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queen-ofsunflowers · 3 years

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DadWorth AU: Part 2 (Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney)

More DadWorth AU! And here we finally get into the details of the games, so the parts that remain the same will be briefly touched upon. This is gonna be longer than the last post, so here we go!

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Turnabout Sisters

Things actually start a bit before the game does, and its with Kay at age fourteen and ready to start high school. (to me her birthday is in December, so she would be fourteen by the time the school year begins). And she has a certain one in mind.

I’ve mentioned before that Kay ends up idolizing Mia and follows her cases. Being surrounded by law for the past couple of years and wanting to help people (because Kay has yet to learn about the true Yatagarasu), Kay decides that she wants to be a defense attorney like Mia as opposed to a prosecutor like her dad and Miles (I am one of few people that I think subscribe to the idea of Defense Attorney!Kay... but that’s where we’re going here.)

Miles hestiates when he learns that Kay “wants to be a lawyer”, but after pressure from both Franziska and Gumshoe, he agrees to the idea. After studying and working hard, Kay ends up getting accepted to Themis Legal Academy in the defense attorney course -- something she hides from Edgeworth because she’s afraid that he’ll disapprove. But this is something that she really wants to do. i have an idea, shhh--

So, Kay’s first day of school just happens to fall on September 6. If anyone recognizes this date, it means Edgeworth is going to be home late, as he almost always is when he’s working on a new case. Because this is where we hit Turnabout Sisters.

Kay’s first day of school goes pretty well. It’s all getting to know you stuff, so it’s gonna be easy. Everyone tries to keep Kay from finding out about the details of Edgeworth’s newest case throughout the course of the day, but this fails because Miles doesn’t know that Kay looks up to Mia. So he gets very much confused when she gets upset upon learning Mia Fey had been murdered when he goes about their usual conversation about his latest case the next morning.

So, she’s upset and Miles has no idea why. On his side, he finds out the defense attorney for this case is Phoenix Wright. So he’s not doing so well because the past is coming back to bite him in the butt, and Kay goes to school feeling like crap. And things only start to get worse from there when two students in the prosecutors’ course decide its a good idea to mess with one of the students in the defense attorney course.

Enter Sebastian Debeste and Klavier Gavin. (i know klavier’s a good guy, but he still needs the character development to happen) They are not the nicest of people when Kay first encounters them. She’s down, and they decide its a good time to kick her while she’s down.

She confides in this to Ema, who gets super mad about this. She knows that she needs to tell an adult about it, so she somehow manages to tell Gumshoe about this (how they know each other, i’m not sure, probably happened after she met Kay.) And then Gumshoe goes to Miles while they’re investigating the next day and tells him that Kay’s been having a tough time adjusting (Ema had left out the bullying bit, since Kay had made her promise not to tell, thinking it would make things worse.)

Miles takes things into consideration a little bit (he’s too focused on his case), and promises to pick Kay up from school the next day if Gumshoe drops her off (an idea that came up from Gumshoe mentioning it would be a good idea to have someone she trusts there after a bad day.)

The date is September 9, Gumshoe drops Kay off at school as planned while Edgeworth goes to trial. And everything for both of them goes downhill from there. Edgeworth gets his ass handed to him by Phoenix and gets his first loss. Kay’s bullying continues. Too absorbed in his loss and the repercussions of it, Miles forgets about Kay entirely. Kay’s left outside of Themis, heartbroken and her trust in Miles barely even remains. After about an hour or so, she calls Badd to come and get her since she knows he’ll always be there if she needs him.

Miles hears Kay come home, and gets confused when she runs past him and up to her room. Badd explains everything and how Miles is an idiot.

So, Badd’s pissed at Edgeworth. Gumshoe gets mad at Miles when he finds out about what happened with Kay. von Karma is pissed at Edgeworth for losing at case to a rookie of all things. Kay’s upset with him because of what happened. Franziska’s mad at him on both fronts. The media is having a field day with his record being broken. It’s the second worst day of his life.

Turnabout Samurai

So, time goes on since the horrible, no-good very bad day. Miles is trying to deal with everything and everyone being mad at him. He’s becoming emotionally unavailable and Kay’s not helping at all since she’s pulled away from him. Since he forgot about her, she thinks he doesn’t care about her anymore. She just stays out of his way.

Miles is emotionally out of the window and does just what he needs to do to keep Kay happy or so he thinks. He’s too absorbed in his work and stressed out from his previous loss to try and reverse the damage caused to his reputation. Meanwhile, Kay’s bullying at Klavier’s and Sebastian’s hands continues. She doesn’t know what to do about it (even though Ema continually tells her to tell someone, Kay doesn’t want to make things worse.)

Things come to a head for her right around the same time that Edgeworth gets assigned the Steel Samurai case against Phoenix Wright. Kay’s absolutely done with Sebastian’s and Klavier’s treatment of her and remembering Ema’s words, she acts.

Kay ends up punching Klavier in the face when he pushes her over the edge, much to everyone’s surprise. They both get dragged down to the office by a teacher after the fight escalates a little (if it even can be called that, only physical blows traded was Kay’s punch.)

They’re in trouble, they start arguing over who started it, etc. The teacher (who I should note is Courte) puts an end to it, believing that they are both to blame for what happened -- Kay for retaliating the way she did and Klavier for antagonizing her in the first place. With the principal’s agreement, both of them are sent home for the day after their guardians are called.

For Kay, she immediately gets called back by Edgeworth while waiting. Edgeworth is in the middle of the Steel Samurai case, so he can’t do anything. He actually grows irritated over what Kay did, not listening to her explanation over what happened and only saying that they’ll talk about it when he gets home. Kay tries to find someone else who

Meanwhile, Courte takes Klavier aside and tries to find out what happened to cause the whole mess in the first place. Something got into his head that this was how it was supposed to be with defense attorneys and prosecutors (what this is or who that was that planted it is up for debate). He’s told that he’s wrong. They’re both on the same sides of the law, and they’re both there to find the truth -- not to fight about it until there’s a victor. They are allies. Not enemies.

And then Klavier comes back and overhears Kay’s conversation with Edgeworth with Courte’s words echoing in the back of his mind. Klavier’s just like... “okay, she may be a defense attorney, but i don’t think she’s that different from me at all”. Kristoph is a terrible guardian, but the only one that can take care of Klavier, and he understands a bit of what Kay is going through right now because of that.

And immediately feels like shit for how he treated her prior. So when Kay goes to apologize to him from ya know... punching him, it’s him that starts apologizing. And after a very, very long conversation, they decide to start over and Klavier invites Kay to eat lunch with him and Sebastian the next day and even offers to see if he can get her a ride home. Kay reluctantly agrees.

And so their friendship starts there.

It takes Sebastian a bit longer to warm up to Kay like Klavier has, but eventually takes to her when she doesn’t hesitate to point out the mistakes he makes. She corrects him without missing a beat. Kay’s not hesitant to call him out on bullshit when needed. As a result, Sebastian’s a bit smarter than compared to canon.

So, the chaotic duo of Ema and Kay grows to include Klavier and Sebastian. (ema has no reason to hate klavier yet, that’s not until phoenix is disbarred if my theory is right, but his attitude does tick her off sometimes).

Things are starting to get better for Kay, that’s for sure. Miles, on the other hand... not so much.

We all know what happens with him. Unnecessary feelings, questioning just about everything that you know and who you are, etc. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Kay, who wants to try and do something to help. What that is, though, she doesn’t know yet.

Turnabout Goodbyes

Winter break is coming up, and it’s pretty clear at this point that Sebastian and Klavier (the latter moreso than the former) are in tight with Kay and Ema. Kay wants to do something to fix her relationship with Edgeworth, leading to a suggestion of being honest with him about how she feels. If he listens (unlike their guardians), then that means things could turn around.

Kay declines this idea as the first thing they decide Kay should do is tell Edgeworth that she’s in the defense course. She’s still wary about what he might say or do if he finds out she’s going to be a defense attorney rather than the prosecutor he thinks. She does, eventually, agree to talk to him about how she feels. Confessing to being in defense does still linger in the back of her mind.

Christmas starts to draw nearer and nearer, and the two usually spend it together (a tradition born from the first one they had. As bad as that time of year is for Miles, he tries to not let it show for Kay’s sake. Kay doesn’t know about DL-6 and he wants to keep her as far away from it as possible.) So Kay is confused when he heads out Christmas Eve.

Kay has no idea who to turn to... except for one person. So, Christmas morning, while Gumshoe does his best when it comes to figuring out the truth with the investigation, Kay runs all the way down to Wright & Co. Law Offices. (Edgeworth had talked about Wright before in conversations that Kay overheard. That, and it was talked about that he was the only one who managed to take down Edgeworth at school.)

This is the first time that Kay meets Phoenix face-to-face, so he’s pretty confused about as to why a teenager is banging down his door on Christmas asking for help. But, he’s not someone whose going to say no, so he and Maya head down to the detention center with Kay.

Imagine their shock when they learn that the person Kay was talking about is Miles Edgeworth. Who immediately turns around and refuses their help. At all. Because he wants them as far away from this as possible.

Phoenix and Maya leave with Kay, and two out of three are not about to give up so easily. So, yeah. Kay’s finally part of the main storyline.

She helps Phoenix and Maya on their investigation and in the process does learn about DL-6. And her heart just breaks when she learns that her guardian went through all of this. Which is why Kay is relieved when Miles finally

In the meantime, Phoenix and Maya are trying to figure out what Kay’s connection to Edgeworth is since neither of them explained. And all they can get Gumshoe to say is that Kay is someone that knows Miles rather well. (something that’s supported with Kay knowing about Edgeworth’s fear of earthquakes.)

Kay’s in the audience during this case, primarily because Miles expresses that he doesn’t want her anywhere near von Karma (especially for something that would technically be her first trial). But she’s also not going to leave, so she just watches. Kay gets excited when Phoenix starts tearing von Karma’s case apart. (at this point, Kay only vaguely knows von Karma from Reminiscence. She knows that he’s Miles’s mentor and nothing more than that.)

She helps with the DL-6 investigation. The one thing I should note surprises her the most about it is the date which it takes place. Added angst for this whole case (primarily comes from my headcanon birthday for Kay) -- It’s revealed that Miles was careful on December 28th to not let Kay know what was going on with him since it was also her birthday.

Kay has only known Larry for two days, and he’s already giving her a headache (and making her question how Miles and Phoenix are friends with him a little bit). But she’s super excited that he was able to help in the end. She also finds the story about the class trial super sweet, remarking how it reminds her about how Edgeworth used to be like when they first met.

She ultimately is incredibly worried about Miles as the case goes on. Especially with how he thinks that he killed his father. The man Kay knows would never do that -- even on accident. She wants to help as much as possible, even if she can’t stand with the defense. She also wants to stick it to von Karma after everything he’s done. Especially after the confrontation in the evidence room, where Kay lets loose more information than she should, so von Karma (along with Maya and Phoenix) end up finding out about Kay’s relation to Miles.

Phoenix asks her about this later, and Kay explains everything. She begs him to get Miles a Not Guilty verdict since she doesn’t want to lose yet another father of hers. He promises her that he’ll try.

So we get to the final trial day. Kay thinks that Phoenix calling the parrot as a witness is one of the most hilarious things ever later on, but in the moment, she thinks he’s gone crazy, but it works. Miles is declared innocent and she couldn’t be happier... until he flips the switch and confesses to DL-6 after von Karma brings up

Kay gets so mad and upset about this. She corners him in the defendant’s lobby, which is not a pleasant conversation. She knows that Miles is innocent. They’ve been fighting this whole time and he’s just willing to give up that easily? Kay feels like she’s being left behind all over again. She doesn’t understand why Miles won’t “believe in me, who believe in you”. And she storms out. So there’s a bit more guilt on Miles’s shoulders, and a small bit of incentive for him to actually get a not guilty.

So, it cuts to Kay in the hallway making her way back to the gallery. She’s relaying to what’s going on to her friends over a text conversation (understandably, they’re all pissed) when she bumps into someone on her way back.

Yeah... Kay runs into von Karma again. And knowing what she does about him, Kay’s just fucking pissed. There’s a confrontation between the two where Kay comes to understand why Miles is so afraid of this man. He puts an immense amount of fear into her. She just wants to get away.

Kay hits his shoulder by accident in the process and notices the amount of pain it causes him after she runs off. So, long story short, Kay manages to figure out where the second bullet is before Phoenix does, and the trial concludes similar to how it does in canon, but with Kay’s intervention. She’s beyond relieved that Miles is free and von Karma is arrested.

She also feels horrible about yelling, and decides to take her friends’ advice to heart. She almost lost Miles once, and if that ever happens again, she wants him to know the whole truth.

The first thing Kay does after Miles is declared innocent is confess everything to Miles. She’s stammering and nervous and is barely through it when Miles cuts her off because he already knows Kay’s studying to be a defense attorney. She’s not as slick as she thinks, Gumshoe had mentioned multiple times that Phoenix could be someone Kay could learn a lot from, etc. That, and he is Kay’s guardian. He keeps in contact with the school.

He’s not disappointed in her either, which is the one fear that Kay had. He understands not following in your father’s footsteps. If it makes her happy, then that’s fine with him. He is surprised that she finally told him the truth, though. Kay promises not to keep anymore secrets from him. She wants to trust him again.

Things end well between them... as well as they could be after that whole mess, but their relationship is steadily on the mend and all is right with the world.

...until February.

Rise From the Ashes

IF YOU ALL REMEMBER SOMETHING THAT I MENTIONED IN PART 1, THEN YOU KNOW THAT THIS CASE IS GOING TO GET WORSE FOR ONE MILES EDGEWORTH THAN IT ALREADY IS.

Kay gets dragged into this one by Ema when she comes by in tears over Lana getting arrested. Kay mentions what happened back in December and says that Phoenix might be able to help, so Ema drags her down there. Phoenix is responsible for two teenagers rather than one. Again.

let’s just pretend that they don’t have school for whatever reason

Not much changes other than Kay’s involvement in SL-9. People keep bringing up the fact that Ema was not alone. And Kay’s thief skills starting to show up a little bit. Again, she won’t discover the truth about the Yatagarasu until later down the line.

She also wants to kick Gant in the shin more and more as the case progresses.

When it gets to the point where they find out that Miles is going to resign,

It’s only during the last day of the trial that Phoenix (and by extension, everyone else but Maya) finds out about Miles’s connection to Kay when he brings up the fact that there was another witness present when Ema was attacked. And Miles isn’t able to hide who it is any longer.

So, Kay has to testify. And it’s not fun. It all ends with her asking them to leave Edgeworth alone, since he didn’t do anything wrong (or he didn’t know that he was doing anything wrong -- something that is later provable.) So, this case is full of family feels, and Phoenix feels like shit for having to do this.

But in the end, Kay’s memory is a bit more clearer than Ema’s, which leads to Gant’s arrest being a bit easier. Ema still leaves the country to study forensics in Europe, and there’s a tearful goodbye and promises to stay in touch between her and her friends. But the impact that the case leaves on Edgeworth does not change. He feels like he isn’t fit anymore -- as a prosecutor or as a guardian for Kay since he couldn’t protect her.

So, the night of February 25, Kay’s woken up in the middle of the night by Miles. She’s half-asleep, and really doesn’t understand what he’s saying at the moment. He’s saying that he has to leave for a while, and tells her that he cares about her. She’s just like “okay” and ends up falling back asleep.

The next morning, Kay wakes up and the house is just about empty. She can’t find Miles anywhere. She just thinks that he’s busy with a new case that needed him in the office early, or they needed him to help clear up what happened yesterday or something, so she doesn’t think much of it.

That is until Gumshoe picks her up from school early. He never does this. No one really does this without warning, like if its a doctor’s or dentist appointment or something.

Her entire world falls apart when he tells her about the note that they found on Edgeworth’s desk that morning.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death.

And that ends Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney. Kay doesn’t interact with the story all that much, but we already have Egdeworth’s perspective on the game for the most part. A lot of this takes place from Kay’s POV... including Justice for All. Which I have some... interesting things in mind for.

#ace attorney #ace attorney au #miles edgeworth #kay faraday #ema skye #phoenix wright #maya fey #dick gumshoe #klavier gavin #sebastian debeste #manfred von karma #queen speaks #dadworth au #kay edgeworth au

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rvmmm21 · 3 years

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. you’re gonna spaghet it .

summary : a home-cooked meal and a baking show is too much to ask for. but only when the person asking is seungwan.

small note : i'm tentatively back. and here's the worse news. you get this pile of 'what-the-fic-is-this?!' before i start clonking you over the head with my leg of yandere ham.

think of it as your pre-christmas coal in your stocking.

(this sat in my drafts for so long its not even funny. if i had a cent for every second i spent thinking about whether i wanted this out here, i'd have accumulated enough for the plane ticket, the lawyers and the hospital fees to fly over to SM to clonk them myself.)

just for tumblr. if you want to read this but in pretty, it’s here.

tw : tickling, probably many grammar errors because i do not know how to write anymore, and my cretinous knowledge of how tv recordings work.

[irene x white-winged dove!wendy]

. . .

[6:15pm] A mischievous smile tugs at her lips when she sees how Seungwan struggles.

. . .

Bae Joohyun blithely watches her girlfriend titter around the kitchen preparing vegetables for the chopping board. When the sound of water beginning to boil reaches attentive ears, she secretly smiles at the melodious hum of a happy tune.

Everything is going as planned!

However.

Pangs of guilt are beginning to tweak at Joohyun’s conscience. Because what she really wants to do is not to be a good girlfriend and offer a hand at stirring the pot. She doesn’t even want to sit patiently and wait to hear Seungwan sing out for her when dinner’s ready.

No. Joohyun wants to play. And she knows who she wants to play with. Even though it’s going to be a complete setback to the lovely night she’s sure her Wannie has planned out for them.

It was Seungwan’s idea to cook tonight, then eat together while they watch their favourite TV program. Pfft, ‘their favourite’. What Joohyun really means is she’ll happily watch the season finale of the unorthodox cooking show her girlfriend is currently obsessed with.

. . .

“It gives me ideas, unnie,” Seungwan had explained when, about a week ago, Joohyun had walked in on a very experimental game of muffin-making.

The latest episode of “Baking for the Seoul” flashed through Joohyun’s memory.

“Don’t the ingredients have to be… in the bowl, though?” she asked incredulously, eyes searching for any part of their countertop that was actually visible.

“Hm?” Seungwan looked up, wiping the frosting off her nose… with the wrong hand.

Joohyun raised an eyebrow. “And which one are we putting in the oven, your sludge mix or you?” She inquired, now searching for any part of her girlfriend’s face – that was actually visible.

When the girl in question stayed concentrated, apprehension bubbled in her gut at the state of that exceptionally thick bowl of frosting. She surreptitiously strained to peer behind a thoroughly battered Seungwan, trying her hardest to not actually step foot into the kitchen.

Her girlfriend has this… ‘thing’ about work space. Especially the kitchen.

“Wan-ah,” Joohyun’s tone was equal parts warning and concern. “You didn’t get any on your wings, did you… that frosting looks too thick and last time you got yourself all mucky, remember we had to – ”

“It’s fine it’s fine, look! I’m being careful!” Seungwan quipped cheerfully, pirouetting round to give a worried Joohyun a glimpse of her wings which were nicely folded through each designated slit in the back of her sky-blue jumper.

The latter breathed a sigh of relief when she saw them; all white, fluffy and – most importantly – clean. She inwardly shuddered at how much of a nightmare that bath was. Thank god she’s behaving this time, she thought.

Although momentary relief didn’t stop her from contemplating an alternative method of keeping her mind at ease.

But the thought of having Seungwan wear her wing guards in their own home tugged at her unpleasantly. It was bad enough she had to have them on when they were out in potentially stressful situations. So she wouldn’t accidentally hurt herself or anyone around her… which had unfortunately happened once or twice before. It was clearly a burden to go about so obviously restricted, and despite Seungwan’s insistence on having grown used to them, Joohyun could always feel how upset she’d get whenever she was helping to do the clasps up behind her.

Definitely no wing guards then. And if that meant Joohyun would be bruising her knees for hours on end trying to keep dense baking mix and her messy baby bird two separate entities, then she’d happily do it.

Whatever kept Seungwan chirping.

Plus, her little chef looked damned determined, so she thought it appropriate to slip in one last passing remark before plucking a banana from the rack. “Yah, Wannie! Let me know if I’m gonna have to pick out birdie feathers from my cupcakes, okay?”

Seungwan grumbled something along the lines of a ‘hm, yeah whatever unnie’ in response.

Joohyun just laughed, heading back to their room and leaving the mastermind to her latest trial.

> > > > >

[7:00 p.m] Seungwan doesn't know which she finds more horrifying: what Joohyun intends to do to her or the fact that they're going to have to have take-away two nights in a row.

. . .

It should’ve been a simple mission.

Retrieve a fresh packet of spaghetti from the topmost shelf.

Her attempts are… laughable. She’s clearly doing her best.

Though she doesn't realise it yet, she’s still being watched. From the living room, Joohyun is watching. And she isn’t laughing. Hands ball into unconscious fists as a tight wave of numbness washes over her at how adorable Seungwan looks.

Just… like that: both wings tucked against her back, beautiful and neat as their owner. Strained muscles from reaching for something Joohyun already knows she’s going to have to help out with. And the tiny grunts when fingertips barely graze the edges of the packet.

Seungwan looks so soft, so frustrated. So vulnerable.

A small spike of inexplicable adrenaline leads Joohyun to head over to the huffing, moon-hopping girl.

She really needs to teach her little dove that being this cute comes with a price.

. . .

When a lithe body slides up behind her and presses against her back, Seungwan’s wings give a gentle flutter to mimic the stutter in her heart. She sighs affectionately at the pair of hands resting low on her hips.

The task is almost forgotten. Almost.

Unnie’s here to help, Seungwan thinks… ever so mistakenly.

“Hyun – ahh,” she’s interrupted by a slight shiver when the tip of her right wing is stroked between a finger and a thumb, delicately running across pure, downy feathers. A tried and tested (Bae Joohyun-certified) method of getting the girl absolutely weak.

Judging by the sound of strained breaths filling the space between them, it’s working.

Alas, dinner hasn’t been cooked, the sun’s setting and Seungwan’s time-management brain is screaming at her to get a move on. She points to the shelf, trying her hardest to block out the dangerously wonderful feeling. “Could you – could you please get that for me?”

Instead of complying, Joohyun chuckles, moving her hands from her back to glide them lightly up and down her sides. She isn’t surprised that Seungwan is already shivering, terribly overwhelmed from that alone.

Her smirk twitches when she feels the smaller girl squirm.

Seungwan has always been like this… so responsive, so susceptible to touch. Her touch. She’s jelly in her clutches, and even Joohyun has to admit that sometimes she really doesn’t deserve to be.

Sneaky hands grow bolder, finding their way under the hem of Seungwan’s fleecy jumper to continue tracing teasing lines against soft, sensitive skin.

“But it’s so cute to watch you struggle, baby,” Joohyun coos, beginning to rest more of her weight into Seungwan’s hips, keeping her trapped against the kitchen counter.

“U-unnie,” Seungwan tries, half-heartedly writhing against Joohyun’s hold, torn between wanting to cook dinner and wanting to be dinner. “Not – ah… not right now… it’s already late, we have to – ”

“And you smell so nice. Is this new shampoo?” Joohyun presses her nose into her nape, cutting her short, nuzzling into that pleasant fruity shampoo scent. She then pauses to nudge Seungwan’s legs suggestively ajar with her knee before leaning in to whisper into a ruby-tipped ear. “ Should I give you a reason to shower again later, hm?”

The younger’s eyes widen at the sinful implication.

Gosh, really? Right now? In the kitchen?

The kitchen. The place she cooks and handles food? (Sure, Joohyun will – once in a blue moon – dice the odd carrot or something, but that certainly does not give her the right to be making any unauthorised, hormonal messes for her to clean up). She must be off her rocker if she thinks Seungwan’s going to allow her precious workstation to be tainted by what she can already foresee to be copious amounts of bodily fluid just because someone can’t keep it in their pants.

It snaps something inside her. And – with all the strength neither of them knew she possessed – Seungwan wrenches out from under Joohyun’s weight with a firm “YAH! Stop fooling around!”, sending the older woman stumbling a few steps back.

For a second, they’re just as stunned and disbelieving as each other; Seungwan at her own apprently dormant Herculean strength –

– and Joohyun at the sheer audacity.

Then again, could this be any more timely?

God, Joohyun could kiss herself.

She straightens her blouse, putting on her best ‘I-can’t-believe-you’ve-done-this’ expression, and turning to lock the now slightly (and rightfully so) terrified-looking Seungwan with a stare. This is the best part. The part where she just glares, secretly gleeful as the other girl absolutely crumbles with apprehension.

The part where Seungwan thinks it’s her fault.

“Uh oh,” she tuts, sporting a grin to match that mischievous glint in her eyes, “someone’s in trouble, aren’t they?”

Seungwan is, of course, at a total loss for words, but she fumbles around anyway, desperate to justify whatever the hell she’s just done. It’s almost too much for Joohyun to handle, watching her dig her own grave like this.

Finally, Seungwan tries to back up, only to let out a sharp gasp when she trips over her own feet in her haste. She’s on the floor in seconds with Joohyun immediately following. There’s hardly a chance for her to get her bearings before she’s stuck on her back with a weight straddling her hips.

Seungwan goes wide-eyed. She might as well kiss the prospect of a candlelit dinner bye-bye… for tonight, at least.

“My clumsy, clumsy Wannie,” Joohyun mocks, holding herself above the smaller girl on her hands and purposely tangling their legs together. “Tonight was very thoughtful of you, baby, but I’m postponing our dinner plans to tomorrow night. I think we should order in, don’t you?”

“Ah unnie...” Seungwan groans, failing to ignore the way Joohyun’s predatory expression crayons her cheeks a soft pink, “we had take-away last night! I don’t wanna eat chicken aga – ”

“Then let’s get pizza,” Joohyun offers unhelpfully. She’s clearly got her own agenda that she’s determined to follow through with. “Okay? Hm, let’s see… you have to the count of five to agree with me or…”

She pauses to savour the panic in those deep brown eyes. “I’m going to have a very tired little birdie to take care of.”

That satisfied smirk leaves nothing to the imagination. Seungwan can practically read her fate on her girlfriend's rosy lips before they delve into hers, causing her eyes to roll back as they melt hotly into each other.

Seungwan hardly notices Joohyun lacing their fingers together until her eyes flutter open and she finds herself held down, arms stretched securely above her head. Joohyun adjusts her grip so she has both wrists pinned under one hand and the other free.

Ah, fuck, not again. Seungwan laughs emptily, fidgeting with high-strung premonition. When her one final struggle proves useless, she resorts to asserting herself with her voice. “Yah, unnie, I’m cooking tonight. Stop being annoying or you’re not getting fed.”

Ah, too easy.

Joohyun contemplates elaborating further. But she’s said enough. Besides, Seungwan doesn’t even deserve a response to that. That was a threat, wasn’t it? The prospect of starvation is a serious threat that should be promptly dealt with. And what do you do when you’re faced with a threat? Be that a burglar, a murderer or a very flustered Son Seungwan.

Tickle them. Obviously.

Joohyun leers over her, wiggling her fingers in anticipation. “Five…”

Seungwan’s eyes blow wide, and – with miserable luck – she renews her efforts at breaking free once again. “Hyun! Seriously?! You – I can’t believe you’re d – ”

“Four.”

“HYUN!”

“Three.”

“Okay! Okay! Let’s get pizza tonight! There, happy?! You can even choose the flav – ”

Seungwan hears a scoff above her. “Nope. Sorry Wannie. I made that decision. You’ve changed nothing.”

“YAH, YOU TRICKED ME YOU BIRDBRAIN! LET ME UP. YOU’RE SO DEAD!!”

One click of a tongue and Seungwan has never retracted any statement faster in her life.

“Okayokayokay! Sorry that was super mean! Please I – ”

“Two…”

Too late. She’s dead. She’s one hundred percent about to be on the list of the unfairly deceased.

Seungwan whines hopelessly. “Unnieeeee, you’re not being fair!”

It’s a ditch attempt, but one Seungwan doesn’t intend to miss. “OKAY SERIOUSLY I MEAN IT, GET OFF!”

Joohyun snickers. “One.”

With five fingers and wicked intent, she dives in.

. . .

A pair of pretty wings and an even prettier face make for an impossible choosing.

Even now, as she has Seungwan flat on her back with her eyes screwed shut and tears streaming down her face, she wants to flip her over so she can be blinded by white insulation. So those feathers can brush against her as she drives their owner to the brink of sanity.

She wants to feel her dove respond to what she does to her.

“Hyu – Hyun, p-please!”

Joohyun smirks down at her victim, who’s weakly pawing at the front of her blouse in what she can only assume is an attempt to get her to stop.

Pathetic.

Seungwan never fails to struggle. But then again, she never fails to forget that Joohyun, too, is much, much stronger than she looks.

All that tiresome squirming is easily dealt with. Only a fraction more pressure from Joohyun’s fingertips, and Seungwan’s arms fall to either side, limp and useless just like the rest of her. The only indication she’s even conscious is the violent trembling and – when she’s able to muster up the lung space – the occasional plea for mercy.

Even the laughter is silent.

Joohyun loves it this way. She loves having Seungwan all sweaty and flustered beyond belief; whenever and wherever she pleases, the younger girl is reduced to a quivering mess, trapped beneath her cruel dexterity.

So instead of getting the pasta boiling for a romantic dinner, Seungwan is graciously letting Joohyun have her one-sided fun while she’s forced to cough, splutter and laugh so hard her insides hurt. The reflex to try to buck Joohyun off or twist out of her clutches nips at her incessantly.

Although she really shouldn’t worm around like that, because it’s only making Joohyun’s job easier with how her jumper rides further and further up with every inch she wriggles away.

It almost makes Joohyun think her little songbird wants to be tickled.

“Aw,” she coos, playfully tweaking unintentionally exposed ribs. “So cute, Wannie. You want it here, too?”

Seungwan is breathless from the tickles before she’s even processed what Joohyun’s said. Those tantalising touches never linger on any part of her long enough for her to develop a resistance to them. Not that she could even if she tried. She’s as sensitive as Joohyun is skilled. And Joohyun strikes with dreadful precision, switching between light skittering and then deftly kneading her fingers into every spot that wrings Seungwan’s lungs for all they’re worth.

The smooth tile is cooling against her feathers, even if her wings are twitching beyond her control, trying their hardest to flip her over to give her some shot at escaping. She barely manages to crawl a few inches away before there’s a firm grip on her ankle, all but dragging her back because Joohyun sure as hell isn’t done with her that quickly.

Trying to get away? She cocks an eyebrow, scooting up to sit on Seungwan’s butt, pinning her hips to the floor.

“Oh no, my poor birdie’s flipped herself over,” she feigns concern, gently resting her palms on Seungwan’s wings, stilling their fluttering and holding them steady. The sight of them unfolded, outstretched from the struggle and completely exposed has Joohyun catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Did you hurt yourself here, Wannie? You need unnie to kiss it better?”

Seungwan shrieks at a pitch that’d have every dog in the neighbourhood cowering when she feels a pair of pillowy lips settle on that excruciating spot right where the arch of her wings meet her back, where she absolutely cannot stand to be touched.

Even under normal circumstances, Seungwan had made her swear to never spring upon her like that. And of course, by virtue of that alone, it quickly became one of Joohyun’s favourite places to touch her.

Luckily she’s too distracted now to protest.

The ‘kisses’ aren’t any less torturous than ten fingers going all at once.

Poor, tired Seungwan hardly has the energy to writhe as Joohyun continues to press her hellish butterfly kisses all along the length of those oversensitive appendages, nosing into her feathers and ruffling them gently with her breath. The younger’s expression contorts into silent agony when she feels the fingers return, this time digging into her armpits.

Fresh tears well up in the corners of her eyes as she lays there, flailing like a fish out of water, face down with zero leverage to combat her girlfriend’s merciless onslaught.

She’s as defenceless as a turtle on its back (or rather, a dove on its tummy). Her squirms are getting weaker, the laughter more strained, but it’s all so rewarding to her loving tormentor.

Seungwan is kept laughing till the hollow ring of the doorbell sounds through their apartment.

. . .

[An hour post stuffed crust pepperoni pizza with extra cheese]

Joohyun enters their room just as her girlfriend is getting dressed for bed, freshly showered… again. She lets out a low chuckle when Seungwan catches sight of her in her peripheral vision and hastily pulls the loose necked pajama t-shirt over her head.

“How was dinner?” she asks, arms folded and leaning against the door.

Seungwan rolls her eyes and releases her hair from its bun. “Too much cheese. We need to drink lots of water tonight or we’ll be pufferfish in the morning.”

“Aw, is someone grumpy?” Joohyun gives an uncharacteristically exaggerated pout and the latter hides a shiver.

Good god, please someone save her.

“Unnie, of course I am. We’re going to eat reheated carbonara sauce tomorrow no thanks to you,” Seungwan bluntly retaliates. “You’ve had your fun, now can you stop talking to me like I’m five, please?”

Naturally, her request falls on selectively deafened ears.

“Yah, seriously,” she punctuates the severity by manually unfolding her trembling left wing and pointing at it. “Look. I’m still shaking because of you. Now you're done, I really – ”

That’s all the grumpy talk she’s allowed before Joohyun jump-tackles her onto their bed, pinning her to it and watching sheer panic etch into deep cinnamon irises.

“When did I say I was done?” she asks, suggestiveness tracing the edges of her tone. She hovers above her, bringing a hand up to cup her face.

Seungwan hisses a laugh. “Unnie, I have a limit too, you know. You can’t just keep finding excuses to tickle the crap out of – ”

She chokes on a gasp when she feels a hand – the one she’d been as good as tortured under not two hours ago – trailing down her stomach… slipping past the elastic of her panties and –

– it just reminds her why she’ll always let Joohyun have her fun.

Because no matter how much she laughs, screams, cries or begs, there’s always a reward. Much sweeter than anything Seungwan thinks she could ever bake. Their sex life is anything but stagnant, however this is, more often than not, Joohyun’s way of making it up to her afterwards (much to her approval).

Or maybe she just wants to drive Seungwan to the brink of losing her voice so she won't have to hear the nagging about the next episode of Baking For the Seoul.

Which, by the way, came out tonight. And Joohyun made them miss it. She had better be praying they’d be able to find a copy online somewhere.

Either way, it’s so much more gratifying after an eternity spent howling your lungs out on the floor. Seungwan’s full attention is lasered down to where Joohyun is now softly caressing her under the thin cotton barrier. The warm ache beginning to settle in between her thighs prompts her to try to squeeze them together, but Joohyun catches on and wedges her knees in between them, spreading her even further.

“Ah,” she raises a smug brow as she leans in to press her lips to the base of her ear. Her own eyes darken with lust in response to her little dove writhing helplessly below her. “Be a good girl for me, okay, baby?”

It’s late. Seungwan can barely keep her eyes open. Oh, but she aches so badly.

“Still grumpy, hm?” Joohyun murmurs questioningly, hot breath fanning over Seungwan’s neck and echoing goosebumps over her skin. She glances down at the bulge of her hand stretching the fabric, fingers already coated in slick. Her index finger rubs against Seungwan’s clit. “Feel good, Wannie?”

Hopelessly turned on, it’s all the other girl can do to whimper in agreement.

The pleasing sound of those soft whines escaping right into her ear turns Joohyun’s grin into something downright wolfish. She gives the swollen bud a few more leisurely strokes before retracting her hand completely, leaving Seungwan squirming in anticipation with whatever energy she has left.

Joohyun tastes the arousal on her fingertips. “Mm, I love how small you look right now, in my hands. So small and needy.”

Seungwan pants out a quiet “please, unnie”, clasping a shuddering hand over Joohyun’s and guiding it back down to the heat in her panties. She rolls her hips up into her palm, silently begging for her reward for being such a ‘willing’ participant in the one-sided games they played today.

After letting her gaze linger for a second, Joohyun shifts so she’s lying next to Seungwan. She slips her hand back in and squeezes firmly, revelling in the hoarseness of the girl’s voice. Velvety lips delicately map out her shoulder, and Seungwan has to fight to keep her eyes open to drink in the image of Joohyun pressed up against her, right hand cradled under her neck, propping her head up so they can both see the other one teasing her down her underwear.

It’s when Seungwan turns away to frustratedly pout at the suspense that Joohyun smiles and gives her a quick peck on the nose.

“I’ll continue if you promise not to pass out this time, okay baby bird?”

She bites back a snort watching Seungwan nod like she’s ever been able to stay awake after.

Then she has to bite back another because since when has she ever not continued even after being fed these empty promises, time and time again.

Anything to keep her precious Seungwan happy.

#red velvet #wenrene #wendy #irene #wing kinks are only valid if you exploit the crap out of them #so irene's got the right idea

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the-darklings · 5 years

Text

—𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆);

pairing: quentin beck x f!reader

word count: 9k+ (i’m a clown, don’t look at me)

summary: "He will be the death of you. He will love you to ruin.”

warnings: manipulation (of other people), love/hate-rivals relationship, swearing, questionable morality.

notes: Y’all this took me seven years but we’re finally here. Enjoy!

“unbecoming” mini-series: | 01 | . .

“It won’t work.”

“How do you know, you haven’t even tested it?”

“Your theory is sound but the application—”

Your fingers squeezed tightly around the stress ball in your hand, and you cast a dark look his way. Beck stood stiff and tense next to the whiteboard, listening to you intently as he held a black marker clenched between his fingers. He looked more dishevelled than usual. You would be surprised if either of you got more than a few hours of sleep last night. The prototype had as good as taken over your life—your life now melting into one rhythmic beat of trying to get this project ready for the demo.

Time was not on your side. Your aim was to get the lead project right out of the gate, and you couldn’t waste time on petty arguments with him. When he actually listened, you bounced off each other with near frightening ease, coming leaps and bounds in the last two weeks alone. Still, the prototype was nowhere near ready because you could not hold a stable image for longer than two minutes. Not to mention a mountain of other weaknesses and instabilities plaguing it.

You both knew that the problem was in the algorithm used to project the image outwards. Beck had been working on making it more stable for months now. While illusion tech was not your area of expertise, you offered more of a critical assessor role, questioning and throwing ideas right and left to see if anything would stick.

He hated it. But he loved it too.

It was impossible to escape the thrill of that sticky web of pure creation and problem-solving. The more you drilled him, the harder he reworked the technology, the more precise his calculations became. Together, you have effectively rewritten half of the base code used to project the holographic illusions in the last week alone. The image was twice as clear now.

Often, he may have given you guarded, burning looks, but your mutual dislike for one another didn’t stop you from working unsettlingly well together.

He still won’t allow you near enough though.

“We have to try and apply it then,” you told him curtly, throwing the red stress ball with Stark Industries logo on it in the air. “Ultimately keeping it static will not work. It needs to be able to adapt to the subject’s perception and vision. That’s only if you want to take it to the next level though.”

“But,” Daniel’s voice broke carefully into what was previously an “intellectual argument” between you and Beck only. “If we don’t even have the prototype working, should we really be concerning ourselves with the next level?”

“Future visualisation,” Beck replied sharply, just a hint of condescending bleeding through his words, “Is key to the success of any project. It often inspires and unlocks different routes to achieve the end result. It’s less about adding pressure on yourself and more about finding effective ways to make the end product better. You have to have vision if you want to succeed.”

Daniel fell silent after hearing that, and Victoria’s eyes narrowed, her pen stilling against the notebook where she was making notes on your brainstorming session.

“What if we change the perception angle for the subject?” Daniel suggested after a moment, glancing your way.

“No,” you and Beck both shot back without missing a beat, sharing a brief look between yourselves.

Noting Daniel’s startled expression, you allowed your features to soften, adapting a milder, more soothing tone, “The problem with that,” you began kindly, catching his gaze. “Is that altered perception would tip the subject off right away. Ever gotten that little tingle at the back of your mind when looking at an optical illusion? That’s because your optic nerves are relaying a visual that does not compute in your brain. You can’t explain it but you know it’s wrong, and then your mind starts working overtime trying to pinpoint exactly what the problem is. Once that happens, you’re a goner because the immersion is gone. For now, we need immersion and stability in the illusion the most. Which is why we should try the new algorithm suggestion. If the hologram isn’t constantly stable it won’t matter in the long run.”

Beck’s jaw tightened somewhat upon hearing your pointed words but his gaze turned towards your colleagues.

“Rerun test results from the last trial,” Beck ordered, but there was just enough politeness in his tone to keep even Victoria satisfied. “I want to do another trial tomorrow, and I need to know how far I can push the system without making the prototype explode in our faces.”

Daniel and Victoria nodded at once, standing together and moving toward their respective computers right away. Swinging your legs, you got up from your seat on the table to follow them, your stress ball in hand but Beck’s voice stopped you before you could so much as take a step.

“Not you,” he stated reluctantly, a faint smile lingering on his face, but his gaze narrowed when you peered at him with something close to surprise. “I need you with me and working on the grating light valve.”

You stared at him blankly.

On the other side of the lab, you heard Daniel and Victoria come to a standstill, the room suddenly falling suffocatingly quiet.

“If I want another trial done tomorrow, I need another pair of hands,” he provided in a way of explanation upon noticing your puzzled expression. “If it fails, we will remodel the algorithm and try your idea instead,” he added tightly, voice thin.

His dark, inscrutable gaze moved away from you after that and you had to force back a victorious smile.

The traces of bitterness on Victoria’s and Daniel’s faces were impossible to miss though.

. . .

The ball left your hand for the hundredth time that day, sailing smoothly through the air as gravity sank its nails into it, immediately dragging it down.

Funny that.

Everything that goes up must always come back down.

“Question.”

You heard Beck exhale quietly as he shifted in his seat. It was an honest sound; a sound that betrayed his irritation with you, and it made you gleeful that he allowed these nastier parts peek out when it was just the two of you.

It was just after 1am, marking it yet another too long, too sleepless night stuck working in the lab. There was a dull ache of exhaustion pulsing near your temple but you had gotten very good at ignoring it by now.

“Go on right ahead, sweetheart,” Beck intoned dully, eyes never leaving the prototype he was fiddling with in front of him. “I’m thrilled by the mere thought of having you question everything I do yet again.”

Scoffing, you threw the ball in the air again, catching it clumsily. At least you didn’t drop it, unlike the last four times. “Please stop acting like you’re not finally making tangible progress with this.”

His hands stilled, lowering the tools he held delicately onto the workbench as his eyes slid to you.

He probably had a grand total of four hours of sleep in the last 48 hours. He looked like a mess. An attractive mess, but a mess all the same.

His eyes were too wide, too cutting, as he stared at you for a silent moment. “Someone has a high opinion of themselves,” he murmured coolly.

You grin stretched and you wiggled your fingers at him playfully, “Someone has to. Besides, you would have found a way to get rid of me if I was really such a burden to you. But, back to my previous point: question.”

He leaned back, his chair creaking as Beck adjusted himself.

“Go on, then.”

His expression was blank, closed off, but there was that unnerving glimmer of interest that he usually hid very well. But it was late—or rather early—and it was just the two of you with a table separating you, and a thousand questions you could ask each other.

“Let’s say, for a moment,” you began pleasantly, rolling the stress ball between your hands as you leaned your elbows on the table, your eyes locked with his. “That we live in a perfect world where you will succeed and get this technology to work. Now, I don’t know if Victoria and Daniel didn’t ask you, or whether they did and you simply shut them down, but I have to ask: how will you handle the side effects?”

Quentin’s head tilted slightly to one side, and he grinned—sharp, menacing—while he leaned his chin against his open palm. “Side effects? What makes you think something as innocent as illusions will do anyone any harm?”

“Don’t play coy with me, sweetheart,” you purred lowly, mocking, voice dipping into something colder as you mirrored his position. “Your briefs make it clear that your end goal is to create technology that will alter someone’s perception of reality itself. I don’t think I need to sit here and explain to you what overexposure to something like that does to a person. But just to make it clear: a weaker mind will suffer from paranoia as well as disillusion with reality. Is that clear, or do you want me to go on, no? Now, please enlighten me how you will handle minds that can no longer distinguish between what’s real and what’s not. It’s more than dangerous it’s—”

“Godly.”

A hushed breath slipped past your lips and you stared at him wide-eyed. Beck’s expression remained the same but the blue of his eyes almost looked black, the shadows under his eyes making him appear more than just dangerous. Somehow more and less than human all at once; a raw, terrible thing.

You forced your fingers to relax their deadly grip on the stress ball in your hand.

And then you laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

And you weren’t surprised to find him grinning at you from ear to ear when you were done.

. . .

“I mean it’s kinda awesome.”

Yes, it would be if it weren’t for the obvious tinge of envy in Daniel’s voice.

“Why do you think—?”

“Daniel,” Victoria cut in flatly, expression sour as she glanced at him. “It’s none of our business as to why.”

“I know,” Daniel insisted, but he didn’t sound as convincing as he probably would have liked. “But aren’t you curious? I’ve worked for him for over a year, and you worked with us for almost 9 months. Are we doing something...wrong?”

Okay, this could potentially become very problematic if you didn’t handle it with a certain delicacy.

“Dan,” you addressed him directly, your expression arranged into something concerned, troubled, “I’m sorry. I—you know how he is. Stubborn, demanding, and overly dramatic about everything. I—I think it’s purely because I’m annoying him too much. Maybe he’s hoping that by allowing me to work on the prototype he can finally keep me quiet for longer than five minutes, you know? It’s not because you’re somehow less—god, you’re so smart. You both are. I think Beck just can’t handle me anymore.”

“You’re wrong.”

Much to your surprise, it was Victoria who answered you, frowning at you like what you were saying didn’t make any sense to her.

You paused, genuinely surprised, and when she addressed you next, you realised that you may have underestimated her after all.

“You’re brilliant,” she told you seriously, gaze set and jaw tense, “Just as brilliant as he is, and he sees it too. That’s why he lets you work on the prototype. If anything, watching you both work together is downright terrifying.”

. . .

“Why pretend?”

You didn’t bother holding back your disbelieving scoff. “Okay, first of all, pots and kettles,” you said flatly, “And second, what is it to you?”

“Curiosity.”

Chuckling, you glanced up at Beck and away from the lens you were fiddling with, “About?”

Much to your surprise, he was already gazing at you when you looked up at him. He rarely gave you his time or regard, choosing to continue working while you talked—and even then, you both preferred to work around each other rather than together. This meant most of these late-night work sessions were spent in tranquil silence.

“What makes you tick,” he told you bluntly, not missing a beat, and your slight smile widened at the gleam in his eyes. “Why bother with trying to make everyone your friend?”

“Well in assuming that, you’re already wrong,” you disagreed casually, rolling a loose screw between your fingers and giving him a speculative glance, appraising. “It’s not about being friends with everyone. It’s about their belief that you are their friend. It’s unwise to commit to anyone or choose sides. Court attention at all times but never commit. By making people feel appreciated you make them depend on that positive attention. People are...simple. And it’s very easy to fool someone when they’re already fooling themselves. You would be surprised how disarming selective honesty and generosity can be.”

You could see him mulling over your words, and it was hard to ignore the shiver of delight at the ravenous look he was giving you. He ran his hand over his three-day-old stubble, thoughtful, astute.

“But not with me,” he pointed out impassively, a treacherous smile twisting his lips to one side. “What’s the matter? Don’t want to be best buddies with me, honey?” he practically purred and you laughed shortly.

“Please,” you shot back with a gleaming smile, your eyebrows knitting. “It’s just the two of us here, so we can be as honest as we want. You can’t stand the sight of me because you hate the very idea of your authority being questioned. That’s fine, I don’t really like you either, to be honest. Why ask me though? You do the exact same thing, you just lack the patience—oh.”

Scoffing, you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, “You think I manipulated my way into this position, don’t you?”

He gave you an innocent, almost playful look, and shrugged, leaning back in his seat as well. “You tell me.”

“As much as it would no doubt comfort you to think so, no,” you stated firmly, a touch irritated now, “I got here by pulling endless cramming nights in school and college. I got here by working double shifts after school to pay for my education because I had no help. From anyone. Even when I barely had enough to feed myself, I didn’t ask for help. Everything I’ve achieved, I achieved by myself.”

Beck exhaled slowly, fixated on you in a way that you knew would make most people uncomfortable.

“It would seem we do have something in common after all,” his tone was light, but his eyes told a different story. “But you’re still unsatisfied with what you have.”

It wasn’t a question.

“No, I guess I’m not.”

“Why is that?”

“The exact same reason you’re here,” you explained smoothly, watching his expression carefully. “Because I want something and I’m going to get it.”

A glimmer of that ferocious, mocking smile twisted his features once again and his head tilted to one side, “And the self-inflicted isolation is just part of the deal, sweetheart?”

Your laugh was hardly pleasant but you didn’t care, not with him, “Touche.”

. . .

“You just described your girlfriend, that’s not fair,” Daniel said with a laugh. “You’re making the rest of us feel bad with your fairytale romance.”

“I’m weeping for you, truly,” Victoria deadpanned, not even giving him a glance. “What about you then? What’s your perfect partner?”

Daniel sighed deeply, frowning as if in deep thought, and you almost rolled your eyes. The two of them were sitting opposite to you, busy with last trial results while you sat on the other side of the table with your feet propped on the gleaming surface. The tablet in your hand was warm from hours of use, and you pretended to fiddle with the data on screen, almost involuntary eavesdropping on their conversation.

You weren’t about to pass up on free entertainment.

“Someone smarter than me,” Daniel began, so serious a laugh bubbled up at the back of your throat, and you had to work hard to keep it in. “Someone kind and nice—oh, and someone with a great sense of humour too! Just someone amazing.”

For a second you felt his eyes rest on you, and you worked very hard to keep your concentrated expression in place.

“Wow,” Victoria drawled slowly, amusement bleeding through her dry exclamation. “That’s deep, Dan.”

“Shut up.”

Daniel laughed weakly, clearly embarrassed, and you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from smirking too.

“Hey, what about you (Name)? Who would your perfect partner be?” he questioned and you paused, fingers stilling on the tablet screen.

You had been so preoccupied with enjoying their pointless conversation that you never took a moment to prepare an answer for them. For the first time in a while, you felt yourself draw blank.

Before, premeditated words like “tall, dark and handsome” would have slipped out with a bashful smile and half-hearted shrug. Now—

Hmm.

Moving your knees to one side so you could see them clearly, you felt your words bubble from someplace deep in you, “Someone with teeth.”

For a second they were both completely still before Daniel burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking from the force of it. Victoria, on the other hand, was giving you an odd look—almost like she could read deeper into your words.

“Yeah, I’m kinda having a hard time picturing you with someone who has to wear dentures,” Daniel shot back with another snort, shaking his head. “It would be funny to see though.”

Your smile was indulgent, and you waited till Daniel took the lead, steering the conversation in a different direction before letting it slowly fade.

It was almost impossible to escape the suffocating intensity of Beck’s stare across the room though.

. . .

The trial failed.

The holographic illusion lasted a minute and fourteen seconds—a new record but nowhere near good enough if you wanted the lead project.

Daniel was frustrated and expressed his disappointment loudly. Victoria was more subdued but no less dismayed.

Beck took it calmly, but his fingers touched everything with a gentleness that told you he wanted to smash and grind everything in close vicinity to dust.

His eyes lifted to yours.

He didn’t say a word, simply stepping past you towards the whiteboard with the algorithm.

There was no point in gloating right now, you both had work to do.

Hours became a haze of suggestions, adjustments and recalculations.

Neither of you noticed when Daniel and Victoria slipped out, far too focused on your work.

It was some time after midnight, that Beck slammed his hand against the board in frustration, making it rattle and wheel back. He breathed deeply, calming himself, though you could see how tense the muscles in his neck were. He grabbed the edge of the board, pulling it closer and leaned against it for a moment, running his hand through his hair.

Sighing, you bent down, picking up the fallen marker and walked up to him till you were standing side-to-side.

“Breathe,” you instructed calmly, though your own eyes were aching from staring at the damn thing for countless hours. “You’ll figure it out,” you added firmly, offering the marker to him.

Beck looked at you, gaze hollow, and loose strands of hair brushing against his forehead as he reached for the pen in your hand. His fingers locked around yours, scorching hot, and he gave you a thin, morose smile.

“I know we will.”

You only laughed at him softly.

“That doesn’t work on me,” you tutted, your words deride, dry. “Keep your “you’re so special because I’m drawing exclusivity around you and myself” wordplay to yourself.”

His smile transformed into an almost pleased smirk, and you rolled your eyes. “Back to work.”

. . .

“A minute fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two—”

With every read, Daniel’s voice pitched like he was holding himself back from screaming the numbers out. Your nails cut into your palms as you stared at the solid, blue image of floating dolphins in front of you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t counting your breaths too, waiting for the image to break.

It didn’t.

A week and a half of working nonstop and now—

It stayed strong, steady, and you grinned widely when you heard Daniel scream that it’s been over two minutes. Victoria immediately chided him, reminding him to keep counting since the trial wasn’t over yet.

Through the happy chaos, your gaze found Beck’s who was standing on the other side of the hologram. Blue lights danced over his features and you observed the muted wonderment in his gaze, the raw satisfaction practically radiating off him. You smirked innocently, pulling a mock joking expression with a shrug of your shoulders.

For once, his answering smile actually resembled something close to genuine joy.

. . .

“Okay, so I could lie and tell you the traffic was really bad but honestly I just felt like—”

You froze, your words dying in your throat and the grip on your coffee cup tightening slightly. There was that all too familiar spike in your pulse, and you inhaled deeply, quietly, rearranging your features into something neutral as you observed the stranger in your lab.

The man stood dressed in a white, crisp shirt and khaki pants that only accented his tallness. He stood with his back to you, arms crossed over his chest as he observed the floating dolphins in front of him.

Upon hearing you, he turned in your direction, a smile breaking out across his face. His grin was near blinding, his eyes crinkling behind his designer glasses as he peered at you with open interest.

“Can I help you, sir?” you asked politely, approaching him few steady steps at the time.

“Ahh, you may be able to,” the man said, turning to face you. “You won’t happen to be the (Name) I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Oh, something about this didn’t sit right with you at all. Starting with the fact that this stranger shouldn’t be in your and Beck’s lab when no one from your team was here.

“That would be me, sir,” you answered with a faint, awkward smile, “And you are?”

The man blinked before releasing a brief—forced, oh he was pretty good—laugh, his gaze briefly sweeping down the length of you as if weighting your worth.

“Where are my manners, honestly,” he exclaimed, still grinning but it was an empty, contrived thing. “My name is Patrick Hodge. I work in the Visionary department as well, just a different team. I’m its leader.”

Ah yes. Competition. You had meant to check out what projects you were up against eventually—poke around for some weak spots, see if there was anything to exploit. His name also rang a bell. This man was not only in a position of power but also well-liked and respected around the Engineering & Innovation division.

Looking at him, you could see why.

A cold-blooded opportunist who was good at playing the charming sucker.

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you responded respectfully, taking his hand when he stretched it out in your direction. “I would introduce myself, but it seems like you already know of me.”

“Indeed I do,” he said silkily, still holding your hand for longer than would be considered appropriate. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. Always smiling, always willing to help out. Quentin Beck’s new miracle right hand. I just had to meet you for myself. Some are even attributing his latest breakthrough solely to you.”

Oh?

You smiled faintly, playing at bashful, and lowered your gaze to the floor while your fingertips tapped against your coffee cup. “Not at all, sir,” you demurred with a chuckle. “That was all Mr Beck’s work. He figured it out. Holography is hardly my area of expertise. I can only advise, perhaps suggest ideas, but ultimately it’s not my field or invention.”

“What is it you specialise in then? If you don’t mind me asking?”

You most certainly minded, but this was information you could give him easily enough. For two reasons: first, you needed to know why he wanted to know so badly, and two, fulfilling his first request for information would psychologically leave a good impression of you. An impression that you were obedient and possibly a source of information. All things that could draw him back to you, ultimately working out in your favour.

“In AI construction and development, sir.”

And just like that, you felt your instincts screech at the pleased, almost haughty, sheen in Patrick’s eyes he did a very good job of hiding. If you hadn’t been watching him as carefully as you were, you would have easily missed it.

He had a look of a man who just received the best news in his life.

“May I ask—”

“Patrick. Whatever brings you here?”

The man in front of you stiffened, his fake grin wavering for a moment before he finally released your fingers, glancing over your shoulder.

It was odd.

You almost felt relieved to have Beck back in the room with you.

His sharp edges you liked. Patrick, on the other hand, left a rotten aftertaste in your mouth.

“Quentin,” Patrick greeted smoothly, stretching his hands out for another shake. “Congratulations on your progress. The whole Visionary program department—hell, the entire division—is buzzing about it.”

Beck came to stop right beside you—unusually close even for him—and your arms almost brushed against each other when he took Patrick’s hand in his own.

“Thank you,” he replied with that charming, crooked grin of his. “I couldn’t have done it without my hardworking team. We still have a lot of work to do though.”

It was impossible to miss the way the two men were eyeing each other up behind those pleasant smiles and honeyed words. Whatever they had between them wasn’t nice or pleasant, and you felt your interest arouse as you glanced at Beck from the corner of your eye.

“I’m sorry but I’m afraid I’ll have to cut your conversation short,” Beck continued, not sounding very sorry at all, “Still lots of work to do and the demo week is just around the corner. If you would excuse us,” he finished pointedly, smiling pleasantly.

“Of course,” Patrick voiced calmly, but you didn’t miss the slight, irritated narrowing of his eyes. “You need to use this momentum of success while you still can after all. I look forward to seeing you more around the industries (Name). If you ever want to drop by and have a look at my project, you can find my team and myself at lab 38. I think it will be to your liking. Good day to you both.”

And with that, he strutted out of the room like he owned the place and deemed it no longer up to his standard.

. . .

“That absolute imbecile Daniel must have blabbed.”

Beck’s words were soaked with simmering sort of rage, everything he touched being held in a white-knuckle grip. You observed him intently, resting your chin on your palm as your eyes tracked his erratic movements. He was angry, and he looked like he was having a hard time keeping still because of it.

“No one was supposed to know,” he explained bitterly, his tone pinching vehemently around every syllable. “Our progress would have been our biggest advantage.”

His eyes turned to you, narrowed, and he blinked like he was suddenly coming back to himself. You wondered if he realized just how unguarded he’d been just a moment ago—how easily it had come, and how you were still in your spot simply gazing at him calmly despite it.

“Okay, first of all,” you spoke blandly, lifting your chin from your palm and folding your hands on the table before slouching in your seat. “Cut the theatrics and tell me who the hell he is and why I should care. I know he’s a big shot around here but clearly you have some personal shit going on between you.”

Beck’s jaw tightened minutely, sharpening his features in a way that made you regard him with more interest. Oh, this one was personal alright.

“Last year,” Beck began, his voice icy, “He sabotaged me. Made sure I wasn’t able to present my technology because he knew that what I had was better than his work.”

Eyebrows jumping upwards, you pulled a mock shocked face, your lips parting, “Your proof? Or did you just get a special little boy feeling that it was him?” you wondered cheerfully.

Beck’s expression flickered and he chuckled coldly, giving you an equally mocking shrug, “Gee, I don’t know, honey. Maybe the fact that he told me straight to my face? He’s an arrogant prick and couldn’t resist gloating. Of course, I had no way to prove it. He covered his tracks well.”

“Are we still talking about Patrick or…”

His stare was cutting, “Funny.”

Your eyes rolled and you shook your head, sighing, “Look, I’m sorry but can you get any more cliched? A rival? Really? What’s next? Oh, I know: you’re a superhero now.”

“What did he ask you?” Beck suddenly demanded, changing the subject completely. “Did he ask you about the illusion tech?”

Staring at him vacantly, you forced a shaky, “Yes, he did. And I told him everything,” was your terrified whisper before your features cleared with a blink, and you shot him an exasperated look. “No, he didn’t ask. And even if he had, I would have fed him a cork of shit. I’m not an idiot. I know he’s competition. He wanted to know what I specialised in.”

“And?”

“And it’s AIs. Happy?”

But Beck didn’t look happy at all. With his shoulders hunched—tense—and his knuckles white, he looked ferocious at he stared at you for a long moment without blinking.

“Shit,” he muttered breathlessly, rising abruptly, “Shit, shit, shit. That fucker.”

Shooting an odd look his way, you tracked his tightly coiled figure as he moved around the table. “Okay. Am I missing something here?”

Beck’s wide-eyed stare swung back to you, blazing, “His own project is AI. That asshole is hoping to manipulate you to his side. He saw that your interference was helping me. He can’t take that chance. He wants to use you against me.”

“That’s cute.”

“I’m not joking, honey.”

Rising to your feet, you closed the distance between you in a few steps. “No, that’s really cute,” you shot back bitterly, pure acid dripping from your words. “Cute that you think I’m going to allow some desperate, arrogant prick to just shove me around like some pawn in your little pissing contest. I know men like him. If he wants to play games, that’s fine. I can play, but I will play to win.”

Oh, there was something enjoyable about the guttering severity of his regard.

Something enjoyable about the way he was looking at you like he wanted—

“Hey, I’m back—”

You blinked, almost disoriented, your head turning sharply towards Victoria who stood in the doorway. She appeared frozen, her almond eyes taking in the image in front of her with a subdued frown.

You’d been so lost in the moment—in the heat of the argument—you hadn’t even realised that you and Beck were practically chest-to-chest. Taking a step back, you shot the older woman a smile.

“You brought doughnuts? You shouldn’t have!”

Victoria’s smile was genuine but stilted, her gaze focused on Beck. When you glanced at him too, you were forced to swallow heavily when you found him still staring at you. It was like he hadn’t bothered acknowledging Victoria’s presence at all, something indescribable gleaming in his eyes while he stared at you.

The moment passed, and he turned away from you without a word.

Suffice to say, Daniel did not escape the storm that was Beck’s rage when he came back from lunch.

. . .

“So are you guys coming to the party on Friday?”

Victoria didn’t hesitate, “It’s not just any party, Dan,” she explained flatly. “It’s a mandatory company gathering, and as a team that’s going to be presenting our work in two weeks time, we have to attend. So yes.”

Daniel presented her with what he no doubt believed to be an endearing grin, “Be my platonic plus one?”

Victoria finished typing whatever she was working on before peering at the blonde from beneath her glasses, “I’m taking Salma, Dan. Duh.”

Daniel blinked, momentarily speechless, “Wait, right, sorry. How about you (Name)?”

Drowning a mouthful of coffee, you glanced up from your work with a noncommittal hum, “Me? Someone already asked.”

Victoria shot a not-so-subtle look Beck’s way but the man in question was frowning at his screen, turning his head slightly in your direction as if confused.

“Really? Who?” Daniel questioned, a little put out and a bit too demanding for your taste.

Giving them both a blank stare and pointedly ignoring Beck, you simply said, “Patrick Hodge.”

“What?”

Daniel and Victoria both exclaimed almost simultaneously, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Beck’s head snap in your direction.

“He asked, and I said yes,” you told them impassively, calmly taking another sip of your coffee. “Stop acting like it’s some big thing because it isn’t.”

“Of course it’s a big—”

“Could you two give us a moment?”

Beck’s voice sliced through the room like a bolt of lightning despite how soft and calm it was. Daniel’s expression fell, and he glanced from you to Beck, and then back again. Victoria’s attention was solely on Beck, her eyebrows furrowed as she stood, nudging the still Daniel beside her.

“C’mon, you,” she prompted, giving you a discreet look you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Let’s have an early lunch.”

Daniel looked like he was going to protest, but Victoria grabbed his forearm, giving it a squeeze of warning.

You remained silent while the two gathered their things, not giving Beck the time of day while his attention remained focused solely on you. Unnerving.

The door to the lab barely closed before he was already up and on his feet, approaching you with that dangerous gait that originally caught your attention.

“What were you thinking?”

Exhaling wearily, you tilted your head lazily to look up at him when he came to a stop beside your desk. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?”

His eyes flashed; a silent, awful storm brimming behind that calm facade. “Because I told you what he wants. Because he’s using you to get to me.”

“Whatever is going on between you two is irrelevant to me,” you threw back at him without hesitation, and noticed the way his jaw tensed at your words. “He’s one of the most prominent figures in this company. I would be a fool to not use this chance to pave my own way.”

Beck moved closer, your legs almost touching, “You don’t need Patrick to pave your way. Once I get the lead project—”

“Well that’s just it, isn’t it, handsome?” you interrupted coldly, a sarcastic tilt of your voice giving him a pause. “Your lead project, not mine. I need to think about myself because when you get the project—rejoice!—but what about me?”

“You will be my project co-leader.”

Oh.

To be the project co-leader would place you right at the top of the food chain. More than that, if the project did well and ended up bringing company success it would open all the doors for you and then some. You wouldn’t need to wait for opportunities—they would come to you and in abundance.

Lethal sort of calmness slackened your face, and you rose to your feet slowly, practically face-to-face with Beck as you stared into his eyes.

“I would encourage you to think very carefully about the words you use around me,” you whispered, your voice like a sharpened blade against his throat. “I’m not your puppet. I’m not a pawn you can use however you please. You ever lie to me and I will make you regret ever meeting me, Beck. That, I can promise you.”

“I’m not tricking you,” was his hushed response as he stared at you unblinkingly, something hungry warping his features when you leaned closer.

A fleeting smile danced across your face and your hand lifted, brushing against the lean curve of his shoulders before your fingers came to a rest against the back of his neck. The soft material of his black turtleneck tickled your fingertips, and from this close you could scent the faint whiff of his expensive cologne.

“Hodge can give me everything I need,” you told him quietly, lightly running your fingers across his neck, and biting back a smug grin when you felt his pulse jump just so.

Beck’s own lips twitched into a sly, almost cruel smirk as he leaned into your touch with a knowing expression. “Perhaps,” he agreed, his hot breath fanning against your lips from how close your bodies were. “But I can give you everything you want, honey.”

A genuine, sensual sort of laugh slipped free from you, and you glanced up at him from under your lashes, grinning.

Your eyes locked onto his lips and you leaned closer, your bodies touching and the pad of your thumb gently stroking his jaw. Your breaths mingled and you breathed him in deeply, enjoying the moment for what it was.

He was looking at you like wanted to devour you, and you have never denied yourself the little things in life.

You paused just before your mouths touched, however; enjoying the closeness and the heat of him so near.

What a wonderful, treacherous thing he was. And oh, how he made your blood sing.

“We shall see about that,” you breathed with a playful laugh. His eyes snapped open when you pulled back, and for a moment you were sure he was going to grab you and kiss you anyway.

Taking another few steps back, you shot him a wink, licking your lips. “We shall see.”

. . .

“Oh hey, you’re still here.”

Victoria didn’t reply right away, and you felt a small frown tug your lips down as you watched her hurriedly moving her equipment around. She liked her work area clean and tidy but something about this felt...final.

“Vic? You okay?”

Her hands trembled before she splayed them across the workbench, a shuddering breath escaping her.

“I’m transferring after the party,” she told you bluntly, still not looking your way. “I haven’t told Beck yet and...I rather you didn’t either. But I wanted you to know. I mean—I—we’ve sort of become friends in these last few months, right? The only two girls on the team.”

You hurried towards her, cautiously touching her shoulder, “Of course we’re friends,” you assured her softly, your expression creasing with confusion. “But transferring? Why? Did something happen? Did Beck say something—”

“It wasn’t him,” she cut you off, but her following chuckle was bitter. “I finally got approached by another team leader. Dominique. I’m having a hard time believing someone like her wants me on her team.”

Indeed.

You knew of Dominique. Or, more accurately, knew how close her and Patrick worked together.

My, my, Patrick was indeed good. Trying to manipulate you to his side and taking Victoria from Beck—effectively eliminating two most valuable members of the team in one swoop. He must be feeling pretty confident he would be able to charm you to his side if he was trying to pull something like this with only two weeks left till the demos. Interesting.

“Wow, congratulations, you deserve this,” you told her, giving her shoulder a pat. “Don’t give me that look, you really do deserve it.”

“You’re not...mad? Not going to call me a traitor or something?” she mumbled, fiddling with folders in front of her. “I thought you would be angry.”

“What? No, of course not. If this helps you excel that’s all that matters,” you replied with a slight laugh. “Besides you’re an adult, I can’t exactly make these decisions for you. I will miss you. But I also wish you luck.”

Victoria exhaled in obvious relief, giving you the widest smile you’d seen from her yet. You both stayed like this for a few seconds, content, before you saw the happy smile on her face crumble away piece by piece.

“What’s wrong?”

Victoria gave you a long, searching look before shaking her head. “If I tell you,” she began, hesitation twisting her voice. “Promise me you won’t get upset.”

Curiosity bubbled in the pit of your stomach and you nodded slowly. “Promise. I always keep an open mind. Or I try.”

Her features twisted into a grimace and she glanced around the lab—almost like she had to confirm to herself that you really were alone.

“I’ve seen how you are with Beck,” she whispered, cautious, awkward. “I know you think it will be different with you. I know you hope it will be love one day, but a man like him...”

She hesitated, staring at her hands, and everything inside you went incredibly still at her words.

“He’s the most dangerous man I’ve ever met,” she admitted tersely, still not meeting your stare. “He will destroy everything in his path to get what he wants. I’ve seen it. So leave. Please run now while you still can. Love from a man like him will only bring you pain. If you let him, he will be the death of you. He will love you to ruin.”

The silence that fell around you after she finished was peaceful, the buzz of technology around you a familiar symphony.

When Victoria finally looked up at you warily, you felt her muscles stiffen under the palm of your hand.

“Oh Vic,” you told her with a gleaming, cold smile, “Who said anything about falling in love?”

. . .

“You look beautiful tonight.”

A lie.

But he was damn good at it.

“Thank you.”

Patrick spun you in a respectful, comfortable circle, minding the other couples on the dancefloor. You had no choice but to accept his request for a dance, letting the soothing jazz number wash over you as the rich and the wealthy danced all around you.

Majority of the faces were familiar to you from the company. And it was impossible to miss how more than one pair of leering eyes drilled holes into you when Patrick spun you around with another glowing smile.

“You still haven’t shared your thoughts on my project,” he prompted rather bluntly and your eyes swung to him, feigning startled surprise. “I was rather anxious to hear your professional opinion of it.”

“It’s rather impressive, sir,” you told him with a slight, polite smile.

But not as impressive as Beck’s work—not if he got it to work at its full capacity like intended. And you would make sure he would.

Patrick’s own smile was sharper, more annoyed, “Nothing else to add?”

You blinked innocently, forcing another embarrassed laugh, curving your shoulders somewhat. “Sorry, sir, you make me rather nervous.”

“Nonsense, dear—”

“Mind if I cut in?”

Patrick came to a stop, you with him, and your eyes flew to your right only to find Beck standing in front of you. He looked…

Good.

Better than good.

Clad in all black and his hair slicked back neatly, he looked more like a sinful, dark promise than a man. While he usually preferred a clean-shaven face unless he was stuck in the lab for days, today his stubble was heavy. It framed his face in a more roguish way that made your pulse jumps slightly when his piercing blue eyes met yours.

“Quentin, I was just—”

“Come now, Patrick, surely I’m allowed to steal my own right hand for one dance?” Quentin wondered, a pleasant chuckle escaping him. “Or am I wrong?”

He glanced around the crowd in a rather obvious and telling manner. A showcase that he knew full well that people were watching you all right now. Patrick’s smile was stiff, bordering on resentful, but he released you all the same, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss on top of it.

“I see you very soon, dear,” he promised you, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. He gave Beck a dazzling, deride smile that almost made you bristle on his behalf when he brushed past him.

Beck didn’t waste time, stepping closer and taking your hand in his just as a new song started playing. His other hand settled on the small of your back, the two of you swaying from side to side wordlessly.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how breathtaking you look tonight,” he stated calmly after another minute of silence. “But you do.”

“Oh, you’re getting good,” you snapped, controlling your tone and trying to smile through your clenched teeth. “I almost believed you this time. Better yet, tell me what the hell you’re doing right now?”

His grip on you tightened slightly, and he gave you a mock surprised look, eyes widening, “I do believe we’re dancing, (Name).”

Seeing your hard stare, he cleared his expression, peering at you for a moment longer before finally giving you a flat, “Saving you.”

“Did I look like I needed to be saved?” you scoffed, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on your conversation. It was already proving to be a challenge to keep your expression calm. “I was laughing just moments ago.”

Beck hummed, a slight smirk twitching his mouth upwards, “Yes, you were laughing. But not with him but rather at him—there’s a difference. He was boring you to tears.”

“Can for once,” you hissed under your breath, your gazes clashing, “Just once, you think of something other than your ego? Can’t you leave your dick-measuring contest till a later date? Don’t ruin this for me.”

His gaze was frigid as he spun you around, carefully bringing you back into his embrace. “I told you, you don’t need him.”

“And I suppose I need you instead. Is that it?”

You didn’t bother holding back on your bitterness this time, your words like a barbed-wire tightening around you both.

It was difficult to interpret the long, lingering look Beck gave you in reply to your words. Swaying silently for a few more moments, you forced your expression to relax, hoping that he was going to let this moment pass.

“No, you don’t need anything from anyone,” he finally admitted, his words frustrated but it didn’t feel like the frustration was directed at you. “That’s why I like you.”

Biting on the inside of your cheek, you cut another look his way. “I told you that doesn’t—”

“I’m not saying it for the sake of saying it,” he rebuked, his expression hardening like it was difficult for him to admit that. “I don’t use my words lightly, sweetheart. But I had hoped you would know why I cut in.”

“Well, I don’t.”

His irritation was hard to miss this time, and his attention dropped back to you from the crowd he was observing only moments ago. “He wants to take you to his bed, use you once, and then throw you away like a used toy. All so he can have the satisfaction of rubbing it in my face.”

“So?”

A breath—sharp and disbelieving—whistled past his parted lips and his grip on your hand tightened for a second before he relaxed. “So? So, you would take him to your bed?”

Your smile was more of a snarl as you leaned in closer, “First of all, who I do and do not take to my bed is none of your goddamn business. Second, let him think with his ego. As far as I’m concerned that just puts me in a stronger position.”

Beck leaned in too, his gaze firm, insistent, “If you make him desire you but not give him what he wants, he will grow to resent you.”

You pushed away with a sigh, and he twirled you in a sweeping circle before tugging you back, his arm like a shackle around your waist. It was becoming increasingly more difficult for him not to show his anger, and the cracks made you more curious than you would care to admit. Did he truly care so much about his ego that the mere thought of you sleeping with Patrick frayed his edges this badly? Or was there more to this? More than he won’t admit to.

“That doesn’t matter, I don’t need him to like me long term,” you muttered, trying to force calmness into your tone. “Besides since when are you such an expert on wants and desires of other people?” you wondered with a slight tilt of your chin as you regarded him oddly.

He didn’t reply, his eyes flickering over your features unhurriedly, gaze inscrutable. His continued silence only made you bolder, and you leaned closer, your lips almost brushing against the curve of his ear, “I do wonder, what is it that the great Quentin Beck wants?”

Something burned in the endless abyss that was his eyes when you leaned back. The heat of his palm sank into yours, and you had to hold back a shiver when the arm resting at the small of your back slid around your waist purposefully. He pressed you close, gaze fervent, and the contours of his body melted against yours when his lips parted to respond—

“Ah, sorry, if I could have your attention please!”

You pulled back from Beck with an unsteady breath, his hand flexing around yours like he wasn’t going to let go before his grip loosened. For a moment you stared at each other before your eyes turned to locate the source of the voice. The music faded into a gentle stop, lights dimming till the only thing illuminated was the small stage where Patrick now stood. He beamed at the crowd; his white suit almost blinding as his eyes swept over everyone, watching as people turned their attention to him.

“Hi, everyone, sorry to pause the festivities,” he began with a chuckle. “Just a few announcements before I let some of my other distinguished colleagues take the stage. Firstly, thank you, everyone, for coming tonight. It’s wonderful to see so many talented individuals here in one room. While unfortunately, Mr Stark could not attend the party himself—probably off saving the world somewhere—his spirit is truly with us here tonight. So let us make him proud! Secondly, I would like to make a more personal announcement but for that, I would like to invite someone else to join me on this stage. (Name) would you be so kind?”

You felt Beck stiffen beside you, and had to take a moment to force your own fluttering heart to calm down. Patrick’s eyes finally spotted you in the crowd, smile widening into something almost predatory when he gestured for you with his hand. Swallowing, you took a step towards the stage, your mind scrambling for an explanation as to what exactly he was planning.

Beck’s fingers enclosed around your wrist swiftly, skin burning, and your head snapped in his direction as you paused. Something wild and dangerous twisted his expression before he allowed his face to smoothen. You waited—just a second, just the one—to see if he was going to say anything but he remained silent. His heavy stare didn’t waver though, and whatever he was trying to convey through his silence you chose to ignore.

Tugging on your wrist, you broke free, heading towards the stage without so much as a backwards glance, carefully climbing the steps to the platform. Patrick was already waiting for you, taking your hand in his the moment you came face-to-face. Your skin crawled when his cool, dry lips pressed against the top of your hand again, his attention shifting back towards the expectant crowd.

“This young lady,” Patrick explained, pausing for effect, “This lady right here took me by a complete surprise. I admit I was late to learn of the talent we were housing in our company. Everyone I talked with, everyone I approached, had nothing but good things to say. It almost seemed too good to be true. But then I met her, and well, suffice to say I was wrong to doubt my colleagues.”

Patrick grinned at you, and something about the too happy gleam of it unsettled you more than you would care to admit. Despite your unease, you forced your lips into a faint smile.

“And then I learn that this talented, kind, hard working-individual was unutilized daily,” he continued, his voice full of mock disbelief and you felt something close to dread starting to creep into your veins. “Well, I don’t believe that anyone at Stark Industries should be made to feel undervalued. For that reason, from this moment on, I’m appointing (Name) as my personal consultant on the AI project I’m currently working on.”

Ice sliced through your body, collecting right at the base of your heart as your eyes flew through the crowd.

But Beck wasn’t looking at you. No—his dark, vicious stare was focused entirely on the animated Patrick who was still talking, talking, talking—

He had planned this.

The bastard had planned to simply take you. Perhaps he couldn’t be bothered to play, or perhaps he knew it would take too long to recruit you to his side.

He knew.

And had chosen to remove you from the team—from Beck—by pulling all the strings available to him.

You were simply his instrument of control. A puppet, a pawn, for him to use in order to lessen Beck’s chances of winning.

“Come, dear,” his sickly sweet voice registered over the loud applause, his fingers lingering between your shoulder blades. “I would very much like to enjoy my victory now.”

Victory.

Victory?

The word echoed, splintering inside your mind—

Something savage and scorching boiled in the pit of your stomach and—

Patrick stepped down the steps, extending his hand for you to take and you bit your tongue till you could feel the sharp sting of blood in your mouth—

You placed your hand in his.

Victory? I’ll show you victory.

. . .

an:.....PHEW! Thank you so much for reading. Hope you all liked the cliffhanger lol. Not gonna lie, I’m nervous about this series so any feedback is always appreciated! Love you all and see you on the flip side!! tagging: @angeli-fucking-cat @calypsolotus @ssskeletonsoffun @galactic-magick @antisocialshipper (thank you guys, hope you liked it!)

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #marvel #marvel fic #jake gyllenhaal #mysterio x reader #marvel imagine #quentin beck imagine #mysterio #spiderman far from home #spider man: ffh #i will literally evaporate if this doesn't go in the tags #fic: unbecoming series

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shrinedrug74 · 3 years

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Impact On Quality Of Life.

Doctors also ask whether loved ones have had similar symptoms, due to the fact that stress and anxiety disorders tend to run in households. Stress and anxiety problems can be so distressing and conflict so much with an individual's life that they can bring about anxiety. People that have an anxiety disorder go to least twice as likely to have clinical depression as those without an anxiety disorder. When a person's action to stresses is inappropriate or an individual is bewildered by occasions, an anxiousness disorder can arise.

As an example, stress and anxiety related to bereavement/loss needs to not be treated with medication unless it meets these standards also if it creates severe distress and/or disorder. Panic disorder is an anxiousness problem qualified by reoccuring panic attacks, which often occur for no apparent reason. Since the physical signs and symptoms of an anxiety attack can be so undesirable, individuals who are susceptible to experiencing anxiety attack come to be very scared in anticipation of the next strike.

Specialist Treatment For Co.

It is also existing in a wide variety of psychiatric problems, consisting of generalised stress and anxiety problem, panic disorder, as well as anxieties. Although each of these problems is different, they all feature distress and disorder especially related to anxiety as well as fear.

What makes a good child therapist?

1) A great child therapist has experience working with children similar to yours. Your child's therapist should have education, training, and or experience to help reduce your child's symptoms. Treatments for OCD should explain her “scope of competency”. That's what the child therapist has her expertise in.

This creates a vicious circle of anticipatory anxiety, further including in the panic as well as spurring on more strikes. Individuals experiencing generalised anxiety condition experience anxiousness around daily life occasions in a manner that interrupts their daily performance. Someone with GAD will really feel nervous or strained most days, have a great deal of pondering ideas as well as will most likely have difficulty keeping in mind a time when they last really felt calm or kicked back. After years of living with stress and anxiety, panic disorder and terribly distressed feelings bordering my social anxiousness, I was operating on vacant concerning the tools to manage anything.

Pair Therapy For Depression (iapt).

In the warm of the minute of high anxiety and panic, these worries of disaster show up influential. In the initial circumstances, those suffering from anxiety needs to be provided accessibility to a support system and self-help details suggestions by their physician. If this doesn't aid, or the anxiety is much more extreme, emotional treatments such as cognitive behavioral treatment and/or used relaxation are recommended. To comfort set up an account, , she states, 'Since we know that there is a trouble, there are things we can do to aid you.

From light nerves to large panic, anxiousness is a natural action to demanding circumstances, as well as one that can aid us respond suitably when we remain in danger. However, for those living with an anxiety condition, sensations of worry or fear aren't a sensible action to outside circumstances-- they are a disruptive and dominating influence. They may take out from social communication with friends and family. Work can likewise be stressful for people with basic anxiousness problem they might take some time off. This is a vicious cycle as it may raise the person to worry a lot more concerning themselves and also hamper on their self-confidence. Prior to treating anxiety, very first establish whether it is pathological or non-pathological. Stress and anxiety is a normal human feeling which needs to not call for therapy unless disproportionate to the context in which it takes place by either level or period.

Magical Reasoning Ocd: My Problem.

Utilizing CBD products can reduce rapid heart rate, panic, shivering as well as shivering muscles and also general body tension. By alleviating these symptoms, CBD can minimize the overall anxiousness one experiences. Marijuana can likewise deal with nausea, palpitations and also sleeplessness that go along with stress and anxiety problems. A methodical review including 12 regulated trials that examined the proof for the effectiveness of acupuncture in the therapy of anxiousness and stress and anxiety disorders. Ten of the trials were randomised, four concentrated on acupuncture in generalised anxiety condition or anxiousness neurosis, and six concentrated on stress and anxiety in the perioperative period. No researches were situated on the use of acupuncture specifically for panic disorder, fears or obsessive compulsive disorder. Doctors try to find other problems that might be creating anxiety, such as clinical depression or a sleep disturbance.

#cognitive behavioral therapy online #cognitive behavioral therapy techniques #cognitive behavioral therapy near me #cognitive behavioral therapy examples #cognitive behavioral therapy definition #cognitive behavioral therapy nhs #cognitive behavioral therapy for anxiety

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ghostsbabey · 4 years

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DBD! Julie (the legion) x Reader Warnings: None

Your aggravation was reaching a boiling point, the other survivors failing to relieve your stress. It seemed like they were purposely getting on your nerves with how many times the gens had blown in your face- sparks burning the tips of your fingers. You didn’t know how many times a window had been taken when you were still injured. It kept adding up, and you were so frustrated you could scream. It didn’t help that the killer you had gotten seemed to have taken quite the interest in you. You didn’t know how many times you felt the blade pressed against your back as she followed you with ease, almost like she was taunting you. It seemed like everyone was against you, even the entity. Her gaze felt colder, her tendrils on the hook almost caging you in as you struggled for your life. There was more malice behind her pressing jabs at your chest. And yet, the others let you hang, they let you hang until they absolutely had to save you. You didn’t know what you had done wrong or why they were behaving the way they were. Maybe you were overreacting, but you couldn’t deny how upset you were. It wasn’t until you heard the noise of the gates powering up that you felt hope- even if they were across the trial area from you. You swore you were flying towards the exit gates, your eyes lit up as you spotted Jake holding the gate handle down. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar breathing that your heart dropped. “Going somewhere so soon? I thought we shared a bond earlier- when I put you on the hook I mean. You barely struggled, are you sure you’re trying to live?” Her words caught you off guard, your head turning to meet the gaze of the mask. She was running right next to you with ease, the blade raised dangerously high. You didn’t understand what her game was, until you realized it was quiet. You didn’t hear the usual beeping of the door as it slid opened. Your gaze flicked to the gate- jake was gone. He had ran as soon as julie made her presence known. You didn’t even realize you were slowing down until your legs stopped moving completely. Your eyes were glued to the shut gate as a small smile formed on your face. Your laugh sounded foreign, like it was far away. It was just a sick joke, this whole trial. Tears welled in your eyes as a gloved hand gripped your shoulder. The cold metal of the blade pressed against your cheek before tracing up to below your eye. “They don’t care about you, they only care about themselves. I should know, we all used to be in your position. Nobody cared about us.” Your gaze shifted to the exit gate handle, your legs shaking as reality dawned on you- her form pacing around you like a shark circling its prey. She twirled the knife in her fingers, her voice muffled from the mask still. “I know the anger you’re feeling, I know the loneliness you’re feeling. You could’ve died so many times this trial, but I didn’t kill you. I wanted to see those feelings fester. I want you to understand how we felt.” You wanted to shove her, to scream, to take the knife from her hands and take revenge on the others that left you to rot. Instead you found yourself stepping closer to her- your arms winding around her waist as you buried your face into her. Tears flowed freely from your eyes as all your pent up frustration was let out. She was silent, the tip of the blade tapping against the back of your neck as she looked down at you. It wasn’t until you put your full weight on her that she spoke. “You’re pathetic, you let them do these things to you. You have nobody to blame but yourself in this realm. Maybe I could help you though. You just need to help me first.” You knew it was akin to making a deal with the devil, you knew it was a bad idea. But you found yourself nodding anyways, the knife pressing into the back of your neck still- a trickle of blood running down the blade. She calmly pulled her mask aside, her wicked grin burned into your mind as you looked up at her. You examined her features, but your gaze always found itself back on her smirk. You knew you made a mistake- a grave mistake. You shook hands with a demon and now you’d face the consequences. She pressed the blade under your chin- forcing your head up more as she looked you over. “I’m bored here. I love the others, don’t get me wrong, but they can get under my skin. Especially Frank. So, I need entertainment. And you’re just the girl I’m looking for- weak, alone, in need of a friend.” She looked you up and down as she spoke, her gaze settling on your chest for longer than you felt necessary before returning to your face. You shook your head, your voice strained as you questioned her. “I.. I don’t understand. Couldn’t you get that from the others? You don’t seem very fond of me with how you describe me.” Her laughter echoed around you both, the blade slipping against your neck- a small cut forming as blood dripped from it. You felt her hand shove into your chest before you fell back onto the ground, her foot slamming down onto your stomach as she loomed over you. “If I wanted it from the others I wouldn’t be here asking you, now would I? I may not be particularly fond of survivors, but you’re not bad. You’re just a doormat to them. You bend over backwards for their survival but they wouldn’t give a shit about you even if they had the opportunity to help without a chance of getting hurt. So while I think that you need some work, you’re not terrible. I would’ve killed you if I didn’t like you.” You grabbed at her ankle, wincing from the pain before meeting her gaze. You could tell she was growing impatient, her fingers flexing around the handle of the blade as she fiddled with it. You were speechless as you mulled over words. It wasn’t until she put more weight on a wound you sustained during the trial that you cried out. “Alright, I accept the deal. The whole deal. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please get off me” Your voice was laced with pain, her boot pulling off your abdomen as you covered the wound with your hands- blood covering your palms as you applied pressure to it. She crouched down next to you, yanking your head up by your hair to smash her lips against yours. Her tongue wormed its way into your mouth before you could recover from shock- your lips moving with hers almost on their own. You almost let out a whine when she pulled away, her arm wiping at her mouth before pulling the mask back over her face. “Good choice. The entity is getting tired of us wasting time here though, I suggest you go. I’ll come find you when I want you, and if you go back on our little deal.. I know more than just how to stab with a knife.” She gripped the knife tighter, the expressionless mask staring back at you before she turned on her heel to walk away. You nodded, almost to yourself, before slowly getting up- your hand gripping the exit gate handle. You stood there waiting for what felt like forever, the feeling of her lips on yours sending buzzes of excitement through you. Your cheeks flushed as the gate opened, your legs subconsciously carrying you through it and towards the campfire. You couldn’t tell if you felt dread or excitement for the next time she found you, but you didn’t care. You wanted to see her again.

#dbd #the legion #julie #female reader #dead by daylight #reader is dumb baby #julie knows this #do the math

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nabongsunny · 6 years

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불필요한 ( Self Para 2/? )

being in south korea again, it was like a breath of fresh air. sunny hadn’t expected to come back anytime soon, after her father had passed she had every intention of coming back. but minho, maisy and jae had come into her life and she didn’t want to leave them behind. she’d only ever had her father, and now they were the family she’d never had. plus what exactly did she have here in korea? all she was here for was support for minho while he was at trial. well that was it was to begin with. when sunny had been at her father’s apartment picking up some more clothes, she’d come across an envelope. the envelope contained information about her biological mother. sunny had just always assumed she’d died, but according to the letter that wasn’t the case, this woman was a very well respected and high up lawyer.

sunny had found a picture along with contact information inside the letter from her father. she raised an eyebrow, still looking down at it. while minho was busy, she’d told jae she was just going for a walk. sunny had rarely ever been in seoul, gisung being her home. she’d been here once, and that was only for a small shopping trip when her father had gained a bonus at work before he’d become seriously sick and she’d tried her best to look after him as best as she could but being only fourteen at the time, she didn’t have much knowledge on it. the more the years progressed, the worse it got. that’s when the move to the US had happened, because he needed treatment for it. they’d never talked about her mother, and sunny never asked. thinking if she did that it may upset him further.

sunny walked into the building, looking around approaching the desk just a few feet away. “hello.” she breathed greeting the young receptionist. “i’m looking for Mun Young Sook.” she showed the picture and the girl behind the receptionist desk looked between sunny and the picture, clearing her throat she put her finger up. picking up the phone she pressed a button and sunny chewed her lip, suddenly feeling a spout of anxiety run through her. she really wished she’d brought minho or jae with her but she didn’t want to cause anymore stress for either of them. they, minho especially, was dealing with enough. she looked around, noticing a few people staring at her while walking past and she frowned looking back to the girl.

“she’ll be right down.” the girl gave a smile but for some reason, sunny didn’t think it was genuine. sunny nodded. . her hands falling from the desk to grip hold of her shoulder bag strap and she waited a good five minutes. her thoughts trailed off to the baby boy she’d met with his nanny. he was so cute and adorable. part of her wondered if minho’s son would look like him before she heard the people murmuring, looking up she found that the woman from the picture, looking just a few years older was storming towards her and she did not look happy at all. the woman, her mother, stopped in front of her and she was so much taller than her, even if she hadn’t been wearing heels. sunny suddenly felt tiny, and she felt strange under the woman’s cold glare. “can i help you?” she asked. she sounded very formal. “oh.. i um..” she held out the picture to show her, and the letter. the older woman snatched them from her and sunny slowly retracted her hands.

while the woman scrutinised the picture and the letter, she could feel stares on them and she turned to look at the other people but the woman seemed to notice them as well. “follow me.” she ordered. sunny was slower than her, but she kept up a good pace or she thought she did. the woman threw open the door to a room, and ushered sunny inside. sunny’s fingers were gripping her bag really tightly to stop them from shaking because the feeling in the pit of her stomach was telling her that this had been a terrible idea.

especially without someone with her. strutting past her, the woman moved to take a seat behind a large desk. the room was fancy, but sunny didn’t take too much notice as her gaze fell upon the older woman scowling at her from behind her desk. she put the letter and the picture on top of her laptop and tilted her head, her dark cold eyes drawing sunny up and down and she finally met her gaze.

“what exact intentions did you come here with, na bongsun?” that caught sunny by surprise and she stammered trying to get her words out to no avail. only managing a “you.. know who i am?” she asked, confused. sunny knew that of course, the woman would know there was a child out there but she didn’t think she’d recognise her, she hadn’t seen her since she was born according to that letter. but then again shouldn’t a mother know their own child? sunny wasn’t sure, she wasn’t a mother. well not in the biological sense, minho seemed to want her to help him raise his son and she was going too. that made her a mother.. didn’t it?

the woman rolled her eyes. “of course i know who you are. you look exactly like me. and now this whole place is going to be talking about it.” sunny didn’t quite know what she meant and she opened her mouth but the woman put her hand up stopping her. “i don’t know if you came here in hopes of some happy reunion.” sunny blinked, confused. “no.. i just.. wanted to meet my mother..” she breathed, biting her lip. the woman sighed, rolling her eyes again. the look on her face causing sunny to shrink back a little from her stare.

“i’m the woman who gave birth to you, but you’re not my daughter, nor am i your mother. i thought i made that clear when your father got you.” the words caught sunny again by surprise and it was like her breathing and her heart had stopped. “you, na bongsun, were a mistake that i didn’t have the heart to get rid of. hence why you went to your father. he said he’d take care of everything, though it was clearly a burden on him as well. i’m surprised he lasted as long.” her hands clasped and rested on the letter and the picture on the desk. sunny blinked, having no idea what to say to that. what could she possibly say? she tried not to show any emotion but she knew that was too hard for her to do it would be written all over her face.

“your father and i were very good friends when we were younger, had a one night stand 24 years ago while we were drunk. it was a mistake that shouldn’t have happened. it was a very unwanted pregnancy. on both of our accounts. but i’d have brought more ” her words were honest but they stung and her hands tore the letter up along with the picture of her father with Young Sook. sunny had opened her mouth to tell her to stop, but she clammed up and stopped herself from doing so. “we were both married and acting recklessly and then a few months later i was pregnant and like i said it was a mistake on both of our accounts, he was too proud to give you up like i suggested, had he just done as i said, you could have been raised properly with a family who wanted you instead of being raised out of pity. but then again we’ll never know. ” the woman spoke more until she stood up tossing the ripped up picture and paper into the trash beside the desk. sunny froze, had her father really not wanted her either? was it out of pity?

“i don’t know what you expected, i never wanted children. children are needy. and clingy. like i imagine you would have been had i been in your life. but i brought shame upon my family for having you, i made it clear to your father that you were never to come near me. why isn’t he here with you? that idiot should have told you all of this by now, regardless of whether you look like one or not, you’re not a child. honestly that man is an idiot and he always has been. a screw up who couldn’t stand on his own two feet and messed things up not just for himself, but almost for me as well.” she motioned at sunny with a scowl on her face as she turned away from her, sunny stared at her back. sunny’s breathing had completely stopped as she stared at her, her chest physically began to ache as the woman before her began speaking ill of her dad. “now if you don’t mind, i’d rather you leave, before the gossip spreads through this building, and please for both our sakes, don’t come back.”

“he’s dead.” her voice was filled with no emotion, as the words slipped out. this stopped the woman in her tracks as she walked towards the rather large window. she turned back to look at sunny, but there didn’t seem to be any remorse for what she’d said. “he died nearly two months ago.” actually saying it out loud, hit home. she felt all her emotions bubbling at once because she hadn’t actually allowed herself to grieve properly for him. she’d got up and she’d gotten on with it, and she’d done it on her own. sunny, despite what she had now, didn’t have it when he’d died. it was clear to her that this woman’s pride and reputation meant more to her than a child did. but was to be expected of a woman that, had, had an affair with her friend and gotten pregnant? but to find that she was kept out of pity. that hurt worse than the things this woman was saying. but she wouldn’t let her bad mouth him.

she hadn’t gotten her hopes up for this meeting, simply because when sunny got her hopes up, things happened and she ended up disappointed. but some part of her was really upset… and of course disappointed. why had she actually thought that there was other family out there? she chewed her lip and she looked down. she didn’t say anything for a minute but she looked up. finally finding the courage to leave. “he wasn’t a screw up to me. he did the best he could.” her voice was meant to sound strong but it didn’t. “i’m sorry for wasting your time.” she adjusted her bag, offering the smallest of bows, sunny turned and headed straight for the door, as it opened and a man, and a woman behind him, maybe a few years older than sunny stepped through the door. “eomma.” they gave a bow at her, both sets of eyes finally landing on sunny. eomma. the woman had lied. she had other children, who she clearly had in her life.

she said nothing, giving a light bow of her head as she walked past them quickly, she’d had enough confrontation for one day and she knew there would be more by the time the trial started. sunny ignored the looks of people she was getting, clear gossipers who had nothing better to do. she hummed quietly to herself, something her father had taught her when she was younger until she was out of the building and once she was she moved quickly until she was around the corner, nobody could see her. her hand pressed over her chest and she hit where her heart would be a few times until it’s beating slowed instead of pounding against her ribcage. she felt like she ached all over.

she really didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself, she’d come to do what she needed to do it was time to go back, so she did, walking by herself as it started to rain. she did have her umbrella but she didn’t bother bringing it out, the rain wasn’t too heavy and if she ended up soaked she’d get a shower and she’d change her clothes. once she’d made it back to the hotel, she could see that jae seemed busy, but he looked up at her and offered a smile. “caught in the rain?” he asked, and sunny nodded. he could sense something wasn’t right. “…bongsun.. are you okay?”

sunny had to think carefully of her answer but she nodded. “i’m okay. just a little nervous for minho.” jae raised an eyebrow, doubting her words but if she didn’t want to talk about it he wouldn’t force her. “it’ll be fine, we have every faith in minmin.” he winked and he hummed looking back down at whatever he was looking at, and sunny nodded to herself, yes they did have every faith in minho, she knew he’d get his son, and she knew he’d be a good dad. sunny stood, quietly swaying on her feet before she decided that she was going to shower just so she was freshened up for when the trial finally came.

#self para #keeping this one too #bC HER MOM'S A BITCH

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ultratesterthings · 4 years

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#PABoost: Kris Aquino, the showbiz cockroach, bit off more social media fodder than she can chew

After the Nagasaki and Hiroshima nuclear attacks, reports came out that cockroaches were the only creatures that survived the two blasts. With that said, I think it can be argued that Kris Aquino is the showbiz equivalent of the Nagasaki and Hiroshima Cockroaches, with her atomic blasts being the many scandals she survived throughout her showbiz career. And what's the problem? Kris Aquino's #PABoost Scandal, the latest atomic blast, is something that even a cockroach like her may not survive.

ANALYZING ANALYTICS DATA

Recall the controversial Pep.ph article "Nicko Falcis swears Kris Aquino said: 'PAPAPATAY KA NG PAMILYA KO'", that most likely triggered her latest press conference. I used an analytics app to find out how the said article went viral on social media and I discovered something really interesting: For the Motherland - Sass Rogando Sasot and Thinking Pinoy appears to have influenced 27,500 or over 65% of the 42,000 shares Pep.ph’s article garnered.

Facebook's CrowdTangle comes as a Google Chrome extension app that instantly provides social media analytics data of any given page.

Facebook's CrowdTangle, a service that describes itself as a tool to "measure social performance and identify influencers with tools designed for publishers.", is a great tool to find out how a given article spreads through Social Media, and that's what I used here. Note that the "Total Interactions" under "Top Referrals" cover only pages and not profiles, so that the over 33,000 total interactions figure shown comes only from pages, while the other 9,000 comes from personal profiles. Going back, analytics data shows most of the article's traffic basically came from TP and Sass' followers, people who are very well aware of the #PABoost controversy, where various screenshots released by the camp of her estranged financial manager Nicko Falcis

KRIS WILFULLY IGNORED #PABOOST

If Kris Aquino's massive social media team is worth its salt, it should also be totally aware of the allegations that Aquino's been funding at least one political propagandist [TP: #PABoost]. Thus, Aquino must have also been aware of the issue, unless her social media people are too scared of telling her about it for fear of suffering the same fate as her former financial manager. Nah! Kris must know about #PABoost: she’s known to be really good at PR work and she’s not totally stupid. Despite this, Aquino in her live video reply to the Pep article totally ignored the #PABoost Scandal and instead resorted to various appeals to emotion: her kids' welfare, her parents' legacy, her supposedly serious medical issues, and what not. But then, there are two important details that Aquino mentioned in her live video:

[1] That her endorsement deals are under threat, supposedly because of the health clause in those contracts.

[2] That she will take a 14-day hiatus from social media, supposedly per doctors’ advice

And here’s where it gets interesting. These two bits of information from Aquino, mentioned in the previous section, should be taken with a grain of salt. However, what’s clear and stipulatable so far are:

[1] That her endorsement deals are under threat, and

[2] That she will take a 14-day break from social media.

Yes, Aquino cited health concerns to justify both, but considering that someone like her who’s concededly more than adept at Public Relations, I cannot help but think that the alibi is all-too-convenient.

POLITICS AND PRODUCT ENDORSERS

Companies who want to sell to as large a chunk of the population want their endorsers to be likable by the largest possible audience. On the other hand, political discourse is inherently divisive. Thus, there’s a widely-held notion in the advertising industry that product endorsers should never delve too deeply in politics because it limits their ability to enhance product sales. I admit that sans a courtroom trial, we can never definitively prove beyond reasonable doubt that Aquino is funding opposition propagandists. The preponderance of evidence pointing to it, however, appears to be more than enough to convince the Court of Public Opinion. And there’s the problem: Kris has hundreds of millions worth of endorsement deals from companies who would most likely prefer getting apolitical endorsers. Aquino herself admitted not too long ago that she chose not to run for office in the 2019 midterm elections for fear of losing these contracts.But rumors of a senatorial run pale in comparison to accusations of financing political propaganda. That is, I have reason to believe that Aquino’s involvement in the #PABoost Scandal may have started to become a hot topic in more than a few company boardrooms, likely resulting to more than a few company directors’ suggestions to ditch Aquino in favor of a new endorser who can reach a larger segment of their target markets. Vice Ganda, for example, is a suitable alternative endorser for products that cater to socioeconomic classes C, D, E.

Vice Ganda (L) and Kris Aquino (R)

Surely, Vice Ganda endorsing Uni-Pak sardines will most likely result in better sales than a haciendera Kris Aquino doing the same. We all know that Kris is a socialite to the bone and we hardly expect her to buy Uni-Pak. She probably even feeds something more expensive to her dogs. The relatable Vice Ganda, despite her inclination towards Duterte as shown in what happened during Duterte’s July 2015 Gandang Gabi Vice guesting, remains largely apolitical, unlike Aquino who’s even funding political bloggers. I believe that the treat to her endorsement deals are less about her medical condition and more about her politics. And this theory is further reinforced by her supposedly self-imposed 14-day break from Social Media.

WHY 14 DAYS?

Aquino in her live video announced a 14-day hiatus from social media supposedly to avoid stress that her doctors supposedly said could worsen her Lupus. What I find odd, however, is the seemingly arbitrarily chosen length of her hiatus. Why 14 days? Why not 7? Why not longer? Did her doctors tell her that she’ll be significantly healthier in just 14 days, healthy enough to deal with social media-induced stress? I doubt it. Aquino herself admitted to being allergic to Lupus-related medicines, and Lupus in itself is incurable. If Aquino indeed decided to take a break from social media due to her medical condition, the break should be for a much longer period of, say, at least a few months or even a year. But 14 days, just 14 days? Social media is a fast-paced environment where issues enjoy a very short shelf life. The talk of the town today will most likely be forgotten as soon as another issue comes up. For example, the Tony Labrusca airport scandal along with rumors about his sexuality that erupted earlier this week have been relegated to the sidelines right after Aquino’s press conference.

Chismis time! Ano pang hinihintay n’yo? Pasok! I-tag na ang mga ka-chismosa natin para hindi mahuli. Posted by Senyora on Friday, January 4, 2019

That is, I cannot help but think that the 14-day hiatus is less about her health and more about preserving what’s left of her showbiz career. That is, it appears that she’s hoping that the #PABoost scandal would have died down by the end of her vacation.

KRIS AQUINO, THE COCKROACH OF SHOWBIZ

Right after the United States dropped atomic bombs in Nagasaki and Hiroshima during the Second World War, reports came out that cockroaches were the only creatures that survived the two blasts. And I think everyone will agree that in this respect, Kris Aquino is the showbiz equivalent of the Nagasaki and Hiroshima Cockroaches, with her atomic bombs being the many scandals she survived throughout her showbiz career. Do you still remember…

…her affair with the married actor Philip Salvador that produced a baby? …her (yet another) affair with comedian Joey Marquez where she even claimed to have contracted STDs? …her much-publicized rift with her erstwhile best buddy and actress Ai-ai de las Alas? …her seemingly apocalyptic breakup with baller James Yap that includes a protracted custody battle over their child?

These are just some of the many scandals she faced throughout the decades.

Oh, and I forgot Bistek!

Kris Aquino did not only survive all these scandals: she even deftly used the publicity to boost her popularity that, in turn, allowed her to snag multi-million-peso endorsement contracts, catapulting her to top of the Bureau of Internal Revenue’s top individual taxpayers’ list. But there the abovementioned scandals share one common denominator, a common denominator that the recent Aquino-Falcis #PABoost Scandal doesn’t have.

KEEPING IT PERSONAL

The past scandals enumerated in the previous section have one thing in common: the issues are extremely personal in nature, so that the public has no significant stake in the matter. Any regular Filipino who watched each of these quite entertaining events unfold knows full well that nothing in his life change whatever happens. Contrast that to the Aquino-Falcis #PABoost Scandal that, unlike the previous ones, took on a very political dimension. What initially started as a financial squabble slowly metamorphosed into a political issue after Aquino was found out to have been significantly funding anti-government political propagandists. Her financing an opposition-aligned blogger wouldn’t have mattered much if it happened in the 2000s. But a product endorser doing the same is a terrible idea at an age where every Pedro, Pablo, and Pekto is actively engaged in political discourse, and 74% of every Pedro, Pablo, and Pekto are satisfied with the Duterte Administration.

NA-BOOST KAYA NI NICKO FALCIS? Boost is how Facebook calls paid promotional posts. That is, a page administrator can... Posted by Thinking Pinoy on Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Unlike Kris Aquino’s previous scandals, the public now has a stake in her kerfuffle with Falcis. That is, the general public, instead of watching her make a fool of herself as usual just for kicks, feel that any semblance of victory on Kris Aquino’s part is a major blow against general public interest. After all, if Kris Aquino emerges victorious through-and-through, then she can just continue funding anti-government propagandists, to the detriment of Filipinos who are sick and tired of the brand of governance that her brother and former president Noynoy Aquino’s opposition espouses. Kris Aquino, as a product endorser, is basically a salesperson. Now, imagine a salesperson who tells you that you made a stupid decision to support your president then, at the same breath, attempt to sell you Uni-Pak sardines, Ariel detergent, UFC ketchup, Marca Piña soy sauce and what not? That’s ridiculous: I’d rather buy Ligo, Tide, Hunt's Ketchup, and Datu Puti, than help support the livelihood of Kris Aquino, the Kris Aquino who supports the livelihood of propagandists that will bring my country back to the nightmares of Yolanda and Mamasapano.

[UPDATE: Readers pointed out that Tide, like Ariel, is from Procter and Gamble. So I'll just buy Surf, I guess.]

Kris Aquino's many endorsement deals.

The latest developments in the Aquino-Falcis #PABoost brouhaha suggests that Kris is now in a scandal that she, unlike before, cannot possibly take advantage of. Kris Aquino basically bit off more social media fodder than she can chew. Will she continue to fund political propagandists after this? I do not know, but what’s clear is that the Liberal Partygoers, who so fervently paint their social media bloggers as selfless, patriotic, and independent activists, cannot do so anymore. Why? Because Kris Aquino proved that Liberal Party’s ogrish poster girl for social media – Pinoy Ako Blog’s Jover Laurio that she herself finances – is a paid hack. As for Vice Ganda's manager, I strongly suggest that you take even greater care of your talent's interests right away. Here's an opportunity. Grab it. *wink*. [RJ Nieto/ThinkingPinoy]

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bevioletskies · 7 years

Text

you make my dreams

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

summary: peter and gamora attempt to figure out the nuances of personal space on a cramped ship, now that they’re a couple. first things first? sleeping arrangements, and what to do about those reocurring nightmares of each other’s deaths. how fun.

word count: 15.6k

a/n: if you haven’t read the main fic, all you need to know is: a) the guardians attend a superhero school on earth, b) therefore they are in their early-to-mid 20s (except for rocket and groot), c) peter and gamora were fake-dating but are now dating for real, and d) they've been playing an "endless" game of twenty questions since they started fake-dating as a way of getting to know each other.

warning for the nightmare sequences that peter and gamora have. they're relatively angsty and sort of creepy, so if you want to avoid them, they're the paragraphs in full italics, and there's a summary of them in the endnotes.

fic title is from the song you make my dreams by daryl hall & john oates.

ao3 | tag | masterpost

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Gamora began as she strolled up the loading ramp of the Milano. It was a somewhat overcast Saturday afternoon, the school year was beginning again (which meant very little at the academy, being year-round regardless), and there was a sense of anticipation for new beginnings in the air.

“That’s good to hear,” Peter mumbled from where he was face-planted into the couch, limbs dangling over the edge. He had his ass kicked in fight training just a little over an hour ago, and had no intention of moving, no matter how bad the cushions smelled.

She frowned, dropping her bookbag with a loud thump right by his head, folding her arms over her chest. “Peter, we’ve only been dating for one week. Don’t let that be our record.”

He scrambled up into a sitting position like someone had lit him - or at the very least, the couch - on fire. “Right. Yes. Go on. Did I mention how nice your hair looks today, because wow - ”

Gamora let out a slow exhale of complete and utter exhaustion. They were all of sixty seconds into the conversation and she was already tempted to give up. “I’ve been thinking,” she huffed, “that we need to start talking about how to share space on the ship. We’ve never really talked about it before, and now that we’re romantically involved, it kind of...complicates things.”

“Complicates things?” Peter was confused. “I thought it would make things easier. Y’know, since we’ve been sharing a bed since before we started dating.”

She took a few steps back so she could sit across from him in the armchair, neatly folding one leg over the other, her face set in defiance. “Right. But doesn’t the change in our relationship heighten our emotional volatility? Do you really think we’re never going to fight again? Never going to want to sleep separately at any point in time?”

“We’ve got the dorms,” he protested.

“Only if we’re grounded. But what if we go on a mission, and we argue, and we have no desire to be in each other’s presence? Then what? Someone has to sleep on the couch?” He winced. The cushions really did smell kind of more than, well, absolutely terrible. He was eighty percent certain that Rocket had been experimenting with toxins in here. It would, at the very least, explain the suspicious oil stains. “And what if the fight lasts for more than a few days, or what if we break up?”

Peter deflated near instantly, hurt. “One week, and you’re already thinking about breaking up?”

Gamora reached to squeeze his hands reassuringly, her gaze softening. “Peter, I’m just trying to be practical. As much as I’d like to move into your room permanently, it’s not a good idea. There could be all sorts of complications in moving our relationship forward too quickly, and think of how it would affect the rest of the team if we spent too much time in each other’s company. It would give us more opportunities to clash. We wouldn’t be very good influences on Groot if he saw us fighting more than usual, and going back and forth between sharing a room and sleeping out here in the common area. We need to get used to being separate when we’re together.” Noting the storm beginning to form in Peter’s cloud-colored eyes, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. “And I’m not saying we’re anywhere near breaking up. The complete opposite, in fact.”

“I agree,” he murmured, pecking her briefly on the lips, pleased to feel her smiling into the kiss. “But what’re you suggesting?”

Still grinning, she pulled away. “A trial run. For this week, at least. Friday and Saturday, we share a bed. It’s the weekend, nothing stress-inducing should be happening - in theory. The rest of the week, we sleep separately, whether we’re here or back at the dorms.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Peter allowed, gently tugging Gamora by the hand so she would join him on the couch. He slung an arm over the back of her shoulders, pulling her into him. She automatically moved to rest her hands on his chest, smiling up at him encouragingly. “So...that means we’re sharing tonight, right?”

“Did you have other plans?” she teased.

He lowered his head so his mouth was by her ear. “Plans for you, maybe,” he whispered. She shivered a little at the implications, leaning in to kiss him again, when -

“Can you two stop mackin’ for a second, and one of you get up here? Twig’s got himself tangled in the wires again,” Yondu called from the cockpit. Peter let out an annoyed groan, pressing a quick kiss into the crook of her jaw before standing up.

“My turn, I guess,” he grumbled. “It’s like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted.”

______

Dinner, as always, was anything but peaceful, especially with the entire team sitting down together. Drax was convinced Groot had stolen one of his favorite knives, Rocket was out of bullet casings for at least three of his guns and wouldn’t stop bringing it up every two minutes, Yondu had somehow failed his very first quiz of the semester despite it being a “getting-to-know-you” icebreaker, and Nebula had found out about Mantis having a crush on a mysterious someone, and was, oddly enough, teasing her about it.

“And you can’t figure out if she feels the same way? Some empath you are,” Nebula snarked.

“Who even told you?” Mantis whined, burying her face in her hands.

“Leave her alone, Nebula,” Gamora sighed. “Drax, Groot had nothing to do with your stolen knife, I found it under the couch where you dropped it after our last sparring practice. Rocket, I don’t know how you managed to run out of bullet casings since we haven’t had a mission in two months, but you can make the trip to SHIELD quarters yourself. Yondu, I...have no words. You couldn’t even answer what your favorite color was?”

“Who has a favorite color?” Yondu exclaimed. “Is that a thing Terrans think about in their spare time? Seems like a waste of time t’ me.”

“Peter’s favorite color is red,” Gamora retorted easily. Peter smiled privately to himself, pleased that she had remembered.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” Rocket snorted. “Just ‘cause you’re dating Quill now, don’t mean you’re the leading expert.”

“Anyways,” Gamora said a little louder than necessary. “If we can move past all of our petty problems, the Director has informed me that we’ve been taken off the mission roster until the month is through, aside from galaxy-wide emergencies. Apparently, Janet has been putting in a little toomuch effort into planning more school events since prom was so successful, so she has something called homecoming week starting soon. She doesn’t want anyone to go out of town unless it’s urgent. We should be financially covered though, since we came into quite a bit of money from the yearbook contest.”

“Yeah, and you won’t let nobody actually see it,” Yondu complained, tossing his fork down onto his plate with a loud clatter. “Where you hidin’ the money, Gamora?”

“I would speculate it is under Quill’s mattress,” Drax said thoughtfully.

“Why’s that?” Rocket asked, cocking his head in confusion.

“Because no one wants to go near Quill’s room, now that he and Gamora are...copulating,” Nebula smirked, leaning back in her chair triumphantly. “Who knows when he last washed those sheets?”

“I am Groot?”

“I am not telling you what she meant, Groot. Trust me, you don’t need the mental images I got going on right now.”

Peter turned to Gamora, a deadened expression in his usually mischievous eyes. “I have never wanted to bash my head into the wall as much as I do in this exact moment.” She only shot him a warning glare in return.

“No one’s getting their hands on the money,” she said as calmly as she could, though mentally she was writing a list of what order to punish the others in, and how exactly to do it. “We have to be responsible. It’s a lot of money, more than we’ve ever had at a time, but it’s not endless. We can’t afford to be frivolous.”

“You’re no fun, girl, you know that?” Yondu drawled.

“Hey, come on, she’s right,” Peter interjected defensively. “The money can go a long way if we spend it right. Long-term investments, you know?”

“Someone’s been paying attention in econ,” Nebula muttered.

“Thank you, Peter,” Gamora exhaled, relieved. It was comforting to know Peter was becoming more financially responsible, especially after the incident from when they had first arrived on Terra. (He may or may not have gotten too excited at discovering the advances in Nerf Blaster technology since he’d left Earth, and invested in about five too many toy guns. Gamora had to hide them in her dorm’s private bathroom cabinet, behind her tampons. To this day, she still couldn’t understand why boys were so afraid of feminine hygiene products.)

“But if I had to make one request…” he began. She immediately slapped a hand over his mouth.

“No,” she said firmly. “No toys.”

Sullen, Peter gently pushed her hand away and turned to Nebula. “And another thing,” he continued. “I mean, copulating? First of all, who even uses that word anymore, and secondly, we’ve been pretty polite about it since you guys also sleep on this ship - we’ve been sticking to the dorms. Mostly. Sometimes, the mood just hits.”

“Peter, I will do more than ‘just hit’ if you don’t stop talking right now,” Gamora hissed.

“I am Groot?”

“Seriously, I’m not explaining, so stop asking.”

“Oh, for the love of everything!” Gamora groaned, slumping forward onto the table.

“I am scared to find out if she feels the same way because I cannot handle that kind of stress!” Mantis wailed very suddenly, causing Nebula to jump. “I would not know what to do with myself if she does not, or worse, if she does!”

Drax reached across the table to pat her on the hand, a little awkwardly, but otherwise quite gentle, a stark contrast to his usually brutish way of showing affection. “I hope she finds you as disgusting, yet endearing, as I do,” he said sincerely.

It took another minute before Gamora recovered her composure and joined the conversation again. Honestly, they couldn’t even get through a single meal without it turning into dinner and a show.

______

After tucking Groot into bed (and reading him Goodnight Moon for the third time that week), Peter returned to his room to find Gamora lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wide awake. “Hey, you alright?”

“Of all the things I have been through, I don’t think I’ve ever been as exhausted as I am when I’m with the team,” she said slowly, causing Peter to chuckle. “And don’t think you’re off the hook just because you’re my boyfriend.”

He smiled goofily at her as he climbed into bed, immediately snuggling into her side. “I love it when you say that. Uh, the boyfriend part, not the other - you know what I mean.” He slid his arms around her waist, squeezing her hips affectionately. “I’m gonna miss being able to hold you like this every night.”

“It’s only an experiment for this week,” she relented, turning onto her side to face him, her gaze softening as their eyes met. “I just think we need to consider establishing boundaries before it complicates the team dynamic, so sleeping separately is a good start. And I worry about what might happen the next time we go on a mission, how much will change now that we have an added layer to our own relationship. Can we be objective anymore?”

“Um, I’m never objective,” Peter said, looking oddly proud of that very fact. “I care about all of you, and maybe this is selfish of me, but other than you know, me, I tend to put you first regardless. Well, depending on how Mantis or Groot are doing.”

“And that’s my point,” Gamora said softly, cupping his jaw, though she couldn’t help but smile at how easy it was for him to admit that he was looking out for her the most. She wasn’t sure how to vocalize the same sentiment in return, though he probably already knew she felt the same way. “Maybe we’re already too codependent to begin with. We need to not rely on each other to the point of being unable to function alone, you know?”

“I get it.” He bent to kiss her on the nose, causing her to scrunch up her face so adorably that Peter’s heart melted a little. He maintained she was both one of the deadliest and one of the cutest women in the entire galaxy, her reputation be damned. “I don’t want to be like that either. But I also don’t think that sharing a bed is what’s gonna make it or break it. There’s other stuff that are signs of dangerous codependency, like…” She interrupted him with a sudden yawn, stretching, letting out a soft mewl like a kitten. Peter was pretty sure he was a puddle at this point - he really did love her to no end. “...maybe we can talk about this when you aren’t exhausted,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” she laughed. “I promise that wasn’t in response to what you were saying. But yes, we can talk about that another time. And I’ll concede by the end of the week if you’re right.” She pecked him quickly on the lips. “Goodnight, Peter.”

He couldn’t resist chasing after her mouth for one last kiss, enjoying the feel of her arms around his neck, pulling him in close. “Night, honey.”

______

Sunday passed by in a rather lazy fashion - the start of a new semester was always relatively slow - with the Guardians dispersed across campus, going about their day. Rocket took Groot with him to SHIELD so he could pick up his bullet casings, Drax went to the gym to get in some combat practice with Thor, Yondu holed himself up in the Milano’s cockpit so he could chat with Kraglin, and Mantis found herself being dragged around by Nebula who was strangely insistent on seeing who it was she liked.

Gamora managed to get Peter to go to the library so they could get a headstart on their homework, promising she would make out with him for five minutes on one of the plush leather couches in the secluded study area if he finished. (“Can I make a case for ten?” “No, Peter.”)

She could feel eyes on them as she sat closer than usual, laying her head on his shoulder after she had been long done, while Peter was still struggling through his abstract on psychological warfare. For some reason, she felt more self-conscious now than she had been when they were fake-dating and playing up their physical affection, despite the new emotional security in knowing that they really did love each other. Janet had slowed on her insistence of Snapchatting whenever they held hands in public, and Kamala no longer shrieked every single time she saw them kiss, but it was still unnerving to be watched, and to be known as the so-called cutest couple in school.

Peter’s voice broke her out of her reverie. “Hey, you wanna go grab an early dinner?”

Gamora glanced down at his laptop screen to see his word count was only half of what he needed. “But you haven’t finished.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Yeah, but you’re clearly uncomfortable. It’s the staring, right?”

She nodded, biting her lip in worry. “It’s like the beginning of our ‘relationship’ all over again,” she muttered, downcast. Then, a bit louder, “I could go for some food. But you better not hand in that abstract late, or Madame Hydra will kill you. And with her, anything’s a possibility.”

After a much more pleasant dinner than the previous night’s, on account of being completely alone, the two of them stretched out in a leisurely manner on the lawn by the quad, watching other students pass by every now and then, breathing in the crisp air of early autumn. Already, Gamora felt much more at ease, though there was a knot forming in the pit of her stomach at knowing she and Peter would have to separate by the end of the night. And maybe that was a sign, the kind she’d been dreading - that she already spent too much time with him, had become too reliant on his presence.

“Question number I-don’t-know-what-we’re-on,” Peter said, grabbing another fry from Gamora’s take-out container and getting a playful punch in the shoulder for his efforts. “If you had to pick one person on campus to be Nebula’s significant other, who would you pick?”

Gamora laughed. “Oh, that’s awful. I’m not sure, maybe Barnes? They both have metal appendages and long, regretful histories of assassination. That sounds like a match made in Hel.” She smacked Peter’s hand away before he could steal more of her food. “By the way, do you have any idea who Mantis has a crush on? I was unaware she was even spending time with anyone but us.”

“My baby sister’s growing up,” he sniffled dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. Gamora gave him a look that he was pretty sure translated to “you are ridiculous, please stop”. “No, I haven’t gotten any hints or anything. I wanna help her, though. I want her to be as happy as I am with you.”

“Your overly sappy nature is incorrigible,” she said fondly, moving a little closer so their shoulders were brushing. She laid a hand over his, fingers splayed across his chest, delighted to feel his heartbeat speed up a little at her gesture. “But you will hear no complaints from me.”

“Now can we make out?” Peter asked hopefully.

Gamora rolled her eyes, leaning in closer. “Find us somewhere quieter, and I’ll acquiesce.”

Apparently, the spot Peter had found them wasn’t quite secluded enough, as thirty minutes later, they were shooed off by Pepper, who gave them a stern talking-to about public displays of affection, but then admitted she was glad they had won Cutest Couple (“I’d never hear the end of it from Tony if Steve and Peggy won, trust me.”). They walked back to the dorms, feeling light as air, with Peter in particular letting out hysterical little giggles at recalling the murderous expression on Pepper’s face.

It was a little sobering, however, when they stopped outside her room, fingers loosely tangled together, as he slowly pressed her against the door, kissing her languidly, wishing he didn’t have to let go. “Peter,” Gamora said in that half-stern, half-affectionate manner she usually reserved for him and him alone. “You can’t come inside tonight.”

“There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere,” he mumbled, reluctantly pulling away.

“Remember how I vaguely threatened to break up with you yesterday? I’m getting that urge again,” she deadpanned, patting his chest. “You’re meeting me at the gym tomorrow, right?”

He sighed, apologetic. “I can’t, I have to meet Cindy at the café after class. We have a presentation on Friday.”

“Cindy Moon? What’s the presentation on?”

“Whether superhero origin stories have a positive or negative effect on the psychological health of said superhero. It’s actually a debate - I’m for positive, she’s for negative. Obviously.” He smiled teasingly at her. “Why do you wanna know if it’s Cindy Moon specifically?”

“Your insistence on turning my curiosity into jealousy is exhausting,” she frowned. “Anyways, I guess we won’t be seeing each other after all. I’m having dinner with Natasha and Elektra after sparring practice, so I won’t be going to the Milano tomorrow.”

“Aww.” He pulled her in for one last embrace. “Then I’ll text you after class?”

Gamora took a few steps into her room before turning to cast him a glance over her shoulder. “If you text me and leave poor Cindy to do all the work, I’ll just text her and have her yell at you on my behalf.”

“You have Cindy’s number?” Peter asked incredulously, but she simply gave him one last smile and shut the door in his face.

______

“Peter. Peter. Peter. Hey!”

“I didn’t do it!” He practically flew out of his seat upon being prodded in the arm with a pencil eraser. He looked around wildly before his eyes landed on Cindy, who didn’t look particularly impressed.

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, did you?” She handed him a Starkbucks napkin (how Stark hadn’t been sued by Starbucks yet was beyond Peter) so he could wipe the drool off his sleeve.

“Your spidey sense tell you that?” he snapped a little louder than he meant to, though he accepted the napkin regardless.

“Wow, okay. You don’t get to talk to me like that,” Cindy retorted, narrowing her eyes at him.

Peter held up his hands in surrender before running them through his hair, sheepish. “Shit. Sorry, Cindy, that was mean of me. You’re right, I didn’t sleep well. Uh, me and Gamora, we’re trying this thing where we sleep separately, but I guess I’m not really used to it yet.”

She chewed thoughtfully on her pencil, confused. “What for?”

“She thinks we’ve been spending too much time together and wants to establish some boundaries before we get too codependent,” he said, glancing down at his laptop screen. Apparently, he’d nodded off on his keyboard and had typed about a hundred rows of zeroes in the process. Whoops.

“And she thinks sleeping in separate beds is gonna change that? Interesting,” Cindy hummed.

It was Peter’s turn to look at her suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing, I just…” He waved a hand, indicating he wanted her to continue. “...maybe in another life, where you and her, or really any of us, aren’t the people that we are, it might be kind of weird to be around each other all the time. Like, there’s stories about people who get weirdly obsessed with their SOs and stop talking to their friends and family because they’re too busy being with them. But it’s not another life, it’s this one, where we’re so-called heroes, with varying degrees of messed-up backstories. And honestly, where else are you going to find someone who can love and understand you the way that she can? And I’m not trying to be nasty when I say that, Peter, but I’m saying it’s hard for us to be with someone who doesn’t get it. There’s a reason you feel everything so deeply about her, even moreso because you run a team together. I think it’s natural, and it’s not unhealthy, which I’m guessing is what she’s really worried about."

“So...you’re saying it’s justified,” he said slowly. They fell silent for a moment as he mulled it over - admittedly, there was a lot of truth in Cindy’s statement. Before becoming a Guardian, he had found it so easy to be around others that were nothing like him. Now, he was finding it harder and harder to have conversations with people that didn’t also spend their time saving the world. “Wait, are you just trying to get me to see your side of the argument so I’ll lose the debate?”

“Damn, you saw right through me,” she said sarcastically, snapping her fingers in defeat. He stared at her for a second before they both dissolved into laughter. Still, maybe Cindy was onto something.

______

Peter: hey, how was dinner with nat and elektra?

Gamora: good, we actually had some pleasant conversation for once instead of elektra telling us about her latest outing with ‘matthew’. also, no one stole my food this time

Gamora: you get lots done with cindy?

Peter: it’s not stealing, it’s sharing :p

Peter: yeah, we’re basically ready to go but we’re gonna do a runthrough during lunch on friday

Peter: k honestly i’m super tired right now but i just wanted to check to see how you were doing

Peter: so i’m gonna head to bed now and i’ll see you in class tomorrow

Peter: goodnight - love you :)

Gamora: goodnight, love you too

She plugged her phone into its charger and set it on her side table, rolling onto her back to fixate on the ceiling. It was still somewhat foreign to her to see and hear Peter declare his love for her so easily, like it was as natural as breathing, but she tried her best to return the sentiment whenever he did. She did love him, of course, and he knew that she did, but being the first to say it, however, was a different story.

The first week of their relationship hadn’t been the smoothest - after all, they had gotten pretty angry at each other only a couple days ago, when Peter didn’t want to go on a mission for the sake of keeping the team safe - but it surprised her how easy it was to be with him. Maybe it was because they had been faking a relationship for three months beforehand, or maybe it was the fact that it changed very little about their existing relationship.

Either way, Gamora still couldn’t help but worry that they were already too attached at the hip. She had no basis for what relationships were like, aside from those she witnessed on campus, and that of her mother and father (the little she could remember of them, anyway), but she wanted to be sure they were on a healthy road and not a downward spiral. There was no harm in being cautious, after all.

She settled down into her pillow, burying her nose into it and realizing it still smelled a bit like Peter’s shampoo. They had slept here a few nights ago when she had gotten a little desperate (she may have unbuckled his pants in the hallway, it wasn’t her proudest moment). Smiling to herself, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Gamora was running - no, sprinting - through a thicket of tall grass, if she could call it that. It was nearly twice her height and incredibly dense, scratching her face and hands, but she didn’t care, couldn’t afford to pause, not when she could hear the desperate cries of poor Groot in the distance.

Still, it seemed like the grass was endless, dizzying to the point of causing hysteria. She stopped to rest, hunching over to support her hands on her knees, panting, nearly gasping for air, the atmosphere becoming thicker by the second. She had only been running for a minute, how could she possibly be tired already? Was there some poison making its way through her veins? An airborne virus, perhaps?

Another moment passed before she realized everything had gone silent. Not silent in the way a classroom fell quiet after a teacher hushed their students, but like her ears had been clamped over by an airtight seal, not a single whistle of wind or hum of a fly to be heard. Or, more importantly, the whimpers of an injured child, desperate for help. Gamora twisted around, nearly tripping over her own feet in desperation, longing to hear something, anything again, when she found her surroundings being whisked away like some twisted house of mirrors gone mad, replaced with something familiar, and yet all the more eerie.

She now stood in the quad of the academy, but the campus was empty as far as the eye could see. There was no rambunctious laughter, no loud conversations, no students whizzing by with their super speed or magic powers or whatever it was that made them so quick on their feet. It was clean, too - sterile, almost. No chewed gum stuck to the pavement, no buildup of food wrappers in the garbage cans. It also smelled too fresh, like someone had taken a can of pine-scented aerosol and doused the entire area with it in an attempt to hide something.

Gamora was almost mesmerized by the whole ordeal, entranced, even, when she heard a wheezing noise from behind her. Whipping around immediately, she was horrified to find herself looking at Peter, tied to the bulletin board, head lolling about like he no longer had any control of his neck, and judging by how the rest of him had gone limp, had no control over his motor functions, period. He was devoid of any visible injuries - bruises, cuts, scrapes, not even a drop of blood, but there was a blankness in his eyes that made her heart stop.

She was by his side in an instant, hands grasping at the ropes that bound him there, trying to find a knot or an end to pull him free. “Who did this to you?” she said frantically, tugging with every last bit of strength she had. It seemed like a very simple rope - the kind they used on Terra to teach young children how to tie knots - so she would usually be able to snap it like it was nothing, but it had no give at all, no slack anywhere for her to slip her fingers into.

"Th...Th…” His voice was frail, lacking the energy she’d come to expect of him, but she didn’t need him to complete his sentence to know who he was talking about.

“He’s here?” She tried her best to choke back the bile rising in her throat, burning hot. “Why is there no end on this rope?!”

“G...G’mora,” Peter panted, his fingers grasping at her but not quite finding their hold. “I...I love you.”

With a final raspy breath, hollow, echoing about in his chest, his chin dropped downwards, every last bit of posture he’d been struggling to keep going slack. “No,” she breathed, her hands moving to grab his jaw. “No, Peter...no...you can’t be...no…”

“NO!” Gamora shrieked, bolting upright. Gasping, she clutched at her own chest, thrashing about, legs tangling in her duvet as she tried to get her bearings. You’re in your dorm room, she told herself sternly, once the pounding sensation in her throat had ebbed. Even the voice in her mind seemed to be shaking. Her eyes flickered over to her phone. You fell asleep, it’s midnight, Peter went to bed two hours ago on the Milano. He’s okay. You’re okay.

Am I okay? Gamora wondered, shoving her bedsheets aside. Despite the cold sweat beginning to form on her brow bone, the rest of her was burning up like a furnace. She stripped off her hoodie and sweatpants - it seemed like a good idea at the time since it had been quite chilly outside when she returned to her room, but now it felt like she was drowning in excess fabric.

After turning on her bedroom light, she tentatively made her way over to her closet. She was hedging on whether to just sleep in her underwear when she found one of Peter’s T-shirts on the floor by her bookbag. She deliberated for all of ten seconds before picking it up and pulling it over her head, staring contemplatively into the mirror. She could practically hear Peter’s voice as he explained its significance to her (“Oh man, I should really show you Flash Gordon sometime, it’s incredible”), cracking a small smile as she did. “Screw attachments,” she said to herself, making eye contact in the mirror. “It’s just one night.” Her breath finally evening out, she climbed back into bed and settled back under the covers, managing to close her eyes once again.

______

Peter strolled into Professor Pym’s lab, whistling idly to himself as he settled down on one of the benches, when he felt fingertips grazing his bicep. Flinching slightly, he turned towards the perpetrator and relaxed instantly when he saw it was Gamora. “Hey you,” he said cheerfully. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

Gamora had indeed worn the shirt she slept in over her usual leather pants. “Do you want it back?” she asked as she sat next to him.

“I told you, I like it when you wear my clothes. Just don’t take literally everything I own,” he chuckled.

She nodded absentmindedly as she began unpacking her bookbag, laying everything out on her desk. “I think I’ll be sleeping on the Milano tonight,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. She hoped Peter wouldn’t notice the slight tremor in her voice, though he was usually pretty observant when it came to her. “My dorm room was oddly cold last night.”

“Did you check with your RA? The thermostat could be broken. Or maybe the boiler,” he suggested.

“That was the first thing I did,” she lied, neatly lining up her pens alongside her notebook. “They might need to bring in maintenance and see if there’s a draft anywhere. Regardless, I’m not taking my chances on freezing in my sleep.”

“Well, it’ll be good to have you back. Groot missed you at dinner last night. So did I, obviously.” Gamora bit her lip to hide a smile, though Peter’s shy grin in return only strengthened her fondness for him. She leaned over to quickly kiss his shoulder, just as Professor Pym strolled to the front of the room.

“Alright, students, there was a little mishap in the computer lab last night, and I don’t want to point any fingers, but there’s one student with a hankering - hankering - for arson and skulls, am I right, Mister Reyes…?”

After classes were over, Gamora convinced Peter to go to the gym with her before heading to the Milano for the rest of the evening. There was something peacefully domestic about being on the treadmills together despite not having any conversation, Peter with his headphones on as always, bopping his head enthusiastically and nearly falling off twice, while Gamora was listening to a TED Talk on her phone (Natasha had gotten her hooked, and it was her alternate way of learning about Terran knowledge and culture outside of Peter’s admittedly narrow influence). It almost made her forget about the sudden terror she had experienced last night.

“So, what’d you get up to after I went to bed?” Peter asked as they moved over to the weight benches. It was like he read her mind.

“Going after the paperwork from past jobs that you haven’t filed away yet,” she replied. It felt like every lie she told was making her tongue feel heavier in her mouth, She hated keeping things from him, but she wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet, and she knew the moment she vocalized that something was wrong, Peter would start to fuss. “I didn’t realize the Director would require so much documentation.”

“I think that’s more Pepper’s doing than Fury’s,” he laughed, sitting on the floor in front of her. “I’ll spot you. Ready?”

To their relief, when they returned to the ship, the only ones on board were Rocket and Groot, the latter being a little sad, now that he was starting to shed leaves instead of grow them. The four of them had a surprisingly pleasant dinner, with minimal teasing from Rocket when Peter kissed Gamora in the kitchen. “You two are ridiculous,” Rocket said, waving a fork at them, though he didn’t look as put off by their romantic display as his tone would suggest. Groot was staring up at them with wide, puppy-like eyes from the kitchen counter, his mood instantly brightened at the sight.

Once the meal was over, Rocket went to put Groot to bed, and then was off to spend his night working on some weapons he didn’t want the others to know about that were stashed away in his room. Peter, on the other hand, requested Gamora spoon him on the couch while they watched a couple episodes of Happy Days on his holo-tab.

“You look tired,” she commented quietly, reaching around his back to gently pat his face. “I thought you went to bed early.”

“I did,” he protested, turning around to look at her. “One good night’s sleep isn’t gonna suddenly make me more awake.”

“Alright, I’ll concede,” she chuckled. “How was your day?”

“Good, good,” he nodded, resting their heads together, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “I had lunch with Mantis, I’m no closer to cracking the case on her crush. But asking questions makes her uncomfortable, so I’m not gonna be an ass about it. I also stopped by Avengers Hall to check out the announcements since Janet said something about peer tutoring. Figured I could use all the credentials I can get, you know? I didn’t sign up for anything yet, but I got a pamphlet if you wanna check it out. Oh, and…”

Eventually, she laid her head on his shoulder as he continued to talk, the even lilt of Peter’s voice rumbling through his body and keeping her heartbeat steady. She inhaled slowly, taking in the smell of his sweater. In all honesty, she had hated it the moment he had first put it on, having bought it last autumn - it was the sort of open-weave knit that snagged on hooks and corners, and made everything it came into contact with quite itchy, such as her own skin - but now, it just felt like home.

Gamora didn’t realize she had nodded off until Peter was shaking her shoulder, having set the tablet aside and was now supporting the entirety of her body weight, one hand on the small of her back, the other running through her hair. “Speaking of tired,” he chuckled. “Bedtime?”

“You’re quite comfortable,” she replied, yawning as she got off the couch. “I’ll see you in polisci tomorrow?” He nodded, patting her on the hip and kissing her goodnight before letting her go. Peter made a few last paces around the Milano, checking the doors and appliances, before heading back to his room.

He let out a somewhat disappointed exhale at the sight of his empty bed. Of course, he knew not to expect Gamora to be there, but he was half-hoping in her drowsy state, she would have returned to his room like she had been doing for weeks, acting on pure instinct. He turned off the light and climbed into his bunk, hating the way it felt to spread his limbs outwards and never brush against another person, to hear only the sound of his own breathing, the sheets cool to the touch at the presence of only one body.

Peter turned over onto his side, realizing he was occupying half of the mattress in the way he had become so used to, and promptly planted his face into the pillow, where he could smell the faint scent of Gamora’s shampoo. That, at the very least, gave him some comfort, allowing his muscles to relax as his eyes slid closed.

It was warm, the sort of warm that one only felt on a beach in the tropics. It made everything a little hazy, the air rippling with the lack of humidity, making one’s limbs feel oddly light, like it would be easy to lay flat on one’s back and float away into nothingness. Peter opened his eyes to find Gamora sitting cross-legged beside him, leaning over his prone form. “Hey.” He was disturbed to find that his voice sounded disembodied, as if he weren’t physically present. One glance down at his own hands relieved him of his fear, though they were a little cleaner than he remembered. Peter wasn’t a slob by any means, but he often had blisters from the way he gripped his dual blasters, and he had scraped knuckles after his latest combat training session. These hands - his hands? - were free of flaws.

“Good, you’re awake.” Her voice was sharper than his, blunt as the edge of her sword. It reminded him of the way she spoke to him when they first met - irritable, no-nonsense, condescending, almost. “We need to talk.”

“Uh, sure. What about?” He sat up, looking around. They appeared to be in some sort of sterile white room, the kind that made him think of evil lairs in futuristic movies, where they did unethical experiments on animals and humans. Shivering, he turned back to look at Gamora, noting the lifelessness in her expression. She had been so warm as of late, with her teasing grins and gentle smiles, that the utter blankness of her face made him feel colder than the room ever could.

“About breaking up.” She wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead electing to pull out her phone and start scrolling through...something.

“I - what? I thought you said we weren’t anywhere near - ”

“Your persistence may have won me over, but now I’m realizing how wrong you are for me,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Remember when you asked me what I looked for in a partner? Discipline, intelligence, level-headedness. You may have fooled me into seeing those qualities in you with your thoroughly detailed plans to pursue Thanos, but now I realize you’re still the immature, self-absorbed, impulsive child that you were when we first met. Not to mention your surprising lack of confidence in your own abilities, and your reliance on me to make yourself feel good about the decisions you’ve made. I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, and yet, you treat me like both your child and your parent. I’m not your pet project, and I’m not your mother, either. Your attempts to both take care of me and get me to take care of you are tired, your constant pursuit of physical intimacy with me is unwelcomed, and your crude sense of humor offends me. Therefore, I wish to be in this relationship no longer.”

It was like she had taken the Godslayer and pierced it straight through his heart. Frankly, Peter wished she had done that instead. “Gamora,” he choked. “You said I was different than how I was before - I’ve been trying so hard to be more responsible, for all of you - so I can take care of the team and be a good leader - but I know I failed you - please - “ He could feel his face growing hot, tears brewing in his eyes, his fingers trembling as he reached for her.

She got to her feet, looking away from her phone briefly so she could glance down at him like he was a particularly uninteresting bug she’d squashed beneath her shoe. Without another word, she turned and began walking away. He moved as if to stand as well, but found that he could not - his feet were now glued to the floor. Crying out desperately, he began tugging at his ankles, wondering why he was without shoes, and where they were, and what had happened, and what to do - when suddenly, something dropped out of the ceiling in front of Gamora, causing her to leap backward in shock.

It was Awesome Mix 2, the cassette tape that Ego had broken before Peter’s very eyes.

Brandy, you're a fine girl...what a good wife you would be...but my life, my lover, my lady is the sea…

“Gamora!” he yelled. He changed his strategy instantly, beginning to claw at the floor in a futile attempt to drag himself towards her. He could feel his fingernails breaking from sheer force, the pads of his fingertips starting to bleed. Peter froze when Ego suddenly appeared in a cloud of nothingness, crushing the tape under his foot into dust. “GAMORA!”

“Remember, Peter,” Ego said, his voice just as charmingly affable as ever, the sort of kindly voice that had gotten his son to follow him to his planet in the first place. “The girl is temporary.” With one swoop of his arm, he picked up Gamora by the neck and squeezed. Peter could only sob helplessly as she dissolved into ash, crumbling beneath Ego’s fingers.

“You already killed my mother,” he wept, slumping against the floor. “And now...my best friend...the girl that I love more than anything else...why? Why would you do this?”

“You’re letting the human side of you win, Peter,” Ego sing-songed, wagging a mocking finger at him. “We’re Celestials. Everything is temporary. We can’t let emotions get in the way of our one true purpose. If you don’t obey me, I’ll go after ol’ Yondu next. Or maybe Mantis. She did betray me, after all. And for what? Love?”

“You leave them alone,” Peter panted, struggling to prop himself up on his hands. “I don’t wanna be a Celestial, not if it makes me a maniac like you. Small ‘g’ or not, I ain’t playing god.”

“Shame,” Ego said, stroking his beard like he was in deep thought. “I always did like Yondu. Only met him a couple times when he was still with Stakar, but he was a feisty kid.”

“NO! DON’T HURT HIM!” Peter hollered, but Ego disappeared once more in a cloud of smoke.

His eyes flew open in shock, choking violently as he did, despite his mouth being bone dry. Peter began grasping around desperately until he found his Walkman, and with trembling hands, slid the headphones over his ears, hitting play.

And I love you so...the people ask me how...how I've lived till now...I tell them I don't know…

“Shit.” He began running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands like they’d offended him somehow. “That’s three nights in a row now.”

And yes I know how lonely life can be...the shadows follow me...and the night won't set me free...but I don't let the evening bring me down...now that you're around me...

______

Despite being more tired than usual, Peter practically sprinted to his morning class like he was going to be late (and he wasn’t, not this time). An unusual sense of relief flooded him upon seeing the telltale red fin, bobbing over the heads of their other classmates.

“Yondu,” he exclaimed, sitting down beside him and nearly tumbling out of the chair in his desperation. “You’re okay.”

Yondu’s eyebrows shot up immediately in suspicion. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I had a dream about Ego comin’ after you,” Peter confessed. “It’s stupid, but I was kinda worried I was gonna wake up and find that you were gone.”

“You’re right. That is stupid,” Yondu snorted. “I’m fine, boy, relax. Though you don’t sound so good yourself.”

“I mean, I’ve been better,” Peter said hesitantly. “Ego killed Gamora in the dream. That wasn’t so fun.”

“You two are ridiculous, you know that?” Yondu let out a hearty laugh like he was remembering a particularly funny joke, twirling his yaka arrow in a way that made the students around them look a little nervous.

“So I’ve heard,” Peter mumbled.

“I don’t mean no offense by it, honest. I still remember comin’ after you on Knowhere and gettin’ yelled at by her ‘cause you spent a lot of time talking shit about me. Guess she didn’t understand the...complicated parts of our relationship. But you been mooning after her ever since you met her, and now that you’re actually datin’, you’re still making a big deal outta everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the whole sleeping separately thing,” Yondu said, brandishing the arrow at Peter in a way that even made him jump. “Ain’t gonna make a bit of difference. You’re gonna be crazy about each other no matter what. So stop making yourselves miserable to prove a point. Y’all already did that when you were trying to pretend you weren’t in love, and look how that turned out!”

In lieu of a response, Peter glanced down at his phone. “I should text Mantis,” he mumbled. “Make sure she’s okay, too.”

“Fine. You don’t wanna talk about your girl. What’s this about peer tutoring I’m hearing?” Yondu leaned back in his seat, folding his arms, kicking his feet up onto the desk in a rather precarious manner.

“It’s a new thing they’re trying out,” Peter said as he tapped out a quick “doing the big brother thing and saying good morning” message to Mantis. “Some students have more experience in specific areas than others, so they wanted to do like, group sessions. And Gamora is still trying to get her fight clinic with Nebula off the ground, but she has to get it approved by the Director first.”

“What were you thinkin’ of? Gun-slinging? Weird-ass improvised strategies?”

“Communication and leadership, actually,” Peter replied, smiling a little at Mantis’s reply of “good morning :D”. She was the only other Guardian who used emojis as often as he did. “There’s also a family component to it, and you know, considering Groot’s basically like my kid, I can kind of help with that part, too. But, uh, I dunno if anyone considers me a good leader. They probably want Captain America or someone like him to tutor that class instead.”

His mind wandered back to what Gamora had said to him in the dream, all the harsh barbs she’d thrown his way, like she had taken millions of tiny needles and dug them into every square inch of his skin. It wasn’t like anything she said was new to him - it was all variations of things other people had said about him, or worse, to him - but it was the way she had said it, like she’d been dying to say it for weeks and wanted to get it all out in as little time as possible.

“I didn’t run the Eclector for too long, but I spent enough time with Stakar to know the diff’rence between good and bad leadership,” Yondu said sagely. “Bad leadership’s when people follow you ‘cause they’re afraid of what you’ll do if they don’t. Good leadership’s when people follow you because they know they the best version of themselves when they do. And that’s you in a nutshell, Quill. We’re all good because of you.”

“Weirdly nice of you, but I’ll take it,” Peter chuckled, clapping Yondu on the shoulder. “Thanks, Yondu. I don’t know why you keep ‘dad speech’-ing me but I think it’s actually starting to make me feel better.”

“You can talk yourself into a frenzy real easy,” Yondu shrugged, though he looked pleased. “Someone’s gotta get you outta your funk.”

By the time Peter arrived at his last class of the day, the usual spring in his step had returned, his mind occupied with thoughts of potential lesson plans for peer tutoring instead of the way the nightmare version of Ego (though really, wasn’t every version of him a nightmare?) had taken hold of his brain. He happily kissed Gamora hello, and was relieved to find that she didn’t notice anything different about him. Maybe they wouldn’t have to talk about this - he didn’t want her to get mad, or worse, worry about him unnecessarily.

They returned to the Milano in good spirits, discussing the semester’s curriculum and what their favorite classes had been so far. When they approached the loading bay, they could see Rocket and Groot sitting on the ramp, working on Rocket’s chemistry project together. Well, Groot was watching in rapt fascination. Rocket was trying his best not to swear every five seconds whenever he burnt his claws with the Bunsen burner. “Hey, should you be doing that out here?” Peter called.

“Live a little, Quill,” Rocket smirked, holding up his test tube as if to toast him. “No one ever got shit done by following the rules.”

“Nothing you said just now was true,” Gamora informed him haughtily, though she relaxed as Groot came running to wrap his arms around her ankles in greeting. She knelt to pick him up, bringing him closer to her face. “Hi, Groot. You have a good day today?”

“I am Groot,” he answered happily, nuzzling into her cheek. Smiling, she sat him back down next to Rocket, and she and Peter made their way onto the ship. To their surprise, Mantis was sitting on the couch with Drax and Nebula on either side, looking oddly flushed, her hands twisting in her lap.

“What’s going on?” Peter said, frowning. “Mantis, you okay?”

“We have almost cracked the case of Mantis’s infatuation,” Drax said eagerly. He sounded just as enthused as he did right before engaging in combat. “Would you care to help?”

“Drax,” Gamora said sternly, as Peter groaned behind her, slapping a hand over his forehead. “Leave her alone, both of you. If she wanted to tell you, she would.”

“Such a buzzkill, as always,” Nebula hummed, getting to her feet. “I thought you wanted me to take interest in the other’s lives.” Before she could retreat to her room, Gamora stepped forward to grab her sister’s wrist.

“Not at the expense of their comfort.” Gamora gestured at Mantis, who had curled into herself on the couch, looking just as withdrawn as the day they met her, like she wasn’t entirely all there. “Do your homework together, or help her make dinner, I don’t know. But do not emotionally torture her for your own pleasure.”

“Whatever.” Nebula made to move again, but Gamora only followed her down the corridor, her footsteps getting increasingly heavy.

“Nebula! I’m serious,” Gamora hissed, trapping her against the wall with her arm. “Mantis may seem more well-adjusted than you and I, but she grew up with a grand total of one person in her life, and I don’t need to tell you how screwed up he was. At least we had siblings to socialize with, as much as we despised them. She’s already experiencing new emotions for the first time by having her first crush, you don’t need to complicate it with your insistence on being hateful to everyone who happens to bore you.”

“She doesn’t bore me. Frankly, her romantic drama is far more interesting than yours,” Nebula retorted, rolling her eyes. There was something in the way Nebula had said it that made Gamora a little suspicious, as if...

“You don’t...like Mantis, do you?” Gamora hoped she didn’t look as uncomfortable as she felt asking it.

“Gods, no,” Nebula spat. “I just want her to get this over with already, or she’ll turn into Quill. His mopiness when he was convinced you didn’t like him was insufferable.”

“You want her to be happy,” Gamora translated, a grin beginning to form on her face. “Your persistence is admirable, but the way you’re going about it is not. Just leave her alone, and let her tell you about it when she’s ready, okay?” Nebula only grumbled and shoved her sister aside so she could make her way into her bedroom, though she didn’t slam the door quite as loudly as she usually did.

Still smiling, Gamora made her way back into the common area, only to be practically ambushed by Drax, who looked woefully ashamed of himself. “Gamora, I would like you to know that I have apologized to Mantis. Once again, my blunders have caused great distress to someone I care about, and I wanted to rectify it. It seems I still haven’t mastered the expectations of socialization.”

“You and everybody else in the galaxy,” Peter called from the couch, where he had an arm slung around Mantis. She looked completely at ease now, her sweet (if a little unsettling) smile having returned.

“Peter’s right, Drax, you aren’t expected to be perfect. But I appreciate you apologizing,” Gamora said, patting him on the arm. He smiled at her, nodding silently before moving into the kitchen to begin making dinner.

It was then that Yondu strolled on board, his boots clattering loudly against the metal grates as always, whistling idly, though his arrow remained tucked into his jacket. “Hey, losers,” he said cheerfully. Gamora rolled her eyes as she joined Peter and Mantis on the couch. “Quill, you tell Gamora ‘bout that nightmare of yours yet?”

“I - no, I - Yondu!” Peter exclaimed, agitated.

“Nightmare?” Gamora asked, leaning around Mantis to look at him. “What nightmare?”

“Dude, why’d you have to say that?” Peter groaned. Yondu held up his hands defensively as he threw himself down into the armchair across from them.

“Y’ told me about it, and you tell your girl everything. Figured I could bring it up just fine.”

“That doesn’t mean - ugh.”

“Peter. Your room, now,” Gamora said firmly, getting to her feet once again. Letting out a reluctant whine, he followed her down the corridor, ignoring Yondu’s wolf whistle trailing after them, and shut the door behind him. “Listen, I only ever ask for two things in relationships with other people. Trust, and honesty.”

“As you’ve said before,” he grumbled. She only gave him another warning glare in return. “You also said we were entitled to secrets.”

“Not if Yondu, of all people, cares enough to bring it up.” She sat on his bed, folding her arms over her chest. “Peter.”

“I don’t need you babying me, okay? I’m a grown man,” he shot back.

“Then start acting like one!” she yelled, causing him to reel in alarm. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose, falling silent for a full minute before looking back up at him, despondent. “Look...I don’t...I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. I don’t know what the difference is between being your friend and being your girlfriend. So if I’m being overbearing, it’s because I care about you in more than one way. Does that make sense?”

Peter sat next to her, resting one hand in her lap, and using the other to tilt her chin upwards so their eyes could meet. “I don’t know how to be a boyfriend, either. But from what I can tell, there really isn’t a huge difference between being a friend or a partner. After all, people always say, ‘date your best friend’, and that’s what we’re doing, right?”

“It is,” she said quietly, a rueful smile crossing her face.

“The only difference for us, really, is the physical stuff.” He paused, remembering one of the things she had said to him in his nightmare. “Gamora...I’m not forcing you to have sex with me, am I?”

“What?”

“Like, you’re not just having sex with me because you think it’s what I want, right? It’s something that you want, too?”

“I thought I’ve vocalized my desire, my consent, and my enjoyment very thoroughly,” she murmured, squeezing his hand. “Peter, I just want to know. You’ve told me about your nightmares before, what’s different about this one?”

“They’re...not the kind of nightmares you want to be having when you’re trying to be independent.”

“You dreamt about me dying,” Gamora guessed. At his surprised expression, she added, “My nightmares are of your death as well. It wasn’t exactly a hard assumption to make.”

“You didn’t tell me you were having nightmares,” Peter said accusingly. “Come on, now.”

“You’re right.” She slouched a little, defeated. “I apologize. It’s hypocritical of me to ask you to be honest when I’m not being honest myself. I’ve been having a few bad nights in a row, the last two featuring your death.”

“How did I die?” He was almost scared to find out, though he could make a reasonable guess about what it would be.

“Thanos.” Exactly what he thought. “How did I die?”

“Ego.” He turned to lie on his back, gazing at the photos they’d taken over the course of their fake relationship that he’d stuck on his ceiling long ago. They hadn’t taken any pictures since they started dating for real, but neither felt like they had to - there was no need to prove their relationship anymore. Gamora laid down next to him, her eyes also traveling across the photos. He briefly wondered what she was thinking about. “There was some...stuff. That the nightmare version of you said to me.”

“Was it about me trying to baby you?”

“It was a lot more than that. It was stuff that hit really close to home, you know? And hearing it from you...so angry and tired…” His breath trembled slightly as he trailed off, unsure of what else he wanted to say. What else could he say, really, that wouldn’t make things worse?

“Like I was saying,” she whispered, staring almost unblinkingly at the ceiling. “I don’t know what it’s like to be in a relationship, but ours is only a week and a half old, and it already feels like we’ve put too much at stake here.”

“Comes with the job, I think,” Peter offered. “Cindy was telling me that she thinks it’s the life that we live that makes us feel everything more intensely. We’re still learning how to be together, so we can’t give up yet.” He turned to look at her. “New idea - Mantis used her powers to help my dad sleep, right? What if we got her to do the same for us, until we get so used to it that we can sleep without her help and without each other?”

“That’s quite clever of you,” she admitted, brightening. “We should try that tonight, then. But in the meantime…” In one fluid move, she’d rolled onto her side, gripped Peter’s shoulders, and pushed him down, her knees braced around his hips.

“W - what?” he stuttered dumbly.

Leaning in, Gamora murmured, “You’re worried that I’m not having sex with you because I want to, but because you want to. But ever since escaping Thanos’s clutches, I’ve never done anything I don’t want to do. Now, we’re in here alone, the others know not to disturb us when your door is closed, and dinner’s not for another few hours. But I’m already hungry, and I’d like to put your hesitation to rest.”

Peter let out a high-pitched squeak he wasn’t proud of, but once Gamora began sucking bruising kisses along the column of his throat, he was pretty sure he couldn’t be held responsible for any of the noises that escaped his mouth over the following hour.

“Your inclination to leave bites on Quill’s neck where others can see implies you think other girls will want to steal him away from you, and I can’t imagine anyone would find Quill attractive enough to do so,” Drax said to Gamora once they’d emerged from Peter’s bedroom for dinner.

“He has his admirers,” Gamora said dryly. At Drax’s raised eyebrow, she added, “I know, I was surprised, too.”

“Hey!” Peter exclaimed, but was immediately distracted by the basket of bread rolls Mantis had waved under his nose.

“Mantis, are you free tonight?” Gamora asked, wrinkling her nose a little at the sight of Peter stuffing his face with bread. “I was thinking we could do some homework together.”

Peter shot her a look of what are you up to?, to which Gamora answered with a cocked chin that clearly said trust me. “Oh,” Mantis said, a little surprised. “I did not have anything planned. Sure!”

After dinner was over, everyone slowly dispersed to their rooms, aside from Gamora and Mantis, who remained in the common area, set up on the couch, their books and papers spread across the coffee table. “I talked to Nebula about leaving you alone,” Gamora said after they’d been studiously quiet for about two hours. “She shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.”

Mantis let out a soft chuckle. “You and Peter are always trying so hard to protect me. I appreciate it, Gamora, but I am not that fragile.”

“Sure, but I also have the responsibility of taking care of Nebula as well,” Gamora replied. “She can’t go around thinking it’s okay to treat people like that.”

Hesitant, Mantis reached across the couch to lay a hand on Gamora’s knee. “You both had to be mean to survive, didn’t you?”

Gamora swallowed, but the lump in her throat that had suddenly formed didn’t seem to be going away. “Yes. Nebula more than me, since I was Thanos’s favorite daughter. If the others were cruel to me, Thanos would be cruel in return. It was not out of actual care for me, though, it was so I wouldn’t get caught up in fighting back.”

“I suppose that is where you and I differ,” Mantis said, smiling sadly as she leaned back against the armrest, removing her hand from Gamora’s leg. “You were raised to be ruthless, and I was raised to be submissive. But I do not think either of us are like that anymore. We are somewhere in the middle.”

“‘Ruthless’ is a generous word to use.” Gamora idly flipped through the pages of the article she was reading on her holo-tab, not really absorbing anything she was supposed to take in. “I agree, though. We’ve both grown substantially since becoming part of this team. It would be interesting to see who we become when we graduate.”

“I am secretly hoping we do not leave Terra once that happens,” Mantis confessed. “I know the Milano is our true base, but it has become so comforting here.”

“I always thought Peter wouldn’t want to come back because of his mother,” Gamora said thoughtfully. “You know, he hasn’t actually returned to his childhood home? To this place called ‘Missouri’?”

“Maybe it would be too painful for him. He could need time, or perhaps never return at all,” Mantis suggested.

“Or he’s waiting for the right time.” They both startled a little at the sound of Peter’s voice. He was descending the ladder from the cockpit, where he’d been running a software check for the past hour. “How’re my two favorite girls doing?”

“We’ve gotten quite a bit done,” Gamora shrugged, Mantis nodding eagerly in agreeance. “Milano’s okay?”

“She’s steady,” Peter replied, smiling. “So, Mantis, before I forget, we have a favor to ask of you…”

______

“Good morning!” Mantis said cheerfully as she practically skipped into the kitchen, stealing Peter’s multigrain bread from the toaster before his reflexes could kick in. She plopped it down onto a plate and began rummaging through the fridge for some strawberry jam. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Like a baby,” he beamed. He was in too good of a mood to berate her for toast-stealing. “I’ll bet Gamora would say the same if she were here, and didn’t leave for class super early like a crazy person. Thanks so much, Mantis.”

“No problem,” she grinned in return, settling down at the kitchen island, directly across from him. “You should have asked me earlier. I was not aware you were both having sleep troubles. I do not like seeing either of you in pain.”

“How did it work on my dad?” He leaned forward on his elbows a little. “You said he was occupied with the thoughts of his children and the so-called Expansion. How long could he go without your powers?”

The smile on Mantis’s face faded a little, her antennae drooping as she lowered her chin to fixate on her toast. She began picking at it, crumbling it between her fingernails, her appetite lost. “He did not need it that often at first,” she said reluctantly. “When I was a young girl, I could not do it as easily, so he only asked it of me when he was really overwhelmed. But as I grew older and stronger, he would ask me to use my powers every night. Sometimes, even more than once per day, if he exhausted his cosmic abilities and needed to take a nap. It was like a drug to him. He was addicted to what I could do, and I feel that if we had left him alive...who knows what he would have done to get me back.”

“So...it would actually be dangerous for us to ask you to do it every night?” Peter’s heart sank.

“I would only advise it perhaps once a week, and even then, it depends on the person,” Mantis said, apologetic. “If you have an addictive personality, then your reliance could develop by the third occurrence.”

“Dammit.” Peter stood and turned away from her, pacing over to the living area, rubbing at his temples, head bowed. They had come so close to a plausible solution - he should’ve known this was too easy.

“I am sorry,” Mantis whimpered, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I should have told you, but you both seemed so excited at finding an answer, that I did not want to turn you down. I did not want you to hate me.”

“Hey, no, Mantis, we could never hate you.” Peter almost half-sprinted back into the kitchen to put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s our problem, not yours. You know, maybe this whole thing was a mistake to begin with.”

Mantis’s eyes widened. “You do not mean your relationship with Gamora is a mistake, do you?”

“No, no, of course not,” Peter said reassuringly, squeezing her shoulders one last time before stepping away. “But she might be right. We rushed headfirst into being together without talking about what it means.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you two are being very mature about it,” Mantis offered, smiling tentatively. “I do not think most couples would discuss these things until it is too late. But at the same time, I think you are both making it a problem before there is even a chance of it actually happening.”

“Honestly, that’s what I’ve been thinking too,” Peter admitted. “But you know how Gamora is about preparation and contingencies, and I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“Which is a sign you are very much in lo-o-o-ve,” Mantis sing-songed, the stiffness in her posture melting away in favor of playfully poking Peter in the cheek. Laughing, Peter swatted her away before moving to finally get another slice of toast going.

Predictably, Gamora wasn’t too pleased later that evening when everyone had returned to the Milano, in which Mantis confessed what she had been hiding from them. However, it was hard for her to remain mad at Mantis (it was hard for anyone to be mad at Mantis), and she forgave her by dinnertime. “Just don’t do that next time, okay?” Gamora said sternly. “Imagine the consequences if Peter had never asked.”

“I thought we was finally done with your relationship drama,” Yondu teased after the meal was over.

“We are never done being the ‘Quill and Gamora Show’, apparently,” Nebula sneered, kicking her feet up onto the length of the couch before Yondu could even consider sitting next to her. “Are you always going to be like this?”

“You know, for a bunch of people who tried really hard to get us together, you seem to have issues about us having issues, which, by the way - totally normal thing to happen for couples!” Peter exclaimed, accusatory.

“Let’s discuss something else,” Gamora said, joining him in the armchair, her eyes ablaze as she stared her sister down across the room, who seemed nonplussed, and as always, in a perpetual state of casual disinterest. “We’ve had a few jobs sent through the Director. We can put them off until October, but we should review them in advance and decide what to accept.”

“Whatever gets us units,” Rocket said gleefully, hopping onto the back of the chair to peer over Gamora’s head at her holo-tab. “Lemme amend that. Whatever gets us the most units. And none of them bullshit jobs with the Sovereign again.”

“Moving precious cargo?” Peter pointed at the one on the top of the screen. “That sounds a lot like ‘being shot at. Repeatedly’.”

“This one wants us to be bodyguards for a gala? That sounds vastly underwhelming and a misuse of our skills,” Drax said, hovering by Peter’s shoulder.

“What is this one about a duchess who claims to know you, Peter?” Mantis poked at the job in question, causing a profile to pop up. “Oh, she is very pretty.”

“Uhh - ”

“I am Groot!” A tiny wail caused everyone to jump, looking around wildly for the source of the crying. To their dismay, Groot had tripped over one of the metal grates (Peter really needed to make baby-proofing the ship one of his priorities) and gotten his hand stuck inside, and was now desperately tugging on his arm. Instead of leaping into action, Gamora found herself stumbling backward into the armchair. Peter shot her a perplexed glance before rushing over to help.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, Groot, just stop movin’ for a second,” he said soothingly, cupping his back. Rocket was already by Groot’s side with a screwdriver and a tub of grease he had grabbed at seemingly lightning speed. They worked in tense silence for a couple minutes, coating Groot’s arm with the grease and using the screwdriver to loosen the grate and ease him out. The others hovered nervously, except for Gamora who had seemingly frozen where she was. Finally, Groot was freed, immediately turning to bury his face into Rocket’s belly.

The others moved closer to console Groot - even Nebula was nearby, straining her neck to see how he was doing - but Gamora continued to remain seated until Peter kneeled in front of her, ducking his head slightly in an attempt to make eye contact. “Hey,” he murmured, reaching for her, but making no actual physical contact. “Can we talk? My room?”

Nodding wordlessly, she followed him down the corridor and, once again, sat on his bed as she did last time. “I dreamt that Groot was dying as well,” she said quietly, before he could ask.

“You don’t have to tell me - ”

“But I do,” she interrupted, letting out a hysterical laugh. “Because that’s what people in relationships do, right? They talk about their feelings, and spend all their free time with each other, and - ”

"Gamora.” He knelt in front of her again, cupping her face in his hands. “Breathe.”

They fell silent, aside from the steady, slow inhales and exhales as they took deep breaths together. “I feel like I’ve become an entirely different person, these past two years. But what kind of person am I?” she muttered, once the tremble in her chest had subsided.

“I can tell you what I think,” he offered. She nodded, wanting him to continue. “I think you’re someone who went from having to take care of herself to someone who wants to take care of others. But if I’m wrong…”

“That’s an apt description, if a little generous.” She smiled, bending to kiss Peter briefly. “I just feel like I’m not in control lately. Like I’ve turned over my emotions to be handled by everyone else, and I hate it.”

In all honesty, Gamora was angry at herself for being so emotionally volatile, and Peter could tell. She wasn’t used to losing control like this, to put it all out there for everyone else to see. She had gotten so used to watching Peter being so open - laughing, crying, making faces so full of expression, so full of life, that she had started to do it herself. Hell, they had all picked up so many of Peter’s mannerisms in their short time together, vocabulary that hadn’t existed to them previously, little quirks or habits that they had once thought to be annoying, and now had become subconsciously ingrained in their minds. It was like Nebula often said - Gamora had become too attached to ever let the others go, found it extraordinarily difficult to imagine a life without the team, and deemed it impossible to leave them behind.

“Then talk to me about it,” Peter said imploringly, his hands moving to rest on her lap. “Because you’re right. People in relationships talk. And somehow, we’re still really terrible at it. We never continued our conversation about signs of codependency, you know, the one we were trying to have on Saturday night?”

“Then what are we doing here? Are we healthy, or are we cause for concern?” she asked.

He didn’t respond immediately, instead electing to stand and then lie down on the bed, gesturing for her to join him. They rolled onto their sides, face-to-face, though didn’t touch. “Let’s find out.” At her furrowed brow, he chuckled softly and said, “Question. Do you think of me every minute of every day?”

The bluntness of his question caused her to snort. “What? No.”

“Do you always want me to be around?”

“Not necessarily, though I don’t mean that negatively,” she said slowly.

“Am I the only person who can make you happy?”

“You might make me the happiest, but you aren’t the only one.” Gamora was starting to catch on, another smile beginning to form on her face as she did so.

“Am I the only person you can talk to? About anything?”

“No. I have my sister and your sister.”

“Can you go an entire day without seeing me? Can you sleep without me being there?” Peter continued, determined.

A crease had formed between his eyebrows, and Gamora had the urge to reach out and smooth it away. “Yes to both,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t aware you were taking psychology this semester, Peter.”

“My answers are the same as yours,” he said, grinning. “So I’d say we’re fine. We’re co-leaders who happen to be a couple, but we don’t get weirdly obsessive over each other or fall apart without the other person around. That sounds perfectly healthy to me!”

She couldn’t help but grin back, relieved. Once he put it like that, it all seemed so simple. “So should we stop this stupid experiment of mine?”

“It’s not stupid.” He reached over to push her hair out of her face, tenderly tracing the silver in her cheekbones with the pads of his fingers. “You had good intentions. I just think we got ahead of ourselves here. I think we’ve just been worried about spending too much time together because we already hung out so much. But that’s because we were friends first.” He leaned in closer, their eyes locking. “Also, for the record? I’ve loved you for much longer than the three weeks it’s been since we first kissed.”

Gamora bit her lip, shuffling forwards so she could wrap her arms around his waist. He really did have a knack for throwing out casual statements of unfiltered sentiment like no one else did. It was the way he was in combat as well - catching people off-guard, throwing them off their game. But unlike his quips at villains, his words for her were always simply intangible tokens of affection. “Same,” she murmured, unable to form prose of her own. Maybe someday. “But what do you suggest we do now?”

“You said one week,” he shrugged. “So we’ll try it one more time tonight. No Mantis or anything. Let’s see what happens.”

“But you have your debate tomorrow,” she protested. “If you don’t sleep well…”

“One more time,” he repeated, kissing her forehead. “We’ll be okay. Also, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’ll come watch the debate? We’re the last pair to go, and you’d only have to leave class, like, ten minutes early - I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s not gonna be that interesting, but I just thought if maybe - ”

“Please stop,” she chuckled. “I’ll be there.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” She gave him a mischievous grin. “I’m curious to see how adequate you’ll be at making speeches under six minutes.”

______

Gamora stretched leisurely, yawning as she did so, rolling over onto her side and grabbing her phone off her side table. She hadn’t slept this well since Saturday night, even noticeably better than the previous night when Mantis had used her powers. Her back ached a little from the stiff mattress (they really needed to get a start on buying new ones), but she was otherwise well-rested, the dull strain in her eyes and sinuses from yesterday’s little meltdown having gone away with sleep.

She got dressed, grabbed an energy bar from the pantry, and made her way off the Milano to her first class, wondering what had changed. She had drifted off the minute her head hit the pillow, and only woke up once to get a drink of water. Her mind had been utterly clear, devoid of visions of a dying Peter or the horrid sounds of Groot’s pain, despite him being in very real pain yesterday. It was like her brain had forgotten about the whole ordeal in the first place, as if it hadn’t been plaguing her for the past three days, but that couldn’t have happened, could it?

Gamora went through all of her classes with relative ease, and received permission from Ares to leave combat class early to watch Peter’s debate (“You’ve already at the top of the class, just go already.”). She was weirdly nervous for him - he could make a damn good speech when the situation called for it, but a structured one could be cause for concern. He had come a long way from the rambling, oversharing, foot-in-the-mouth boy he had been when they first met, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t still worried about him going off-script.

She arrived at the lecture hall just in time to see Cindy sitting down after receiving polite applause for her opening statement. She scanned the room for open seats and was surprised to find one next to her very own sister. “I didn’t know you were taking this class,” Gamora whispered, slipping in beside her.

“I’m not,” Nebula replied, rolling her eyes. “Nothing good was on television, so I was hoping to get some entertainment out of watching Quill crash and burn.” Gamora could only shoot her a warning glare before the debate started again.

“The superhero origin story,” Peter began, taking his place at the center of the whiteboard. “It’s the kind of stuff that writers and creators can only dream of - and they have. At the risk of stating the obvious, it’s where we all started. And really, what determines where it ends? We carry so much of it with us, with every job we take, with every one person that we save.”

“Crash and burn, huh?” Gamora murmured, a sense of pride beginning to well up in her chest.

“I want to tell you a bit of a personal story. My origin story, if you will,” he added. “I don’t know how much you guys know about me - I’ve been told I talk a lot of crap - sorry professor - but I was kidnapped when I was a kid. Taken in by a bunch of super cool space pirates, just minutes after my mother died right in front of my eyes.” The room seemed to have sobered up, everyone falling silent as they watched Peter slowly pace around the front. “I managed to grow up pretty well-adjusted, pretty happy, all things considered. But what I wasn’t, was good.”

“I was never really concerned about being good. I didn’t think it was as important as being happy. I know, it sounds super selfish. But my priorities changed when I met the other Guardians, and after we did the whole save-the-world-and-be-awesome thing, I realized the kind of heroism I was capable of,” he continued. “You might be like, ‘what does this have to do with the psychological effects of your origins?’. ‘How does this prove that it’s a positive thing?’. ‘You’re just one example of a so-called good outcome from a bad history.’ But let me point out my teammates, and what they’ve also had to go through. I’m not saying that tragedy is a good thing - I don’t wanna romanticize trauma, because that shit’s not fun - sorry, professor - ”

“It could go all downhill from here.” Nebula sounded way too delighted for Gamora’s liking.

“I’d like to single out one person who really brings it home for me,” Peter said, trying his best not to make eye contact with the teacher, who was getting increasingly irritated. “My co-leader and best friend, Gamora.” He waved at her - she wasn’t even aware he’d seen her come in - causing several heads to turn. She sank a little deeper into her seat. Oh god, what was he doing? “I don’t think I have to tell you guys what she’s been through. I’m also not gonna tell you about her motivations, or her goals, or any of that stuff, because I don’t speak for her. That’s what gets me in trouble in the first place.” Laughter rippled through the crowd. Even Nebula looked somewhat pleased at the joke. “What I can tell you is who I saw when we first met, and who I see when I look at her now.”

“I saw a girl who suffered, and lost her family.” His voice broke a little on the last word. “I saw someone who had to take care of herself, and only herself, because that’s all she had left. But then she saw an opportunity to save other people, and she took it. Not because she wanted recognition or money, the way that I did, but because she knew despite all the awful things she had done in the past, she knew that this was the right thing to do. And that was it, really. She just happened to pick up a bunch of losers along the way, myself included.” More laughter rippled across the lecture hall. Gamora had leaned forward in anticipation at some point in Peter’s heartfelt story, gripping at the edges of the desk as it creaked, threatening to break under her fingers. “She was fierce and fearless. Diplomatic but headstrong, determined beyond belief. A real fighter, you know, and not just in combat. And guess what? She’s exactly like that now. The only difference is that she’s fighting for more than her own life. She’s fighting for the lives of everyone in the whole galaxy.”

“Quill is so incredibly gone for you, I may vomit,” Nebula commented.

“You might argue that her quote-unquote ‘backstory’ was finished when we arrived on Terra and joined this school, but I disagree. I think, like all of you, Gamora takes it with her every day of her life. The stuff she’s gone through, the life-changing moments that she’ll always remember. I think all of us carry a piece of our past with us because it’s what makes us who we are. Sometimes, it’s a physical item.” Peter turned to pick up his Walkman form the table, holding it up high for everyone to see. There were nods and smiles of recognition throughout the crowd. “Sometimes, it’s a memory. Or maybe it’s both, I dunno. And yeah, sometimes we need counseling, or therapy, or to beat up some bad guys to get us through the next day. But being able to wake up from a nightmare and still keep going is what makes us heroes.”

Gamora might have been biased, but she was pretty sure Peter’s applause was louder than Cindy’s as he sat back down at his desk. Nebula was quiet for the rest of the debate, and though her expression was relatively neutral, her silence spoke volumes to Gamora - she was impressed.

Cindy countered with several strong arguments of her own, the entire lecture hall tense with anticipation as they watched the two go back and forth. It was a spirited debate, though they kept it professional - Cindy and Peter were casual friends, there were no heated remarks made whatsoever. By the time they reached their closing statements, Gamora was smiling into her hands, attempting to hide it from Nebula before she could tease her further.

“There’s no denying that a lot of us have gone through some of the worst kind of pain to get to where we are now, and we probably don’t wanna remember it ever happened,” Peter said, making one last lap around the front of the room. “I’ve done things that I’m not proud of. I’m sure all of us have. But it’s naive to pretend that everything’s black and white - that we can divide every single event in our lives into good and bad. Which is why, in the end, I believe that where we come from isn’t something we just forget or shove aside. It shaped us, but it doesn’t define us. We can’t write off our histories and pretend we’ve been the people that we are this whole time. We can’t deny the things that have happened so we can be just a little bit happier now. We can talk to people about it, we can get help, but that’s where it all starts. Because we have to learn from our past - ” he waved the Walkman once more “ - to take charge of our own futures.” Peter smiled bashfully, almost shy. “Thank you.”

The lecture hall burst into polite applause - many students were starting to get bored by this point - as the professor approached Peter and Cindy to congratulate them on their successful debate. She then dismissed the entire class, causing most students to practically sprint out the door, hoping to catch the last rays of sunshine before early sunset. Gamora, on the other hand, made her way down to the front to approach Peter, who had his back to her as he packed his bag.

“I’m impressed,” she said, leaning against the table. Peter turned, his expression immediately softening upon seeing her. “I know you like to talk, but I have to admit - I didn’t think you would be very good at debate. You have a tendency to ramble.”

“I still do,” he chuckled, closing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He took her hand and began leading them out of the lecture hall. “I got a B minus.”

She frowned. “What, really?”

“Yeah. Prof was expecting me to look into more case studies to back up the facts, but there aren’t any on superhero psychology specifically - I mean, frankly, this school is the one writing those papers - which is why I went for real-life examples,” he replied, pausing to glance at her. “I had a pretty great muse.”

“Incorrigible,” she repeated, though she was blushing somewhat. “Your arguments. Were they part of what made you so confident about us being okay?”

“Sort of.” They passed through the rest of the campus, silent, as there was too much typical rowdy chaos happening around them - students chatting, showing off their powers, swapping study notes - the kind of noise that Gamora found herself glad to hear. Despite the occasional stare from other students, eyeing their clasped hands, she found she couldn’t be bothered by it anymore - she was pleased to be surrounded by people again, after knowing how eerie the school could be when it was utterly vacant.

The two of them didn’t get a chance to pick up their conversation again until they returned to the Milano, where the others were milling about, also engaging in rambunctious behavior. Sighing, Peter once again led Gamora to his room, ignoring the identical shit-eating grins on Rocket and Yondu’s faces that followed. “I think talking about everything that was bothering us and the kind of nightmares we were having literally made us sleep easier. When you first brought up sleeping alone, we probably got so stressed out about what could go wrong that it did go wrong. We didn’t have nightmares because we weren’t together, we had nightmares because we thought we would have nightmares.”

Gamora let out a defeated sigh, sprawling face-first across his mattress, unusually pliant. “I really don’t know what I’m doing,” she mumbled into his pillow.

“Hey, come on. Like I said, we’re learning together,” Peter said reassuringly, resting a hand on the small of her back. “We both have - or in my case, had - crazy homicidal dads, a laundry list of insecurities, and zero experience in relationships. Look how much we have in common!” He winced. “That was too much, wasn’t it.”

“Your sense of humor is odd and sometimes crude,” she began, turning to look at him consideringly. “But don’t tell anyone that I actually find you funny. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“So rude to me,” he faux-whined, laying down next to her, his entire arm now slung across her back. “Let’s make a deal. We stop talking about how bad we are at relationships, and instead talk about our actual relationship when stuff’s bothering us.”

“Okay,” she replied, smiling. “But I’m still terrible at being a girlfriend.”

“You help me deal with my crap, you’re really fun to hang out with, and you’re generally just a super cool, badass, all-around awesome person. For the record? You’re an amazing girlfriend.” Gamora chuckled, patting him on the chest affectionately. “By the way, this is the part where you tell me the same thing.”

“You’re adequate,” she responded teasingly. Her eyes flickered to meet his, holding steady, before leaning in to quickly peck him on the mouth. “And I love you.”

If he was surprised at her saying it first for the first time, he didn’t show it. “Love you too,” he mumbled, cupping her face. “Okay, so, here’s my plan for the rest of the night - we go back out into the living room, make out on the couch until the others get grossed out because it’s funny, then come back in here after dinner, we do homework like a bunch of bores until we fall asleep, and figure out the next step in our sleeping arrangements tomorrow.”

“Or we can determine it right now,” Gamora shrugged. “We share your bed, but I keep my room the way it is, for whenever we have fights. And I do mean ‘when’, and not ‘if’. I also get to steal your clothes whenever I want.

“I’m certainly not complaining,” Peter laughed, leaning in for another kiss. When they pulled apart, he looked oddly inquisitive. “Though I do have to ask about where you found my Flash Gordon shirt, because I swear I lost it, like, the week we got here…”

this one-shot was supposed to be like 8k words, but once again, like the main fic, peter and gamora just decided to have feelings all over the place and it turned out way longer than intended. hope you guys enjoyed it anyways!

some quick things - the song peter listened to after his nightmare was and i love you so by don mclean, which is a song peter has on his "for gamora" mixtape. also, there is a hint about the next one-shot hidden in here somewhere. finally, a brief summary of their nightmares if you skipped them over: gamora dreamed of hearing groot being hurt, and then witnessed peter dying (implied to be thanos's doing). peter dreamed of gamora listing all his insecurities as reasons to break up with him, and then ego showed up to kill her and threatened to go after the others.

once again, thank you for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you're enjoying this series :)

#starmora #peter quill #gamora #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fic #myfic #myfic: 20q #fifty years later and my tagging will still be inconsistent #but i hope y'all like this one!!

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