts back and forth a few times and Jackson’s nose twitches as Stiles’ scent turns nervous. A sour kind of nervous. Like waiting for test results or hearing that an officer got hurt on duty and he hasn’t heard from his dad that day. “What did you want? Or need? Or whatever?”

Before Stiles can start rambling about whatever comes to mind — most likely the history of cookies or a specific recipe that Stiles found for the cookies he’s eating after he had originally been looking for information on rugarus or something — Jackson leans against the island opposite from Stiles and lets out a breath.

“This has gone on long enough.”

Stiles laughs nervously. “What has? Me eating cookies alone in Peter’s apartment?”

“You avoiding me. You hiding away in Peter’s apartment. You pretending that we haven’t spent literal hours talking to each other on the phone when we can’t sleep. You sending me to voicemail instead of answering.” Stiles’ eyes are growing wider with each sentence out of his mouth and this wasn’t quite the way he had planned on this going but now that he’s started talking Jackson can’t seem to make himself stop. “You suddenly acting like you’re not the closest thing to a best friend I have anymore.” He takes a deep breath. “And me acting like it’s not killing me to lose you.”

Stiles just stares at him, so still that if it wasn’t for the fact Jackson can hear his heart beating wildly in his chest he would think Stiles had been turned to stone or something. He has no idea what to do now. Whatever he had planned on saying, whatever he had planned on doing once he opened the door, it’s all lost now. Buried under the pile of words he’d just dropped to the ground at Stiles’ feet.

“I don’t know when it happened for sure. I never imagined the day that you lured me into the back of your jeep under the pretense we were all going out for Thai food so you could actually break in here that I would be here some day. That I would feel better when I could see you. That your scent would bring me more comfort than my favorite food. That knowing you — and Boyd and Erica and Peter but you especially — were okay would be the most important thing on my mind in a fight. But it happened. It happened and you’re the cause of it and the fact you’re also the one pulling all of that out of my hands is… I can’t even describe it. But it sucks so much.”

Stiles licks his lips and takes a few breaths, eyes darting around like there might be something in the apartment to use as a distraction. But then his shoulders drop and he leans heavily against the island and meets Jackson’s gaze.

“I was in love with Lydia forever. Everyone knows that.” He has no idea where this is going but he nods because everyone did know that. Stiles did not make it a secret at all. “I teased and poked and flirted with Danny. Even though I knew it would never go anywhere. Even if I was attractive to gay men he made it clear I wasn’t attractive to him. Which is fine. I dated Malia for a bit. Even managed to go out a couple times with Lydia. You know all of this.” He nods again. “But through all of that you were there. You’ve been an asshole. A jerk. A typical high school bully. But you’ve also saved my ass more times than I can count. You’ve talked me down from panic attacks and helped me rewrite my college essays when my computer crashed and I lost them all the day before they were due. So no matter who else I might have looked at you were there. And, well.” Stiles takes a deep, deep breath and lets it out so slowly it feels like time stops. “You were always my maybe, you know? Like. Maybe he’ll finally ask me out. Maybe when I wasn’t busy looking at him, he was finally noticing me. Just. Yeah. I know it’s silly but it was you. You were always in the back of my mind.”

“So what’s with all of this?” he asks when he finally processes all of Stiles’ words. “What’s with the wallowing and pouting and acting like talking to me physically pains you?”

“Because it does! Knowing that I’m talking to my best friend and he’s never going to be anything but my best friend sucks so much because I love you!”

“Yeah, so? I love you too, idiot! Why do you think it’s pissing me off so much that you’ve stopped talking to me?”

Stiles stares at him, eyes wide, and Jackson takes a deep breath and can’t help but notice the sharp scent of nervousness. Not the sickly sour smell that makes his wolf want to curl around Stiles and protect him but the sharp sweet one that makes him think of things like Stiles managing to sneak off with Peter’s keys and copy them in secret and Erica showing up with Stiles’ favorite brownies and the smile on his face when Sheriff Stilinski claps any of them on the shoulder and tells them he’s proud of them for something.

“You love me?”

Jackson shakes his head. “Of course I love you,” he sighs. “I wouldn’t put up with so much of your shit if I didn’t, Stilinski.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly the poster child of normal, healthy emotions, Whittemore, so shut up and come over here and kiss me or something.”

“Sorry, man. I don’t kiss my friends.” Stiles narrows his eyes at Jackson. “I’ll only kiss my girlfriend. Or boyfriend.”

“Then get your ass over here, boyfriend, and kiss me.”

“You asking me on a date, Stilinski?”

“I’m asking you on all the dates, Whittemore. From now ‘til forever and all that shit.”

Jackson slides around the island and pulls Stiles into his arms. “I think I can handle that,” he whispers as Stiles’ eyes flutter shut.

“Good,” Stiles whispers back.

The Invaders (6 new messages)

Peter: [IMG] Peter: Can someone tell me why Stiles and Jackson are in my kitchen making out? Peter: Why does my apartment have to smell like teenage hormones all the time? Erica: !!!!!! GO STILES!!!! Erica: hey at least if it smells like teenage hormones it doesn’t smell like teenage angst Vernon: For Now.

#teen wolf #stackson #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #the invaders #prompt #cattatonically #wolfy writing

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 3 years

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Oh, boys...(the buddie or even the Buck-and-Eddie-are-queer of it all)! As a grown up queer who has been around this particular block with these showrunners too many times...We don't get to have this, right? Our stories told in such a nuanced, layered and organic way? The way homophobia is just so fucking pernicious. But my GOD the sheer volume and variety of hints! (Buck=queer! Eddie=smitten! Buckley-Diaz=family!) My queer heart can't take it. (1 of 2)

(2 of 2) Does the Ryan Murphy of it all make the difference? What do you think about Buddie in the context of the (rapidly) evolving relationship between fandom and creators and the changing landscape of queer storytelling? (With the Ryan Murphy of it all, because I keep forgetting an extremely powerful homosexual made this show...)

I now owe myself ten bucks because I bet myself that it would take two weeks at least for people to realize my askbox was open again and it only took about three days.

I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask, honestly. I’m just one silly little person with her silly little opinion. And I’m really trying to not be active in the fandom, so to speak.

But for what it’s worth here are my answers to the various parts of your question.

Edit: The first part of my answer got fucking deleted by tumblr and I had to rewrite it. My apologies.

1. I think it’s too early for euphoria (do we really get to have this???) or despair (they were queerbaiting us and laughing at our audacity to hope). If you pointed a gun at a kitten and made me take a bet, I’d say that we are indeed getting hints towards Buddie. But that’s if you put a gun to the head of a kitten. As it is, I feel it’s too early for us to really say either way and we have to keep watching and see how it goes. For all of my clown jokes, I’m not willing to make a firm statement one way or another.

2. The Ryan Murphy of it all? To be frank, I don’t trust Murphy any farther than I can throw him. Have we learned nothing from the steaming pile of hot mess that was Glee or the batshit insanity of American Horror Story? Especially with Murphy’s history of biphobia (we love you Brittany Pierce and you deserved better). I will also note that Murphy is not the showrunner of 9-1-1. Tim Minear is. It’s Minear’s decisions that will influence the show, not Murphy’s. Frankly I think that Murphy’s storytelling is trite, shallow, and thin. So if you’re looking for someone who thinks Ryan Murphy is going to be our guardian angel with this, you’re looking in the wrong place.

3. “What do you think about Buddie in the context of the (rapidly) evolving relationship between fandom and creators and the changing landscape of queer storytelling?” You really never do stop being an English major, huh.

Look I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: if Buddie becomes canon it will be in spite of the fan behavior. While I do love that being in fandom and openly shipping characters (especially queer ships) is no longer taboo and we can be open about it, I’m appalled at how in the process we have lost all respect for the divide between creator and consumer. Actors, showrunners, writers, etc are not your friends and they certainly don’t owe you shit. It makes it especially hard for us as queer people, neurodivergent people, etc to make our voices heard when we ask for better representation, because we get drowned out by the obnoxious voices.

If you waved the gun at the kitten again, I would say that Minear and the other writers noticed the fan response to Buddie and decided to explore that possibility. Minear even expressed that he was going off social media so that annoying fans wouldn’t influence his decision one way or another about Buddie. So I think it’s something that, thanks to strong fan response, the writers are considering - but there’s a difference between ‘fan response’ and ‘fans being little pieces of shit’ and the fandom seriously crossed that line last season.

Whether the writers have decided to go with it or not (and I’ve said this before as well: season four will be make or break it on if Buddie becomes canon or not) is not because of fans. Fan response told them “hey this is a possibility.” The writers then looked at what they had created with Buck and Eddie, consulted and debated amongst themselves on what to do based on the character arcs, and made a choice accordingly.

If we get Buddie it’s because of the integrity of the writers and their commitment to doing what was best for their characters, ignoring an understandable desire to spite all the assholes harassing them and not make it canon.

The moment creators start trying to cater to fans and perform fanservice rather than telling a story, your show goes to shit. Siren and Timeless are two examples off the top of my head. Hell I would even dare to say that the last three episodes of Supernatural with the Castiel confession and death and then the whole rest of it was an attempt by the writers to have their cake and eat it too by pleasing all the different fan factions. Which, as we all know, never works because in trying to please everyone you please no one.

A good storyteller listens to fans, genuinely weighs their opinions and needs, then sits down and does what serves the story, not what serves the fans. Good fans show their love and enthusiasm, but don’t harass creators (including actors, who have very little say in the direction the show goes). That is the true symbiotic relationship.

4. I think that we’ve come a long way in queer storytelling. For every Supernatural, we have a dozen other shows that have queer rep. Is it as good as it could be? No. But just looking at the strides we’ve made over the last decade... it’s huge. It’s really great. And I think... while I hope that Buddie is made canon - a good slow burn between two best friends who became more - the fact that the writers even took the time to consider that possibility with respect is a huge thing.

Of course, my opinion might change based on how S4 goes. We haven’t finished the trial yet.

I hope that we continue to see a trend of showrunners and writers listening to fans and considering the idea that maybe a character could be queer. I hope that we see a trend of more slow burns instead of a loud neon THEY’RE GAY sign followed by instalove and immediate dating. But I’m not yet willing to either condemn the 9-1-1 writers or lift them up onto pedestals.

The jury, my dear, is still out.

#mads answers things

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biconicfinn · 4 years

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id like to know, what are your takes on politician!Alec? if you want to talk about that

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!!!! POLITICIAN ALEC IS MY FUCKING JAM DJKABVHJKDBVKADVBFAV okay anon strap in because this will get crazy

holy shit this is long so i’m putting it under a read more!!

okay so first of all: alec is someone who has been trained from a young age to be a politician, he would have been educated in diplomacy and politics, his parents were expecting him to become head of the new york institute and they have no qualms about living vicariously through their children and forcing their burdens on them as we have seen in the show.

he was probably taught clave law and the accords, a whole bunch of languages (polyglot power couple malec ftw) because i assume the NYI uses english as their lingua franca because of their location but since institutes also have to deal with local downworld and mundane populations it’s safe to assume that in other countries where english isn’t the main language, they go with the local languages and alec would need to communicate with these other institute heads, etiquette, some formal ballroom dances like the waltz, the art of negotiation, administrative stuff like resource allocation, budgeting, public speaking, the nitty gritty details of the clave workings, in addition to the knowledge of the different races of the shadow world, hand to hand combat, combat with a variety of weapons (he masters archery to utter perfection but he definitely is also incredibly proficient in close range combat as well).

sorry i just love alec and he is definitely more competent than most of the Alec StansTM (yall know what im saying) make him out to be

okay so!!!!! it’s pretty much canon that alec has spent a considerable amount of time as acting head of the NYI; what with maryse and robert always fucking off to idris to lick the boots of the clave and so he probably has a good relationship with the people under his command. he’s probably put protocols in place to reduce casualties and injuries, form patrol teams that are well-balanced so that they are versatile enough to take just about any threat that comes their way, etc.

of course, thanks to a little thing called the nephilim’s deep-rooted homophobia, a lot of the work alec put in probably got negated when he came out. it took a lot of courage for him to come out and to be openly gay. raj was an absolute asshole to alec for no reason and often questioned his leadership decisions post coming out, and even if not all the shadowhunters reacted like that, they did show some resistance(?) to alec’s leadership when he was appointed head and questioned him. it probably took a lot out of him because it’s one thing to have your people doubt you as a leader because of your actions or words; your decisions as a leader, it’s another thing for them to mistrust you entirely because of a fundamental part of your identity that you can’t change. you can build trust by publicly admitting and apologising for mistakes and putting in honest work to be better, but it’s impossible to build trust when the other person doesn’t even see you as human to begin with.

this is turning into a hoti!alec ramble but i promise i will bring this back to politician!alec okay i promise i just need to establish the headcanons i’m building on first sorry

okay back to business!!!! i feel like alec is so very genuine and honest outside of the political sphere alec “casual wedding vows” lightwood anyone? so when he does show his ability to be a complete fucking shark in the political arena a lot of people are blindsided because they expected him to be very honest and direct but he knows that as much as he’d like to be genuine, he needs that shrewdness to navigate the political minefield of idris. he prefers directness, but if you take the manipulative, indirect, route and underestimate him, he will not hesitate to turn your own methods against you.

he is also the type of leader who constantly tries to make an effort. his intentions were genuine with the downworld cabinet and i think that if it wasn’t set up in the middle of the shitstorm which was valentine’s re-emergence and the circle’s rise, it would have been more successful. he has a lot to learn and unlearn, and he (an utter perfectionist) will do as much as he can to help the downworld. i like to think that in a post s3 world, but before the time skip, he helps to re-establish the ties between the shadow world factions in new york and focuses on being the nephilim voice of the downworld to the clave, constantly trying to push for new accords and reformed policies, and he makes an effort to not speak over the downworlders, but instead be their representative and ally to the clave because the clave are racist bastards who wouldn’t listen to them but they have to listen to alec lightwood (”it’s lightwood-bane, actually”), one of the heroes who stepped up to defend alicante when the rift to edom opened. (and also because if they did try to slander or belittle him, they risk angering magnus, who has enough clout to embargo most warlocks from providing magical assistance to any local institutes, if he feels that the downworld is being ignored despite the fact that a warlock is the sole reason why alicante was’t razed to the ground, or that he and his husband are being targeted by the clave. because they are That Couple.) in conclusion alec is a good ally okay?

but as much as he tries/tried to do right by the clave, he sometimes also doesn’t give a fuck about them. he’ll be in meetings at idris, and maybe they’re discussing asinine, irrelevant, minor issues that are really just stupid excuses to showboat and compare family clout and whatnot and he’ll be pissed as fuck because instead of discussing actual relevant issues like irregularities/strange patterns in demon attacks, hunting down remaining circle sleeper cells, reparations for the downworld (like for the heavenly fire project), rewriting the accords, rebuilding idris, helping get the attacked institutes back up and running, you know, actual important issues that need attention but no, we’re discussing some petty family squabble that turned into a political feud that involves everyone and their fucking uncle. and he gets so damn angry he just blows up and rants at them and tears them a new one. he finishes his impressively long spiel with “you know what? fuck this. when you guys are done fighting like children and taking up precious time that we should be using to talk about real, pressing issues that affect the entire shadow world instead of five people at this table, let me know and i’ll be there but until then don’t bother. if you’ll excuse me, i’m going back to my husband. thank you. and for the last damn time, my name is alec lightwood-bane. i already changed my damn name legally so fucking use it.” and he just leaves to go back to new york because fuck the clave.

he goes back home to the loft and it’s like the stress and anger just melts away because he walks in on magnus dancing around the kitchen as he cooks dinner, singing dancing queen at the top of his lungs, laughing when magnus twirls to see him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen with his heart eyes and blushes at being caught doing somethin so silly

he becomes a successful inquisitor by sheer force of will and determination. it’s not at all intentional, but it just happens. with the success of the cabinet and the measures he puts in place, he shares it with other institute heads and slowly more and more institutes are collaborating with the local downworld and most of the time, the statistics pay off in the long run. there are starting troubles as with any new initiatives, but soon enough there is a sizeable number of institutes following them successfully and it’s hard for the clave to ignore. alec gets invited to alicante to discuss the possibility of him becoming inquisitor just when the downworld deputy program is taking off in new york. (it all starts with simon asking “so are you guys nephilim or shadowhunters? what’s the difference? or is it interchangeable?” and then they realise that while nephilim is a term to describe half-angel half-human beings, shadowhunter is a term more commonly used by active duty demon hunters and drops out of use as a self-descriptor when the nephilim in question leaves combat. “so that means technically anyone in the shadow world whose job it is to fight demons is a shadowhunter? right?” and the lightbulbs light up in alec’s head immediately) oops time to get back to it the point.

okay so!!!! the clave offer alec the position of inquisitor and it’s part recognition for his efforts and acknowledgement of his skills, part them wanting to keep him under their control. how does that work? well it’s simple. if alec is inquisitor and the clave makes it as hard as possible for him to do any effective work, bogging him down with bureaucracy and and votes on motions that are just shy of the majority needed to pass laws etc etc. basically throw every road block they can at him and wear him down; forcing him to step down and thus silencing him, and by extension, the downworlders who rely on him for a voice in the clave.

malec side note: so they first say that magnus can come to alicante and make an exception for him, and the general plan is to make it look like they’re actually doing something good when it’s to lull them into a false sense of security. (but alec and magnus choose to live in brooklyn first because despite everything, it is still dangerous for magnus to be the only warlock in a city full of nephilim) but then alicante opens up to the rest of the shadow world, magnus becomes the high warlock of alicante, and the clave are dealing with the force of nature that is known power couple and ultimate badasses magnus and alec lightwood-bane. oops.

but they underestimate the power of alec’s Lightwood(-Bane) DeterminationTM and his sheer stubbornness. so their plan backfires spectacularly when within the first few years, he’s implemented laws to open alicante up to downworlders, expunge criminal records of downworlders who were previously wrongfully charged with crimes, rehabilitation of wrongfully imprisoned downworlders, mandatory downworld cabinet and downworld deputy initiatives worldwide, as well as be part of the core group that rewrote the accords to be more fair.

alec probably retires after like five years of being inquisitor and then magnus steps down as high warlock and they just travel the world together and be in love and happy, occasionally consulting on political issues here and there but for the most part they just run off into the sunset to be immortal husbands together because they’ve sacrificed enough for the good of the shadow world to last several lifetimes.

#skyrambles #skygetsasks #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #thank you for the ask anon!!! (although im like 99% sure i know who you are skbskbshfbsfh)#Anonymous

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lethe-distillery-blog · 5 years

Text

Tall, Dark, and Fictional

I stepped through the door and took a long deep breath, appreciating the smell of old paper, glue, a miasma hanging thick in the air. The second hand bookstore on the corner of Fifth and Main didn't have a proper name so far as anyone I knew was aware but if you mentioned either 'The Book Store' or the owner Bartholomew, everyone who did any sort of reading in the surrounding area knew exactly who or where you were talking about. It wasn't a big shop, though that was difficult to discern, six hundred square feet or so I think though the floor to ceiling bookshelves or random stacks of books at the end like hastily thrown together end caps created a winding labyrinth that shrunk the already small space into something that felt almost like a giant hug from old friends.

I smiled as much as I could at Bartholomew, he refused to answer to Bart, who sat behind the counter; he wasn't an old man, despite his name, in fact he didn't look much over thirty with eyes that were a deep royal shade of blue and auburn hair and a comfortable personality. I saw where he had his own book neatly set on top of a tiny table that served as a checkout, though it too was piled with books. He waved me over. "I have something for you." Being a regular had special perks with Bartholomew, he tended to follow what you bought and then be helpful and warn you if you accidentally bought a second copy, or if he got something in that he thought you might like. Where he stored all of that information, I had no idea. Especially since that was all on top of his store and the knowledge he needed for that as well as any personal life he may have. My mood must have shown as I walked over because I saw the slightest frown on his features. It wasn't that his lips had turned down but there were a couple faint wrinkles between the eyebrows from them drawing together ever so subtly. In all the years I had known him, I hadn’t known him to express emotion much, my guess was that he was slightly autistic. "That asshole bugging you again?"

I flinched reflexively as memories came floating back. "Yeah." It came out weaker than I wanted, I hated that I let people affect me so much. It wasn't like I wasn't used to bullies, in fact, I had been teased all the way throughout middle and high school, thank God I had finally grown into my buck teeth and they weren't quite so pronounced anymore and though I could do with putting on some weight I wasn't nearly so lanky, and I wore contacts now instead of glasses. Yeah. I was still haunted by the demons of my past, and it seemed, the present too. I had no idea how people could be so willingly cruel. A warmth covered my hand breaking through the memories and dark thoughts and I looked up to see Bartholomew's hand covering mine. Even through his white reading gloves I could feel his body heat. It was nice, the moment of contact, a reminder that I wasn't alone. He pulled back and I smiled my appreciation and he nodded. "So what did you have for me?" I asked, forcing a subject change off of me, he took the hint. I glanced over the assortment and took in some details as I looked over the scattered assortment of mysteries, romances, even a couple World War II biographies lay strewn about.

Going to a nearby pile Bartholomew brought over three books. One was the next in the series I was reading, I had purchased the previous two last week and I was already done them, they were incredibly addictive. One was a book I had asked him to reserve for me, The Historian by Elizabeth Kristova, a remarkable Dracula rewrite that I had read quite a few years ago and had wanted a copy, and the last was a book I hadn't seen before. Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice. I flipped it over to read the blurb. It sounded interesting enough. "Thank you Bartholomew, I'll take all three when I'm done looking around." I smiled again, feeling in a much better mood and he nodded and set them aside for later. Aside from Bartholomew, I was the only one in the store, not really surprising given that it was Friday at two in the afternoon, though I knew it picked up later when everyone was done work. I had actually left college early to make sure I was alone. I hadn't intended to spend anything today but I had just wanted to the warm comfort that books provided to me, and here it was especially prevalent.

I wandered the narrow allies slowly, taking my time in the claustrophobic spaces finding new friends stacked amongst the old and even a few that I might have to take home with me at some later date. The Resurrectionist: The Lost Work of Dr. Spencer Black was one such book, it looked to be a fascinating study of cryptids though the anatomical drawings in the back of the book were what really piqued my curiosity. Still, I set it back regretfully. I had no money to spare until the end of the month, rent was due and I didn't have nearly as much to start pulling things off the shelves because I knew once I started I wouldn't stop. Didn’t know how I was going to afford the three at the counter either but I would try.

I frowned to myself, stopping suddenly and squinting. Yes, that was in fact a book tucked up on top of the others. It was small, tiny really. Nothing much more than what people used for a pocket day timer. It was wrapped in what felt like leather, old, worn, but well cared for obviously. It was unadorned, not even a title or author, just a canvas of leather. It felt old, the pages looked thicker than average, vellum maybe? Whatever it was, it looked old. Though it seemed odd that it was packed here, tucked in amongst the paperbacks in young adult mystery. I flipped through the book, the words seemed blurry almost, indistinct, had the book been damaged? I couldn’t tell for sure, it looked, fuzzy almost, yet the rest of the world around it looked clear and crisp, thanks to my contacts, or else I would have thought I had forgotten to put them in. Something that happened so frequently it could almost be called habit at this point. Confused a bit I stopped flipping through and turned to the front page by some strange compulsion.

There was writing there, a crisp written script that was both beautiful and masculine, it looked, messy wasn’t the right word but it was the only one coming to mind. As if the writer were using a fountain pen, that slight smudging of the letters as the ink spread and dried. Still though, whomever wrote it had a beautiful hand, it was an elegant cursive that spoke, through with nothing more than swirls on a page, of power, elegance, and refinement. I started reading.

“It’s been a long time.” I could practically here his words, rich and cultured and a deep cadence that made me think of my favorite treat, chocolate covered caramel, why did I think it was a him? Still, I couldn’t stop myself. “I suppose that introductions are in order.” I could swear I heard him sigh with resignation. “My name, if you want to call it that, is Nefelibata Lacuna, though I won’t be offended if you cannot pronounce a mouthful like that.”

Stopping, I tried, just the faintest of whispers. “Nefel la bata, La coo na.” I felt silly, but Bartholomew was the only one in the store and I was far enough away that I doubted he heard me, or even if he did, I doubted he would care.

“Close,” I read on, frowning, “Closer than most in fact, glad you are smart as well as beautiful. Good. Neh fell lee bah ta. You pronounced the other correct.” The voice was patient, smooth as it spoke but I frowned, stopping my reading. This, was a bit too creepy, a bit too, close for comfort. Flipping through the book again it still seemed blurry. Indistinct, blurry, letters jumbled together, but the moment I focused, everything became clear. “I think I concerned you.” The voice inside my head seemed to be thoughtful, a bit concerned even as I kept reading. “Was it too much? I thought that an introduction would be the best course of action after all.” My curiosity kept me reading, a morbid curiosity that wanted to know where this was going. “What is your name my lady?” I looked at the next line and it was blank. In fact. The whole page was blank now. I flipped through the book. The entire thing was blank, plain white pages, even the front page. I went back to my spot, but I couldn’t find it. Everything was a plain, off-white sheet, without page numbers even. I frowned in confusion.

The front door bell tinkled and I slammed the book shut, breathing hard. I was, nervous. Of what? All I had been doing was reading a book. A strange one granted, but still. It was just a book. I glanced down at the leather bound tome, my hand was shaking, I reached out and set it back on the Hardy Boys, went to Bartholomew, quickly bought the three others and left so I could catch the bus back home.

Nefelibata Lacuna.

I shook my head trying to focus, I had The Historian out, soaking in a bath after a long day at work. I knew the story, not perfectly, but I knew the jist. I just couldn’t focus. I had a specific voice that hadn’t left me alone for three days, a memory that haunted through my thoughts at the most inopportune times. The rich, caramel chocolaty smoothness of his voice made all others sound pathetic by comparison. And, as pathetic as it sounded, being called beautiful, even by nothing more than words on a page and my idealistic imaginings of a man inside my head did things to me. I wanted to be beautiful. Thank god the braces were off. I wanted to be normal, not the tall, gawky, nerdy girl that was good at numbers and had no ass and nearly nothing for breasts.

I sighed, trying to focus on my book. I was set for relaxing. Candles flickered around my small bathroom basking everything, and me, in a warm golden glow. The scent of lavender filled my head, the bubbles a soft blanket while the water provided the warmth. I had a glass of Apothic Crush red wine, and a small plate of cheese and chocolates. I was set. And yet, despite everything, despite my every possible comfort tended to. I had yet to read more than the first paragraph. Just a quote, not even the book yet.

“How these papers have been placed in sequence will be made manifest in the reading of them. All needless matters have been eliminated, so that a history almost at variance with the possibilities of later-day belief may stand as simple fact. There is no statement of past things wherein memory may err, for all the records chosen are exactly contemporary, given from the stand-points and within the range of knowledge of those who made them.

-Bram Stoker, Dracula, 1897.”

I finally set the book aside, finally giving up after the fourth attempt of reading and retaining the words in order to flip the page and start where everything started. I leaned back, closing my eyes and focusing on the warmth and comfort that the bath provided. Rick the Dick had been a nightmare today, constantly belittling me and almost made me cry, again.His cruelty had no bounds and it was getting to the point I was tempted on looking for another job, even though I loved working in the bank, and the other ladies were fantastic, it was getting difficult to convince myself to keep going back and dealing with Rick every day. I sighed and forced myself to relax. Long, slow breaths, just like yoga had taught me. Meditation. I had thought of it as a bunch of mumbo jumbo, but it really had helped, a lot. There was only one issue the last few days. “You are smart as well as beautiful.” The voice soothed through my senses, overwhelming me so much I could never stop it. It rushed through me with a giddy exhilaration and a warmth that spread from my chest all the way to my toes.

“Who are you?” I couldn’t stop the plaintive whimper, not even knowing I had spoken aloud.

“Nefelibata Lacuna.”

I sighed. I knew his name, still didn’t know why I thought it was a him, but any time I set my imagination to say the words with a feminine voice it came up blank. Nothing. I had no voice for a feminine version. So here I was, stuck with a voice in my head that sounded like sin and satisfaction. The very essence of masculine pleasure. I couldn’t take much more of this. I was going crazy.

I was going crazy. Here I stood. In the bookstore, on the corner of Fifth and Main, with a proprietor by the name of Bartholomew. And here, in the comfortable confines of his establishment I found a corner, it was the only real place there was enough room, I sat and in my hands I held a small book. It was about the size of a time keeper with old leather casing that was worn in places but well cared for and faded nearly to black. My hands were shaking as I lifted the cover, and read. “It’s been a long time.” I kept going forwards, my breathing coming out in harsh pants. “Did I frighten you?” It, he, remembered me. My breathing hitched. “I’m sorry I cannot be more personal.” I took a long shaky breath, feeling all sorts of on edge, nervous, and perhaps a little crazy, I spoke.

“My name, is Monica.” I swallowed, feeling all kinds the fool. “Monica Brewman.”

“Monica.” One word. One simple word as though he were sampling my name on his tongue like fine wine. One word, rolled about and I felt everything in me melt, all the tension, unease, all the stress of another long day at work, the bath last night hadn’t really helped much at all. One word, and I didn’t feel alone anymore. “Take me home Monica.”

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newspaperburritos-forbreakf-blog · 6 years

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A Rush of Endorphins || Tittie

A night of homework and watching Lottie’s favorite movie leads to more than the two expected...

@sweatinlikeasinner

Lottie

The spring semester had finally started, and Lottie was STOKED.

Well, not like, super stoked. She was still incredibly salty that she had to go for another semester instead of graduating this summer like intended but it was okay, she was okay.

But it meant an extra semester of learning, and an extra semester of getting to study with Tito!

Which, okay, she definitely didn’t need to tutor him anymore. He had done an awesome job on his English paper (met with hugs when he had shown the grade to Lottie), and because he had passed this required course, it meant that he didn’t need to take it again. But it was almost unspoken that the two were still going to meet with one another to “study”. Study really just meaning that they would spend about 30 minutes actually doing their work, and then the majority of the time just spent hanging out with one another.

It was exactly what was happening during this particular study meetup. The two had been working diligently for a good while, chilling on Tito’s couch when Lottie finished up her assigned reading and question set for the night. She threw her hands up in the air as she completed her final answer, letting her head fall back onto the couch with a small laugh. “How far along are you?” She questioned before sitting up, trying to peak over his shoulder.

Tito

Thank fuck that semester was over. He got himself a nice B in that class. Thanks to Lottie. But now he had a whole other semester to worry about. It was nice that she was still around to help him if he needed it though. Their study sessions were pretty effective actually, given the fact that both of them could talk right on through the morning.

He was staring over some of his engineering problems, double checking that he didn’t leave off some stupid mistake like a negative sign or something in the equations. His brow furrowed as he attempted to read a really stupid looking scribble that he should’ve written better in the corner of his paper before looking up at her with the same expression, which soon turned into a grin at her laugh and her obvious relaxed position. “Just double checkin’ shit, my handwrittin’ gets a lil messy sometimes and my professor is like real big on showin’ work so he like counts off if he can’t read your steps.” He rolled his eyes and snorted. “Why? We gonna watch that movie you’ve been talkin’ about for like ever tonight?” Sounded a lot better than rewriting shit that he’d already done.

He plopped his book on the coffee table and scooted up on the couch, trying to find the remote in one of the cushions (stupid thing got lodged in between the arm and the cushion on all the time). “Dodge is gonna be out the whole night I think. Got a gig or something at Pixie’s. So he’s not gonna like barg in and yell during the movie again or somethin’.” He snorted at what an asshole his best friend/roommate could be. “Don’t yanno, want him scaring you or nothin’.” He sniffed slightly, putting on a tough act, though he was the one that spazzed out whenever Dodger barged into rooms and yelled shit at him.

Lottie

Lottie was happy to hear that Tito was about done with his work. Not that like, she was waiting for him to finish or anything, but it meant that they could just...you know...hang out. Relax a little bit instead of just sitting there and doing their work. She clapped her hands together as she heard this, though shooting him a small glare. “Well yeahhhhh, otherwise the professor ain’t gonna know how you got your answer. That’s important!” Her finger wagging towards him.

Her head nodded at his question though, already reaching down in her bag to grab the movie in question. It wasn’t like it was something that she just carried around with her, but usually the pair ended up watching something on TV so she had to come prepared.

She held the movie out in front of her, wiggling the box around so that Tito could see it. “Yes! I mean, if you want to that is.” She replied with a small shrug, not wanting to force him to watch something that he didn’t actually want to. “It’s just like, Legally Blonde is my favorite movie of all time, and I want you to watch it, cause I think you might like it too, or well, I hope that you’ll like it.” She mused with another smile. “You just gotta promise me two things if we do watch this. One, you gotta finish rewriting your problems so your professor doesn’t yell at you. Two, you gotta just, give the movie a chance. Don’t just be like,” She sat up for another moment, flipping her hair off her shoulder. “Oh my gosh Lottie this is the worst movie in the world, I can’t believe you’re making me watch this.”

Which she didn’t think that Tito would, but you know, it had happened before to her.

Lottie blushed a little at that though, wondering why Tito had decided to mention that to her. She was a little curious where his friend was, but you know, it wasn’t like he sounded scary or anything. If he was so close with Tito then obviously he had to be a good guy. “He doesn’t scare me.” She added with a smile. “I think he’s funny.”

Tito

Tito gave a slight pout at Lottie making him promise he’d rewrite his homework but he agreed nonetheless. The rest of the requests just seemed like she wanted him to be a decent human being? Like who goes around and says shit like that to people. He deadpanned his sarcastic response, “Right, because I totally say shit like that.” He looked at her, “I ain’t gonna tell you anythin’ you like is stupid. Just cause ya like it means that I should really give it a shot, yanno? And I’m not just gonna like be a dick.” He snorted and smiled at the end of it to show her he knew she didn’t mean anything by it. It did make him a little mad that someone would say that shit to her. He took the DVD from her and looked at the title and all the pink on it. Definitely seemed like a Lottie movie. What Lottie didn’t know was that he’d seen just about every John Hughes movie under the sun, including Pretty In Pink. Tito had a slight soft spot for classic chick flicks, but he’d just tell you that there was nothing else on tv.

He got up and went to put the DVD in, grabbing a blanket too on his way back as he turned off the lights and got everyone settled in for the movie. He quirked a brow at her and shoot his head, “Don’t let him hear you say that. Go right to his head. Be more work for me to keep that ego of his from takin’ up the whole apartment.” He flopped back down onto the couch next to her, fanning out the blanket to put over them as the beginning credits and music began playing through the speakers.

Lottie

Lottie was thrilled to hear that he was open to watching the movie. Again, not that she thought he would ever, like, not be open to it, but it was just always nice to see that Tito was so on board with doing things that Lottie enjoyed or made her happy. “I knowwww, I knowwww,” Lottie mused, bobbing her head around as he got up to put the DVD in (definitely not checking out his butt), “But you know, it just like, always makes me happy that you want to watch movies that I like or do things that I like to do.”

Before he returned back to the couch, Lottie placed her books back into her bag to free up some of the space on the couch. She grabbed the one edge of the blanket though when he did eventually sit down, taking it upon herself to just cozy on up. Which also including scooching just a little bit closer to him. You know, just for added warmth. Definitely not because she wanted to be closer to him.

It was the winter….it was cold. Mhm, that was definitely it.

“I think you’re talking about yourself now.” Lottie teased, turning up to him with a smile before focusing her attention back to the movie when the opening credits began to come on. As the movie rolled, Lottie found herself silently speaking the words along with the movie, not at all ashamed at the amount of times that she had watched it. Though there were a few times towards the beginning where she tried to steal a glance at Tito, to see what his expressions read to show her if he was actually enjoying the movie.

Tito

“‘Course, that’s what like friends do right? We gotta like take interest in interests or whatever, chica. Who wants a friend that don’t care about what you’re doing or what you like?” He put up with a lot of Dodger’s shit that way to be honest. Just being a good friend. As she scooched closer, it was really only natural for him to lift his arm up right? Like it was just more comfortable to have her in his side with his arm wrapped around her. No one wanted like someone squished up against their arm, its why people fought for arm rests all the time.

He glanced over during the first couple scenes of the movie, smiling at Lottie who was mouthing words when he felt everything halt at Warner telling Elle he was breaking up with her at this fancy ass fuckin’ restaurant in front of everyone because she wasn’t like cut out for his family. He held himself back from yelling at the tv and just angrily whispered as Elle’s shocked, upset face flashed across the screen. No parallels whatsoever between him and Daisy that could be causing this. Nah, this fucker was just a dick. “Aye, who the fuck does this asshole think he is? She ain’t done nothin’ but be nice as shit to you and supportive and you dump her in a fuckin’ restaurant.”

Lottie

“Exactly.” Lottie smiled, nodding her head at Tito’s statement. “It’s why we still need to do that thing at Pixie’s. The um, oh! The Latin night thing! Cause you said you’ve danced before right? Or you mentioned it way back at the election ball I think.” Lottie spoke, sort of just verbalizing her thought process as she tried to remember when the heck he had brought it up. Which, now she just felt silly about because obviously Tito had just mentioned it because he was trying to be nice. There were probably like, ten other people that he wanted to take over her.

She tucked herself into his side more as his arm fell around her body, not being able to help the small smile that appeared across her face. It was a cuddle, and she definitely loved her little cuddle sessions, but she was also happy that it was with Tito.

As he sort of angrily whispered out, Lottie looked up towards him. This was bar far the worst part of the movie - Elle getting her heart just absolutely crushed by a guy who she thought was about to propose to her (literally Lottie’s worst nightmare). She was just surprised to see Tito getting so into the movie already. “Hey, it’s alright.” She smiled up towards him, not wanting to laugh considering he like, actually looked upset. “Warner is a giant butthead who doesn’t deserve Elle in his life. You just gotta wait though, you’ll be cheering her on even more than this.” Her voice a whisper so as not to overpower the movie completely.

Tito

Tito grinned at the mention of Latin Night. It kind of was his thing, though he hadn’t been there in a while. He had been too careful in keeping himself sobered up for the last few months to really do anything. He was happy she remembered though. “Yeah, that’d be great. Show off my moves.”

He realized after he said it that it was slightly harsher than the average person watching a movie for the first time with someone who really loved this movie so he slumped down slightly, if she could see the blush he’d be bright red. Guess it all just touched a nerve. He felt better after she smiled at him and assured him that it would all be okay. So he began to watch the movie. Watching Elle rise up and complete all her tasks and finally confront Warner for the first time with the classic “What? Like it's hard?” line which made him grin and snicker at that fucker’s face.

He felt back about the class scene, kind of having flashbacks to being sort of behind in his own studies and getting called out for it. Hell, he hadn’t been in a classroom since he was like eleven, and even then he hadn’t paid attention. He’d done his GED all on his own, studied himself for it, just like Elle had for her LSATs. More and more he found himself relating to this blonde character (the irony was real considering the people who’d rejected him in the past and put him down had all been blonde).

“She’s got a real nice car. Like imagine the miles she coulda put on it driving it to Harvard from the West Coast… Or then again, she probably had it like shipped over or somethin’.” He was thinking out loud through all of that. He sighed and looked at the screen, grumbling, “Why’s she so fixated on this guy? He seems like a royal douche who like, got a fiance in a few months after he broke up with her.”

Lottie

She had not really been expecting him to want to go with her. Then again, he could just be saying that because (again), it was the nice thing to do when in reality he would just never tell her when he was going, and take someone else instead. (Which, for the record, the thought of Tito taking someone else to Latin night made something twist in her chest, and she hated that it did that, but it did). She smiled though, turning up towards him with a laugh. “Yes, all of your fantastic dance moves.” Lottie added, nudging her elbow a bit into his side.

Lottie had also noticed when he slumped down in the couch, though not noticing the red creep across his face because of the lights being off. Regardless, Lottie hadn’t wanted him to feel upset or embarrassed for any reason considering they were just watching a movie. It’s why she tucked herself into his side a little further, resting her head against him. “If it makes you feel better, the first time I watched this, I threw my popcorn at my tv.” Her voice back down to a whisper.

“You would notice the car.” Lottie finally spoke, laughing a bit more.. Which, was not a bad thing at all. Cars were his thing. “She has enough money she probably got it sent over. Or drove with her besties cross country. Think of how much fun that would be!” Her voice raising as she thought back to her little trip with Violet and Belle. “Well, I mean, she was in love with him. She thought that they had a future together.” Lottie began, not really knowing why she was explaining Elle’s behaviors, but maybe it was because she found herself relating to the blonde in a few ways. That belief that love could conquer anything and prevail, and that maybe if she “bettered” herself that the guy would take her back. Tito

Tito grinned, happy that she wanted to go to Latin Night with him. It was true. Latin Night was his thing and it was kind of one of the things he thought he was really good at. “Hey, you witnessed some pretty great dancing, imagine that but better ‘cause waltzing aint really my speciality.”

He felt her slide further up against him, enjoying the feeling of her getting cozy next to him. It was the warmth obviously. No feelings or anything past friendship. Sure. He just absently ran his fingers along her shoulder and arm as he watched the movie. He chuckled, looking over at her and perking up a little, “Yeah? Good. Show that asshole who’s boss.”

He nodded, listening to her and looking at the tv screen as scenes went by of Elle’s difficulties in getting through Harvard continued to flash by. “Yeah, but like, I dunno, he’s just… not right. I mean, he just seems real condescending and stuff. You don’t treat your girl like that. Or even like an ex-girlfriend or any girl like that.” He mumbled out as he looked away from the movie and towards her. “I mean I’d totally punch him in his dumb face for her.” He shrugged, “But that’s just me.”

Lottie

“Oh stop that.” Lottie mused, playfully hitting Tito’s chest with the arm that was not currently tucked into his side. “You did really well dancing back then.” It had definitely helped to cheer her up, the little spins and turns. She had definitely been impressed, not that like, she had expected him to be a terrible dancer. Lottie just had not expected him to be the type to know how to waltz.

She felt his arm sort of wrap around her body a little bit more as she cozied into him, his hand running against her shoulder and arm which sent a chill down her spine. Just as something as simple as being tucked into him, an act as casual as Tito pulling her into him caused those weird flutters to return.

“No, you certainly shouldn’t.” Lottie replied, shaking her head. “He’s like, the absolute worst person that someone could ever be with. He gets so much worse too…” Lottie began, realizing then that she was about to spoil the movie and stopped. She was glad though to see that Tito understood that Warner had been in the wrong this whole time. Not many guys would look at his behavior and question it, instead, cheering him on instead of Elle. When he made a comment about punching him though, Lottie just laughed. “Nooo,” Her head shaking as she moved to grab his one hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around her. “Violence doesn’t help anything, no punching.”

Tito

The mechanic smirked at her slightly, proud of himself that he’d made a good impression after Dodger had dragged him there against his will and he’d gotten into an argument with Rita and Roscoe the fuckhole. “Thanks. Glad I got ya to smile that night.”

He nodded at her words, he was the absolute worse. A total asshole, scumbag who just saw women as ways of gaining social standing and like that they were some tool or somethin’. He’d been losing to guys like that his whole life and he just didn’t understand it.

He laughed as she grabbed his hand, tugging it back slightly but letting her hold it still as he leaned forward, though he was suddenly realizing how close they were to each other right now. He was still smiling a bit as he looked over her face, “Well, for you, I won’t start punching. ‘Cause I don’t wanna yanno, get the Lottie fury. Who knows what kinda things Lots can do when she’s mad at me.” He shrugged slightly, “Wouldn’t do it for nobody else… but yanno, you’re… Lottie so.” He didn’t pull away or move forward but his voice got a little more quiet and he suddenly wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. He was more concerned with the eyes looking right back at his.

Lottie

“Me too.” Lottie replied, a smile on her face once more. That was the thing about Tito, he always managed to somehow put a smile on her face, no matter what was going on, he just had a way of bringing that out of her. She was very thankful for that.

Lottie was suddenly becoming very aware though of how close they were sitting to one another. Sure, there had been times where they sort of cuddled up when they hung out, but they never really got...this close. Except for when he had accidentally spent the night at her house. Being this close to him though....Lottie liked it. She wanted to be right next to him, and hoped that maybe he felt the same way. It was hard to tell, but the way that he had leaned towards her before he spoke, how even though he tugged his arm back, her hand stayed in his. She could feel herself holding her breath as he spoke, her eyes just darting between his. “Really?” Her voice just as quiet as his.

Tito

Tito felt nervous but like calm at the same time, like all of this made sense. It just felt right that he was this close to her and that maybe he should just get closer. So he leaned in a bit more and she didn’t pull away, which was a good sign. “Yeah…”

He glanced down at her lips briefly and then back up at her face to slowly move in a bit further. “I mean… you’re not like everyone else to me… You’re somethin’ else entirely…” He leaned in, his nose practically brushing hers. The movie was drowning out the sounds of keys in the door before it slammed wide open and Tito immediately jumped back out of habit, staring wide eyed at the now open door with, of course, Dodger, standing there. Fucker ruined everything.

Lottie

Tito leaned in once more, and Lottie felt frozen in place. The more he moved closer towards her, the closer she wanted to move. With her eyes not leaving his, she could see the moment that he had glanced down. It had only lasted a second, maybe two, but Lottie had seen it all the same.

She knew what a look like that meant.

He didn’t stop there though, no. Because Tito continued to lean in, Lottie able to feel his breath against her own. He told her she was something else, and she felt her heart jump in her chest. He was...he was amazing. Truly amazing, and Lottie was so lost that she hardly noticed what was going on on the other side of the room. Lottie began to lean in herself, the tip of her nose brushing against his, but it was then that the front door swung open, DODGER busting into the room.

Lottie jumped back probably about a foot as he entered the room, Dodger of course loud as ever. “Forgot my damn journal!” He shouted out into the room, flipping the light switch on before noticing how close Lottie and Tito were with one another. A shit-eating grin appeared across his face as he stopped in his tracks. “You twos look like yous havin’ fun.” His hand gesturing between the two on the couch.

Lottie didn’t look at Dodger though, too embarrassed to do anything. Had she really come that close to kissing Tito? No, no. It was...no. Lottie stood up off the couch, “I um, I should go.” She whispered out towards Tito, feeling like she had just made a giant fool of herself. Tito had not wanted to kiss her...she had just gotten caught up in the moment and was about to make a huge mistake had it not been for Dodger. So not even thinking, she grabbed her coat and began to make her way out of the apartment.

Dodger just looked at Tito once Lottie left though. “The fuck was goin’ on theres?”

Tito

Everything happened so quickly. One moment he was about to kiss Lottie and she was totally leaning in and everything and the next fuckin’ Dodger was in the room and Lottie was leaving and Tito could only just sit there shocked and trying to comprehend what the fuck happened. Words weren’t coming to his brain to tell her to stay and honestly, because dodger was there he didn’t want her to stay because then they’d have to deal with him.

Dodger’s fuckin’ comments.

“Obviously, nothing, ya fuck.” He grumbled, pushing the blanket off of him as Legally Blonde continued to play in the background. Shit. She forgot her DVD and her bag. He turned off the tv, grabbing the DVD and putting it in her bag. Maybe he could chase her down and grab her before she got too far.

He shoved past Dodger, purposely trying to knock him over the couch and opened the door, looking out to try to see if he could spot her.

Lottie

Lottie had gotten out of that apartment so fast that she hadn’t even realized that she had forgotten her bag. The moment that the door shut behind her, Lottie took a second to just lean her back against it, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. This was crazy, was it not? Tito had not wanted to kiss her, and Lottie had almost ruined one of the best friendships that she had because she had felt like there was something there.

After just a moment of standing there, Lottie began to move down the hallways, picking at the skin against her nails to try and focus on anything but what had just happened when she was hit with the sudden realization that she had left everything behind. The movie, her bag, (her dignity).

She stopped in her tracks, contemplating if she should just leave it, maybe text him to just drop it off on her front step or to just go back and awkwardly ask if she could get her stuff.

It was then though that she heard the door open, and she spun around so fast that she could have gotten whiplash or fallen over because of it. TIto was standing there, her bag in hand as she just stood in the middle of the hallway, still not knowing if she should approach.

Tito

As soon as he poked his head out of the doorway, he spotted Lottie, obviously standing there because her bag was in the apartment. Not cause she wanted to stay, right? No, she wanted to stay. She’d leaned in too, he wasn’t crazy, right? Why did she leave? Probably because Dodger was a fuckin’ dick that’s why.

Well, she needed her bag so he began walking forward in silence, barefoot in this hallway. “I… you left your bag…” He said stupidly as he held it up as if she wasn’t already staring at it in his hand. He came to stand right in front of her, sort of holding out the bag but also looking into those eyes again and getting those dumb feelings and honestly he’d probably kick himself either way if he did it or didn’t do it so why not? Why the fuck not?

He tugged her forward slightly by her coat and went in for it, picking up right where they’d left off in this stupid hallway and he was definitely shorter than her right now because he was barefoot and she was in boots but he didn’t care. He just leaned up and closed the distance, something he knew deep down he’d wanted to do for the last few months but was too scared she’d reject him. Hell he was still scared she would reject him, but that’s what street gang was, they were risk takers and Tito just had to get the courage up again to be that risk taker one more time and kiss the girl who’d been the nicest, sweetest, greatest person to him without a single moment of ever making him feel used. His lips connected with hers and everything just came together for him, his arms wrapping around her, hoping that she was feeling everything he was right now.

Lottie

Lottie continued to just stand there as Tito began to move towards her. She noticed the lack of shoes, figuring that he had probably just hopped off of the couch to try and get her bag back to her...not because he wanted to see her or anything. That didn’t mean that her heart wasn’t racing though. As she stood there, watching him get closer and closer, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

He spoke up, mentioning something about her bag, but Lottie wasn’t even thinking about that, wasn’t even looking at it now that he was this close. All she could do was look into his eyes, searching for just about anything to tell her that what had happened back in the apartment wasn’t just one sided.

She got her answer in a kiss.

It was unexpected, taking Lottie completely off guard, and truthfully, it had taken her a couple moments to realize what the heck was happening before she responded. After it began to set in though that Tito was currently standing in the hallway to his apartment, his arms wrapped around her as he embraced her with a kiss, Lottie responded. She began to kiss him back, her hands sliding up his chest until they were sort of just draped against his shoulders, her fingers moving towards his hair.

These months spent with Tito were some of the most enjoyable moments that Lottie had had. How many times had he been there for her when she needed it most? Never running or criticizing her, rather encouraging her to be her best self, and reminding her to not let others define who she was. It had been these last couple where she realized just how much he meant to her, how much she liked him, but had been so worried that it would destroy what they had or that Tito didn’t feel the same way towards her.

But right now, Lottie could not be happier as she stood there with their arms wrapped around one another, smiling into the kiss as she didn’t dare separate just yet.

Tito

Lottie had been there for him during his most embarrassing and humbling moments. Right from the start she had been nothing but kind and generous to him (even if she did try to give him coffee, she knew better now). She lifted him up when the world tried to put him down and really, truly, honestly believed in him. It had been a long time since anyone aside from the gang had believed in his potential.

God, kissing Lottie after all this time… everything just felt right. His heart was pounding in his chest and at first he was worried he’d totally fucked up but she started kissing him back and he couldn’t help but pull her closer to his body as he still clutched her bag in one of his hands. Her lips were nothing like he imagined, they were entirely better.

The kiss was great. Honestly, something he hadn’t felt in a long time and it had definitely madea difference that he’d waited it out and hadn’t rushed into it all. The timing just all weirdly fell into place. He didn’t want the kiss to end, but it had to at some point. I mean, he was barefoot in a public hallway with Dodger rummaging through the apartment and the door wide open. So he pulled away slowly, opening his eyes to give a small little sheepish smile. “Kinda wanted to do that for a minute.” He let out a nervous chuckle, his arms didn’t move from her, never wanting her to leave them as his hands ran down along her back and sides. “I… uh, you wanna go back in? I mean you don’t have to if you really gotta go but… I mean, I think I should finish your favorite movie right? Ain’t right to leave me hanging on if my girl, Elle’s gonna like show everyone who’s the shit.”

Lottie

Every thought that Lottie had about this being a mistake just melted off of her as she stood there, her hands tangling into Tito’s hair as his arms got tighter around her body. She really didn’t want this to end, wanting to just stay in his arms forever.

She thought back to when they first met. That day in the library when he had looked up to her like she was the sun, the nervous smile that had appeared across his face when he dropped his phone, when her hand fell against his. At the time, Lottie hadn’t really given it much thought - her thoughts consumed by someone else. At the same time though, that very first meeting was what had sort of set the path for them. Just full of smiles, encouragement, laughs, everything. Being in his arms right now just felt so right, and she was curious just how long he had been wanting to do this.

Lottie knew when she did. It was the day he had come over to console her. She had chopped those feelings up to being wanted when she was at her lowest, thinking that it really wasn’t anything more than that, but when she left Swynlake to go back home, and he had consumed her thoughts, she knew that it wasn’t just what she initially thought. That there was something there. Tito separated from the kiss, Lottie keeping her eyes closed for a couple beats. As he laughed, Lottie opened her eyes, her head dipping down for a moment so that her gaze was on the floor, the stupidest smile appearing across her face. This is what happy felt like. Her eyes eventually found his though, her hands remaining wrapped behind his head as he spoke. There was a small part of her that did worry for what was to come next. If maybe Tito was just looking for a one and done sort of thing. That he didn’t really care for her all that much and just wanted some action (wouldn’t be the first time it happened to her). He spoke though, inviting her back in to finish the movie, and the smile stayed plastered against Lottie’s face, her breathing heavy because of the nerves just rushing through her veins. She didn’t really have to go like Tito had mentioned, it was a way for Lottie to get out of the house so that she could leave without embarrassing herself. Now though, she didn’t care. Her head nodded after he spoke, the tiniest of laughs slipping out. “Yeah, um, I would like to. I mean, if you want me to come back in that is…”

Tito

The mechanic couldn’t help the grin that was plastered on his face. Everything he’d been feeling was validated with one singular action and yanno, he was pretty sure Lottie had some feelings herself (then again, it wouldn’t be the first time he thought that about a rich blonde girl). A small bit of doubt crept back into his mind momentarily about her wanting to come back inside with him. Maybe it was all too soon, too fast or something.

Instead she laughed and kept close to him, telling him she’d like to come back and spend time with him. He grinned, “‘Course I want you to come back. Can’t leave me hangin’ on this movie. Plus we had a comfy setup.” He shrugged and gave a small wink at her, because the real reason (although those were attributing ones) was that he wanted to be around her more and he’d take any chance he could to get that.

He slung her bag over his shoulder, not caring how dumb and silly he probably looked, forgetting about Dodger in the apartment or if he’d left or anything like that and took her hand in his, leading her back into his apartment and out of the hallway to go finish their movie.

Lottie

Lottie would normally be in her glory in a situation like this. Finding out that the guy she had been slowly developing a crush on had felt the same way and had even initiated everything would have sent her over the moon. And Lottie was, she truly was. But there was that feeling in the back of her stomach that made her wonder and worry about everything that was come. What did this mean? Did it mean anything, or was Lottie already trying to read too much into it? Did Tito actually like, like like her? Or was he just….you know….looking for the next available girl to “hang” with.

But no, Tito wasn’t like that. He had always been so honest with her ever since the beginning. He had to have meant it...he wouldn’t have kissed her in the first place if he didn’t at least feel something, right?

It was that thought, seeing the smile appear across his face, the way that he had just reached out to grab her hand, and doing something as simple as carry her bag for her that had made it feel like there were a thousand little baby crawdads just doing marathons in her stomach. Lottie had been about to grab her bag too before Tito had slung it against his shoulder, which was a funny sight honestly, seeing this giant pink bag just hanging off of him. Though she couldn’t even focus on that because his hand had taken hers, pulling her towards him as they walked towards the apartment.

Lottie didn’t care if Dodger was there right now (which he wasn’t, Dodger had decided to be #respectful and jump out the fire escape so as not to run into the two), didn’t care if she was making a mistake (which she was a little worried that she had, couldn’t think about that now), didn’t even care what this meant. All she cared about was just the utter and absolute joy that she felt as she walked hand in hand with him. There was a stupid smile on her face. A stupid, big, giant, bright, idiotic smile on her face as she turned up to him. “It was pretty comfy.” She replied, moving a little bit closer towards him. Her head fell down for just a moment though, shaking it for barely a second, still not able to believe everything that had just happened.

#tittie

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not-close-to-straight · 7 years

Text

Bad Ideas (Fourteen)

Trigger warnings-- sexual assault (discussed/threatened) violence, people die. Violent!Peter is not to be fucked with, and he goes to a pretty dark place.

MASTERLIST

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God it hurts. Peter knew without opening his eyes that he was tied to a chair, his arms forced back in an uncomfortable stretch, his legs tied down as well. Definitely wasn't at home any more, not that there would be much left of their house after that explosion, but he could smell the dank and damp of a subterranean basement and that made him nervous.

Everything hurt so badly, from his head where it had smashed into the floor, clear down to his feet, probably burned from the blast since he had been barefoot.

He had been thrown into the second bedroom when the rocket blew, landing on the bed for a split second before he had managed to flip it over on top of himself and curl into a ball, trying to avoid the worst of the debris.

He didn't remember getting dragged it of the house, or the ride to wherever he was now, but everything fucking hurt and he couldn't help groaning when he tried to lift his head.

“Pete?”

Thank god Wade is here too. “Wade?” He licked his lips and gingerly straightened up. The Alpha was tied to a chair several yards away, ankles and hands shackled, rope wrapped around him several time to keep him immobile.

“Oh fuck baby boy I wasn't sure if you were okay.” Wade tried to lean forward to get a better look at him. “Been calling your name for hours, I was so worried you weren't going to wake up. You okay? Just banged up? You alright? I am going to kill these guys, Peter I swear to god.”

“I think I'm fine.” Peter shifted as well as he could with his arms tied to his sides and wrists handcuffed behind him. “Just sore, I think. Who came after us? Have you seen anyone yet?”

“I don't know who's behind this.” Wade shook his head.” Last thing I remember is watching them drag you away, I must have blacked out before they got to me. And we've been sitting here for a while. Camera in the corner, they must be waiting for you to wake up or something, I don't know.”

“Are you okay?” Wade was covered in blood, but Peter couldn't see any open wounds. “Is all that blood yours?” He was worried, even knowing the Alpha could heal from probably anything.

“Everything that broke is already fixed.” Wade replied and flexed his big arms, testing his ropes. “Pretty sure I punctured a lung, but breathing got a lot easier about half an hour ago so I think I'm fine again. We need to get the hell out of here, though. Right away.”

“Oh, that's not happening.” A door behind Peter swung open and someone new joined them. Wade's head jerked up, his eyes coloring red as they narrowed in anger.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Oh that doesn't matter.” The man came to a stop right behind Peter, and Wade watched his omega tense uncomfortably. “You don't really care what my name is and this little snack--” he placed a long thin hand on Peter's shoulder. “--won't be alive long enough to remember, so why bother with introductions? In fact, you can just call me sir.” He bent down to Peter's ear, lips brushing against skin as he spoke. “Let's hear you say ‘yes sir’ omega.”

“Don't touch him.” Wade growled and Peter closed his eyes, trying to will his Alpha to stay calm until they knew what was going on.

“You know, Wilson.” The man stood back up, leaving his hand on Peter's shoulder. “I have to say I was more than a little surprised to hear that you had shown back up on the radar. In fact, I thought after that last botched job that the professor and his silly group of mutants had tracked you down and converted you. But I never expected to find out you were just playing house with a little thing like this. That was ingenious… I mean, really, kudos on keeping such a low profile. How did you hide your fucked up face from the rest of the world though? And for that matter,” the man leaned close again and flicked his tongue against Peter's ear. “What's a pretty little omega like you doing with him?”

Peter refused to even flinch, even as he got a noseful of fake Alpha and wanted to be sick. The man smelled almost rancid, a sure indicator of extensive drug use, but also a sign of an artificial alpha-- one that was the result of experiments and injections to rewrite his biology. Who is this guy?

Half a dozen armed guards came through the same door, walking around to stand behind Wade, guns ready.

“Now then.” The man left Peter's side and headed towards Wade, and Peter finally got a good look at him.

He didn't look like… anything. Not anything special anyway. Just an average guy in an average suit backed up by a whole lot of muscle with guns. A natural beta, judging by his build, but just reeking of artificial alpha hormones, and his eyes seemed like they were maybe permanently tinted red as a result of the hormones coursing through him.

“Now, I don't have anything personal against you Wade. Not really. I mean you're an asshole, but most of us are.” He said conversationally. “But someone out there wants you gone and is offering a bunch of money and isn't that just the nature of our work?”

“You're a merc?” Wade looked him over with a sneer. “Don't look like anything special to me. I can smell the fake Alpha in you, didn't know they let lab rats carry guns these days.”

The man seemed to flinch a little, then drew himself up even taller. “Yes, well, not all of us are born the correct sub gender are we? And I might not look like anything in particular, but at least I blend in with the crowd. I have to admire your bravery though, it can't be easy to have such a distinctive look, can it? I think you've cornered the market on looking special. But whether my Alpha is chemically engineered or not--” he leaned closer to Wade-- “it's not gonna stop me from tearing your little bitch apart as soon as I'm done with you.”

Peter growled a little and the man turned back to him with an amused expression. “Did the omega have something to say? What a darling little growl that was.”

The mercenary smirked in amusement. “Honestly, omega, what are you doing with Wilson? Little minx, aren't you? Too bad I only get paid if I bring your body in for proof that I killed you.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully for a minute before smiling terribly. “It's a good thing it might take me a week to kill you, then isn't it? I'd hate for all that moxy of yours to go to waste.”

He held out his hand, and one of the guards handed him a long knife.

“Now Wade, word has it that you can't die. I mean, I have heard just astonishing stories of you coming back from fires and bullet wounds and all sorts of things. Is that true?”

“So far.” Wade replied, watching him uneasily. “Haven't found anything yet that could put me down.”

“And you've tried, haven't you?” The mercenary sent a triumphant glance over his shoulder at Peter. “Did you know he makes a habit of taking his life? I heard once he jumped off a building in front of a crowd of people just to see if it would kill him. Do you still hear voices, Wilson? Or did you put enough bullets through your skull you managed to get rid of them?”

Wade didn't answer, just clenched his jaw and looked away. Peter was staring at him with something like shock on his face, but then he straightened up a little and sent only empathy compassion love towards his Alpha, knowing their captor wouldn't pick up on. Betas couldn't read the pheromones and vibes that Alphas and Omegas could, and he knew when Wade's shoulders relaxed that the Alpha had felt him. Because it didn't matter anymore--what Wade used to do. Not anymore.

“But you still bleed don't you?” The mercenary pressed, when Wade stayed silent. “Still feel quite a bit of pain? For example if I were to stab you here--”

Wade's eyes widened and he shouted for Peter to look away just as the man drove the blade deep into his thigh.

Peter wasn't sure who screamed louder, him or Wade, but he couldn't look away, not when his Alpha was being hurt.

“Did that hurt?” The mercenary actually smiled down at him. “I wasn't told I had to bring back your body at all. So this could get fun. I bet I'd have to cut you into pieces before you stopped healing, huh?”

“Remember, Pete.” Wade called. “He can't kill me baby boy. He can hurt me but I'll heal. I'm fine. Just don't watch. Look away baby. Close your eyes, it's going to be fine.”

“Wade.” Peter choked out, and wanted to scream again when the mercenary pulled another blade and stabbed his Alpha in the chest, twisting the knife into his heart until blood was pouring from the wound.

“You know, I can smell how close to heat your omega is.” He said mildly, as if he wasn't standing in a puddle of Wade's blood. “I figure he's a week out at the most and I know stress makes that sort of thing happen faster. I wonder if I could get him worked up enough to drop into a heat right here in front of you? Wouldn't that be fun? And of course, as an Alpha I'd have to help the poor defenseless omega out, wouldn't I? Really it's the right thing to do. Omegas are so vulnerable when they are ass up begging for a knot.”

Wade roared and strained at his ropes and the mercenary threw back his head and laughed. “Would you like to watch? You're a kinky little prick, aren't you? That seems like it would be right up your alley.”

“Enough!” Peter yelled, and the guy laughed again.

“Don't you know omegas are to be seen and not heard? Has Wade just let you run around disrespecting Alphas all day? That's a real shame. Quiet omegas are so much better.” He said, and smiled at Peter through clenched teeth. “So why don't you sit there quietly and maybe I'll teach you something new?”

He reached out and ripped the knife from Wade's leg, putting it up to the Alpha’s neck instead. “Have you ever watched someone bleed out, omega? It can take a really long time if you learn exactly where to cut. Of course, this ugly bastard has that ridiculous healing factor, so it might take him days, if it ever works at all. Should we try?”

He forced Wade's head back, pressing the sharp edge to his throat.

“I'll be fine, baby.” Wade repeated firmly, but when he swallowed, the blade caught on his Adam's apple, and a thin ribbon of red appeared. “Look away, Pete.”

“I said enough.”

The mercenary turned in annoyance, ready to order the omega taken from the room but stopped short.

Peter rolled his neck, shifted his weight, and tore the ropes and chair apart when he stood to his feet in one smooth motion. A quick jerk of his wrists and the handcuffs went flying.

“What the shit?” Wade's eyes bugged out and he forgot all about the blade at his throat when his jaw dropped. “Peter what the fuck--”

Peter was already moving, webs shooting from his wrists as he ripped guns away from the guards, running and leaping into the air, wrapping his legs around the biggest guys neck and taking him to the ground. The man struggled for all of fifteen seconds until Peter tightened his legs and jerked hard and the man neck broke with a sickening pop.

A hard kick had another guard denting the wall behind him, his head splitting open, and when a third pulled a knife, Peter actually laughed at him, swiping it out of his hand before plastering the guard to a wall with a pile of webbing over his face and let him hang there, kicking and thrashing and clawing at his face as he slowly suffocated.

Two rushed him at the same time, and with an impossibly fast tuck and roll, Peter ducked under one's legs and used him as a battering ram to slam into the fifth guy. They ended up motionless in a heap on the floor.

“Pete!” Wade yelled when the last guard pulled a pistol and Peter froze, halfway into a crouch, then he just smiled, slowly, eerily, and beckoned towards the guard.

“Come on. Shoot me. Do it. .”

The guard fired, and Peter jerked to the left and raised his eyebrow.

“What the hell? You missed. Try again. I dare you.”

Another shot, and this time Peter bent over backwards, his head nearly grazing the ground as the bullet passed over him. He straightened with a smirk.

“You are the worst at this. Considering your life is on the line maybe you aim a little better huh?”

The henchmen's hand was shaking now and Peter tsked. “You'll never hit me with a shaky hand. My hands though--” he was careening towards the guard, taking him out at the knees and knocking him out cold when his head bounced off the concrete floor. “Always steady. See that?” He waved his hands in front of the unconscious man's face. “Steady as a rock.”

“I'm gonna take his head off, omega.”

Peter's head jerked around when the mercenary spoke, taking in Wade still tied up, the blade drawing blood as it was scraped over his skin.

“You know, Weasel said you were dangerous, but I thought he was exaggerating. Apparently he wasn't.” The man's eyes narrowed hatefully. “What the hell are you? Are you one of Xavier's freaks?”

“I don't know an Xavier.” Peter said, with a smile, and kicked at the guard at his feet, sending him sliding towards the wall. “But I know I'm stronger than you. Faster than you. Better than you.” He stopped smiling and his voice dropped. “So back. The fuck. Away.”

“Or what?” The merc sneered. “If you were serious about killing me you would have broken those ropes right when I walked in. But you didn't. Not even when I hurt this piece of shit. You just sat there. And you know what tells me? Even with all that freaky shit you have going on, you aren't going to kill me. Willing to kill some nameless guards but not the head honcho. All you want is your ugly ass Alpha and to leave peacefully, right? You're one of those mutants that only uses your powers for good? A freak omega for a fucked up Alpha?

“What did you say?” Peter twitched a little and the man just scoffed. “What was that about my Alpha?”

“I said you just want to take this gross looking mother fucker and just--mmmph!!”

Peter shot a web at his mouth to shut him up, then wrapped another around his waist and pulled hard, slamming the man into the ground and dragging him to lay at Peter's feet.

“I don't like when people talk badly about my Alpha.” He said softly so softly that Wade had to strain to hear him. “And I really don't like when people assume that just because I'm an omega I'm helpless or frightened or weak or anyone's bitch.”

The man struggled desperately, and Peter placed his hand on his collarbone and squeezed a little. “Do you know how much pressure it take to snap someone collarbone? Just seven little pounds of pressure. Practically nothing.”

His hand closed into a fist and the mercenary started screaming through the webbing-gag as his collarbone splintered between Peter's fingers. “See how easy that was? Hey hey hey your screaming is really distracting, just be quiet, I'm trying to teach you something.”

He wrapped his slim fingers around the man's throat and rubbed his Adam's apple with his thumb. “They say only about eight pounds to snap a neck. But then I heard that you can crush someone's throat with the same amount of pressure you can use to crush a soda can. Have you heard that?” He was talking softly, almost absentmindedly, staring into the mercenary's eyes. “I crushed a car one time. Punched through the roof to get to someone and the whole thing just folded like an accordion. I could do that to you. But I think I'd rather feel your bones break one by one.”

“Peter no!” Wade shouted. “Don't! Don't kill him. Back off Pete! You cant do this!”

“Try and stop me.” Peter hadn't taken his eyes off the shaking man on the ground. “He tried to kill us, Wade. He blew up our home. Kidnapped us. Hurt you. I'm going to tear him to pieces, then I'm going to find that fucker Weasel and snap his neck. I am tired of people taking what's mine and ruining my life.”

“Peter. We can talk later about all of...this. But you won't be able to keep going if you kill him, baby boy, you won't. You've seen what killing does to me, imagine what it will do to you. Peter, please. Please.” Wade was begging with him, tearing at his ropes trying to get free to drag Peter away. “Come on baby you don't want this.”

“Oh no, I definitely want it. He was going to keep me as a plaything for a week. Did you hear him say that, Wade? Because I definitely did.” Peter bared his teeth in a snarl. “I'm going to kill him with my bare hands for that little comment. I could tear him apart without even breaking a sweat.” He crouched low next to the mercenary who was shaking his head frantically

“You know what the worst thing is about guys like you? You're all jacked on fake hormones and steroids and think it makes you big and bad but the moment the tables turn you're pissing your pants in fear.” Peter stared down at him. “I've spent years putting guys like you behind bars and I think maybe, just maybe, it's time to try something a little different. I think maybe I'll start with you. I think it might take me a week. How's that sound?”

“Look at me, Pete. Omega! Look at me now.” Wade growled the command, pushing as much Alpha as he could into it. He couldn't hear everything Peter was saying but he knew if he couldn't stop things that Peter would kill the guy, and even though it could be justified, it would destroy Peter when he came down and realized what he'd done.

So Wade dropped his voice and projected as much submit, omega, obey into the air as he could and repeated. “Look at me now, Omega.” and it worked. The omega shuddered a little and looked up at him, fingers twitching, eyes a little wild, chest heaving as he tried to regulate his breathing.

“You'll never come back from this moment, Peter.” Wade said firmly. “Not ever. Do not be this person. You're better than this.”

“Wade you killed all those men who came after us. How is this any different?”

“It fucked me up for weeks!” Wade argued. “It nearly cost me you. I'm not gonna let you do it. Get your ass over here, omega. Back the fuck off of him. Those guards… okay you know they had guns and were a danger to you, to us. This guy isn't. All he had was a knife and he doesn't have it any more. Peter this isn't self defense, this is murder and you have to back off now. Come to me right now.”

Peter visibly struggled for a moment, conflicting emotions flashing across his face, but finally he took a step away, and then another, until he was standing in front of his Alpha, nearly vibrating with anger.

“I know.” Wade soothed him. “I know okay? But it's better like this. Better for us. Just um, use some of those shocking muscles and get me out of these, okay? And then we're gonna leave.”

Peter just nodded, and placed a hand on each arm of the chair and gave a quick jerk. The chair, the rope, and both sets of handcuffs split right down the middle and Wade stood to his feet with an impressed grunt, brushing the bits of rope off himself.

“Let's just go, baby. Not worth it alright? Not worth what it will do to you. Let's just go.”

Peter still wasn't talking, waves of angry, frustrated, furious pouring from him so Wade put his hand on the small of his back and steered him towards the door.

“Wilson!” The mercenary on the floor shouted, finally having ripped the webs off his mouth. “This isn't over! You and your freaky omega are dead! You should have let him kill me because I am never gonna--”

Wade reached into his boot and whipped around, a small knife slicing through the air and embedding itself in the man's throat.

A shudder went through Peter's body when the man hit the floor with a thud, and Wade reached out for him, trying to hold him. But Peter slapped his hand away and walked out the door.

Wade couldn't do anything else but follow.

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#spideypool #wade wilson #peter parker #marvel #abo dynamics #alpha wade #omega peter #spiderman #deadpool #violent peter #dark peter

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