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screechthemighty · 1 year

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Hello, People Who Read My Resident Evil Fanfics, I'm back!!!! (May be back even more over the next few months, tbh. I don't want to make any promises, but Dracula Daily is hyperfixation-adjacent and getting back into RE4 Remake is up next on my content roster, so who knows?) AO3 link will be in a reblog, but here's the next chapter of catch me floating circles in my fish bowl!

catch me floating circles in my fish bowl - part three:

May 2, 2021:

“Zoe’s fine. She’s shopping at the grocery store like normal, at least.” Carlos showed him a picture on his phone. It took Ethan a second to recognize her. Her hair was all white, and she looked less desperately thin than he remembered. She was buying chips and standing next to a brick wall of a man with a serious case of resting bitch face. He looked familiar, but not quite familiar.

“Joe Baker?” Ethan guessed. “Glad to see she’s still got some family left.” Especially family like Joe Baker. If Chris was right, the guy had punched his way through the site to get to Zoe. He’s probably the only person in this mess more unhinged than I am. And he meant that as a compliment. “Thank you again for this. I know it’s probably paranoid, but with everything going on…”

How was he to know that the BSAA hadn’t gone after her? She could be just as valuable a resource as Ethan.

Speaking of…

“Still nothing from the BSAA?”

“Not that I’ve heard. I feel like that’s not gonna change until you leave. They don’t have a cause to investigate Blue openly and I don’t think they’d suspect Chris of bringing you here, so…” Carlos shrugged. “They’re probably keeping a closer eye on Terra Save. You have physical therapy today?”

Ethan’s mood soured instantly. “No,” he admitted. “I mean, I was supposed to, but I fell last time and they’re worried I fucked up my ankle, so we didn’t do much.” He hoped he didn’t look too petulant. “I know, if I hurt myself it could slow my healing down, I need to be careful…”

“Don’t forget it’s a miracle you’re walking at all,” Carlos pointed out. “You should still be bedridden.”

“Technically, I should be dead, but I get your point. Still, it’s just…”

Frustrating. It was all so damn frustrating. His self-appointed deadline was this month. He didn’t need to run a marathon or anything. He just wanted to walk on his own. Any patience he might’ve had for his body and its shortcomings had gone out the window now that the novelty of being alive had worn off.

“...to be clear, I’m asked this as a concerned friend, not as the guy responsible for you, but…they’ve got you seeing a therapist, right?” Carlos said. “Like…for your brain.”

“Yeah, they have,” Ethan said. “We’re still working on Dulvey. Turns out, almost being murdered under extreme bullshit circumstances is even more traumatic than just almost being murdered. Who would’ve thought?”

Carlos wince-laughed in a way that said he knew exactly what Ethan meant. “At least your guy has probably heard it all by now,” he said. “We didn’t have that when I was going.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think the chainsaw scissors threw him off.”

“...the fucking what?”

Ethan probably shouldn’t have found that funny, but honestly? It was a little hilarious that he could one-up Carlos in the weirdness department.

Just a little.

Mia had been avoiding her therapist.

She knew, objectively, that avoiding her therapist probably looked worse than anything she could have actually said in therapy. She knew that whatever she said would stay in that room, that even her criminal past was safe to talk about. She knew this could be helpful, that it might let her sort out her thought spirals and fears and her increasing discomfort with being around Ethan.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go. Going meant actually admitting to everything–to all these dark thoughts, to all the shit she’d done. The thought of saying it out loud and having another person hear made her physically sick.

But she couldn’t stay away forever, so she finally went, with the intention of appearing as put-together and fine as possible.

She failed within five minutes.

“So, you’re concerned that Ethan is pushing himself too hard,” her therapist said. Doctor Reid was a no-nonsense sort of woman, the kind who cut right to the chase. It probably made her a great therapist, but these days, it mostly made Mia want to kill her.

“Ethan’s…” Mia tried to think of how best to phrase it. “...selfless to a fault. I don’t want him thinking about me right now. He should be focused on himself.”

Dr. Reid nodded and wrote something down. “Am I correct in assuming you’ve had this argument before?”

Mia tried to stay calm. It was difficult when visions of every argument they had since Mia learned she was pregnant started dancing through her mind.

We matter, Ethan! You matter! He’d been so caught up in protecting Rose, even before she was born. She’d known the lengths Ethan had gone to protect her. Known that he would go just as far for Rose, if not further. It was part of the reason she’d been so afraid to tell him what the mold had done to them. If he’d come to the same conclusions they had–that the BSAA had been deliberately negligent to unknown ends–who knew what he might have done?

The sound of pen against paper drew her out of her racing thoughts. Dr. Reid must have taken her silence as an answer. “Have you discussed this with him at all?”

Mia forced her voice to stay flat. “I’ve told him it’s okay to recover at his own pace,” she said. “He knows that we’re safe.”

“Maybe, but there’s more to the conversation than that, I think.” Dr. Reid put her pen down. “Are you frightened of what your husband might do?”

Damn this woman. “Why would I be? He protects us.”

“And he nearly died doing so, twice. That’s difficult to discuss. Objectively, he’s not wrong. Protecting those you care about is noble. But the survivor’s guilt you would’ve felt…” She picked back up her pen. “...and the guilt I’m sure you feel now are still very real. It could be easy for him to forget that.”

Mia felt her jaw go tense. “It’s not about that.”

“What is it about?’

“It’s my fault…”

Damn it. Damn it. Doctor Reid knew about the Connections, of course she did, but that didn’t mean Mia had to bring it up.

Doctor Reid glanced up. “You blame yourself,” she said finally, “because you think your time with the Connections is the reason Ethan ended up the way he did?”

The plan was not to reply, but Doctor Reid just sat there, waiting for an answer. Screw it. If this woman wanted an answer, she’d get her damn answer.

“I don’t think. I know. If I hadn’t been working for the Connections, I never would’ve ended up in Dulvey and he wouldn’t have had to save me. That’s where he got infected. That’s where the Rose got infected.”

“And if the BSAA had been honest, Ethan would’ve been cured, or his condition would have been managed,” Doctor Reid pointed out. “Maybe if they’d been honest, you two would have chosen not to have children. If Mirand had left you alone, or never learned about you, Ethan wouldn’t have had to save you a second time. Yes, your actions were one of the dominoes, but they were also just that. One of the dominoes. Why do you think you should shoulder all the blame?” Doctor Reid paused. “Why do you think Ethan thinks you should shoulder all the blame?”

“I don’t think that. I…”

She didn’t know. And that was really the worst part. So much of her was convinced that he wouldn’t blame her, which was bad in its own way. But the anxiety, the guilt, had her convinced that he would. There was no version of the story where this ended well.

“If I may,” Doctor Reid said. “You worry about Ethan pushing himself too hard and you worry about him getting into danger again. I assume this worry is compounded by the fact that you blame yourself for everything that’s happened, which in turn makes you feel that you’re not worthy of that protection. These are very strong emotions that are going to impact your interactions with Ethan, especially since you’ve had these disagreements before. Do you think I’m wrong?”

“...no.” It was a miracle it hadn’t impacted things already–or, at least, that it hadn’t in such a strong way that Ethan had noticed and started asking questions.

“Have you tried communicating with him about what’s been bothering you? You said Ethan had been keen to talk in the past. Perhaps if you had some mediation…”

“You offer couple’s counseling, too?”

“Actually, I’d find a third party, but we do have those.”

Of course they did. Nothing like a viral outbreak to put a strain on a marriage, right? Mia nearly burst out laughing at the thought, but managed to keep it together. Barely.

“I’ll think about it,” Mia said.

And she would. She just had a feeling she already knew what her answer was going to be.

May 5, 2021:

“You’ve got to be absolutely shitting me.”

Credit to everyone in the room: they were really doing their best not to laugh, or were treating it just as seriously as Ethan felt. Because he was taking this seriously. Because it was bullshit.

“Everything I’ve been through,” he said, staring down the cold compress on his arm, “all of that bullshit. And I’m still…” The only thing that kept him from swearing was Rose being in the room, staring him down with a slightly concerned look. “...I’m still allergic to bees?!”

“It would seem so, yes,” Doctor Marshall said calmly. “Do you want to hear something reassuring?”

“There’s something reassuring about this situation?”

“Your body is having a normal reaction to the sting. Not an exaggerated one, and it hasn’t triggered anything else in your healing. That’s a good sign.”

Damn it, he had a point. “I guess,” Ethan grumbled. Then, “Bees?!”

Jill finally broke the no-laughing rule with a barely muffled snort. “Sorry…” Her pale blue eyes were lit up with amusement as she tried not to make eye contact. “...no, it sucks, it really does…”

That probably should’ve pissed him off more, but…okay, yeah, it was funny-not-funny now that someone was laughing. Ethan deflated a bit, a bemused sigh escaping past his lips. “Just please don’t tell my wife,” he said. “She worries about me enough as it is. You’re telling her I’m fine, right?”

“I’m giving Mia medically accurate information,” Doctor Marshall said. “Unless you want to withdraw her as your-”

“No, no, it’s…” Great, that just means that either she’s misreading the information Marshall’s giving her or the results are worse than I realized. He wasn’t sure he liked either option. “It’s fine,” Ethan said. He peeked under the cold compress again. “Does the medically accurate information include that this bee sting isn’t gonna kill me?”

Ethan thought he felt a shift in Jill’s mood after that comment. That feeling was confirmed as she wheeled him out. “Everything okay with you two?” she asked. “I don’t want to be nosy, I just know this kind of thing puts a strain on…everything.”

“It’s…” Ethan sighed. “Complicated. Conflicting support needs, I think.” That was what his therapist had said when Ethan tried to describe the disconnect between how they’d handled Dulvey. Ethan wanted to talk. Mia wanted to forget. Neither was wrong, necessarily, but it did contribute to why they’d been butting heads on and off before the village. They hadn’t started couples therapy yet. Ethan wondered sometimes if they should move that up the list.

I basically died on her. That can’t be good for her mental health.

“That’s always tough,” Jill said. She had that tone, the one that said she and Carlos had been through the same thing. That was so weird to think about. They seemed rock solid, the two of them. Then again, they’d been together for a while, and lived through a lot during that time. Nothing like practice to improve your communication skills. “The give and take of it all. You’ve got to be supportive without giving up your own needs.”

“And hers,” Ethan added, tilting his head towards Rose as she grabbed at his coat collar. That was definitely a complicating factor. “I keep trying to tell myself that all couples have these problems, but…they don’t. You can say it’s the same thing, but it’s not.” Maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe he was playing the trauma Olympics, but he’d kill for regular problems. He’d kill for so many of their problems to not be tied up in dumbass crime syndicates and undead werewolves and potentially world-ending bullshit. If he could swap places with the Ethan who’d lost an arm to a car accident, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Zero hesitation.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jill said. “I think that’s why I was never able to make normal friends. Almost everything feels minor compared to…” She gestured vaguely. “...everything.”

Everything was a pretty good summary of things. And that really summed up how shitty things were for the both of them. “How did you two make it through things?” Ethan asked. “I mean, if you’re okay with sharing.”

“Couples’ therapy,” Jill said without hesitation. “It helped with everything. Even the mundane stuff. And we talk to each other, as much as we can. It used to be a monthly thing when we were active duty. There was a lot happening and we wanted to make sure we had the time.”

That made sense, but it didn’t make Ethan feel any better. How were they supposed to do this when Mia still didn’t want to talk? He couldn’t force her. He’d tried, if he was being honest. It had only made things worse.

How much longer could they just let things stew again?

May 15, 2021:

Apparently, at least another week and a half.

Maybe the mounting anxiety had been a warning.

She’d known from the second she opened her eyes that today was going to test her. Mia hated to blame Ethan, because it wasn’t entirely him. She’d been slipping towards a shitty day for a long time.

But opening her eyes to see Ethan standing upright didn’t help.

“What are you doing?” Mia yelped.

Ethan nearly fell over. Fortunately, he’d been clinging to a chair to support him; it was the only thing that kept him falling down. “Shit!” he yelped back. Then, quietly, “Shh!”

Mia’s gaze darted guiltily to Rose. Fortunately, she was still fast asleep. “What are you doing?!” Mia hissed once she was sure her baby hadn’t woken up.

“I was cold,” Ethan replied. “I wanted a sweater.”

“I could have gotten one for you.”

“You were finally sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“What do you -” Mia took a deep breath. “Please sit down. I will get you a sweater.”

Ethan nearly protested. She could see it in the way that his shoulders went tense and his eyes met hers directly. But just as suddenly, he looked away, his shoulders slumping, as he sat down. Crisis averted, she allowed herself to think as she got up to get him a sweater.

That was stupid of her to think. She knew Ethan better than that. She should’ve known. Ethan only stayed quiet for as long as it took to get him the sweater. But once he was holding it…

“I don’t want to do this again,” he said.

Oh, no. “Do…what…?”

“It’s just…” Ethan sighed and rubbed his eyes. His fingers seemed to linger over the scar tissue across his nose. “Back in Europe, it felt like every little thing was an argument. But we never really got at why we were fighting. I don’t want to keep doing that.” He met her eyes again. “It doesn’t feel like you’ve been sleeping well. I haven’t always, either, and sometimes when I wake up in the night or when Rose wakes up, I can hear you…moving around, talking in your sleep. Like how you did after Dulvey. I can walk short distances and you looked peaceful, so I didn’t want to disturb you. You’re dealing with enough without adding sleep deprivation on top of that. I’m worried about you.”

She’d heard those four words so many times. She was starting to get sick of them. “I get that, I do, but you have…” Mia took a deep breath. “You have to start worrying about yourself. Ethan, you died a few months ago. If you get hurt again, if you’d fallen and hit your head…I have enough to worry about without worrying about you doing something stupid, okay?”

She knew, immediately, how harsh she’d sounded. It was starting to remind her too much of the argument they’d had that day in Europe…the one that had nearly been their last argument. Mia rubbed her eyes, hoping that she wasn’t about to start crying. “Please.”

“Okay, okay. No more walking without someone watching me,” Ethan said soothingly. His one hand reached out to rest on her knee. Even with the sweater sleeve covering it, she could vividly see the scar on his forearm. “Stressed about what, honey?”

About the fact that I almost got you killed. That they have to run tests on our daughter and it’s my fault. That you’ll find out the truth and nothing will be the same ever again. That nothing is the same already.

“Don’t do that,” Mia said out loud instead. “Please. You can’t fix everything, Ethan.”

“I’m not…you can talk to me, Mia. I’ll listen. No problem-solving, promise.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him. And even if she did, she couldn’t make herself say the words. “It’s…this whole situation,” she said finally. Not a lie, but nowhere near the truth. “It’s this whole situation.”

She was dodging. From the way Ethan looked at her, he knew she was dodging. She expected him to call her out on it. He always had before. Instead, he just looked sad. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

He hugged her carefully. Mia was able to embrace him back, but she hesitated at first, the surge of guilt getting the better of her.

She knew Ethan had felt that, too, but he still didn’t say anything.

If his problems had a face, Ethan would have shot them by now.

He guessed Ethan could say his problems had some physical form: his bones, his muscles, the injuries and scar tissue that had hobbled him, the mold that had merged with his cells and turned him into something not quite human. But he couldn’t exactly punch himself in the face. Multiple BOWs had already done that for him, and look where that had gotten him.

He could still be mad at himself, though. Either his body had betrayed him forever and this was just his life now, or he wasn’t trying hard enough. One of those answers was easier to accept than the other one.

Unfortunately, accepting the latter only made the moment that he ended up face-down on the floor in the middle of PT all the more painful.

“FUCK!” Ethan shouted as he flopped onto his back. He wasn’t bleeding, but he’d hit his face pretty hard. “Son of a bitch!”

“Easy…” His therapist helped him carefully sit upright. Tom was usually a pretty chill guy, and usually had the decency to not visibly worry so much when things went wrong. This time he looked worried. “Did you hit the bar on the way down?”

“I didn’t hit the fucking bar. Shit.” Ethan looked around instinctively. He knew Rose wasn’t there, but he couldn’t help double checking. He tried really hard not to swear in front of her. He was just so…

Ethan carefully touched under his nose, checking for blood. There wasn’t anything that he noticed, but he knew what was coming next. “Let me guess, this is the part where we take a break for the day? We’re done?”

The words came out in a snap. Tom didn’t take it personally; the worst part was, Ethan was so pissed, he only felt a little guilty for being a dick about it. He felt even less guilty when he was informed that this was, in fact, it for the day.

At least he could wheel himself around the facility now. It meant he didn’t have an audience for his frustration.

Ethan probably should’ve gone back to his room and lay down. The session had been draining as it was, and he was kind of sore from that landing. But he went down to the ground level and right out the front door. No one tried to stop him, thank God. They probably figured he couldn’t go very far.

He went further than he had before, right out the front door and out into the parking lot, all the way to the far edge. There was just a field out there, and a barbed-wire topped fence. Somewhere on the other side of that was the rest of the world.

A world that he might never get to be a part of again.

Ethan took a deep breath and screamed. It was wordless at first, but quickly devolved into a rapid-fire barrage of every swear word he knew. They could probably hear him inside, but he didn’t care. What were they gonna do? Force him back inside? Revoke his wheelchair privileges? It wasn’t like his day could get any worse.

Eventually his voice gave out. He sat in silence, just him, the midday sun, and the random cars. The sound of approaching boots broke that silence eventually. Ethan didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to guess who it was. There were only three people he knew who wore boots regularly, and one of them was out of the country again. “I can’t go back in there,” he said dully.

“Wasn’t going to make you,” said Jill. “So, how’s a parking lot for a mental breakdown space? I haven’t tried that one yet.”

Points to her, the comment did get a laugh out of him. It wasn’t the sanest sounding laugh, but it was something. “It’s, uhm…” Ethan tried to wipe some of the tears off his face. “...better than a bathroom, I guess. Air quality’s nicer.”

“Yeah, bathrooms are like a bottom three pick.” She sat down in the grass, in his line of sight but off to the left. Her white-blond hair caught the sunlight, contrasting it more sharply against the black hoodie she was wearing. It looked a few sizes too big–one of Carlos’s, maybe. “You want to talk about it?”

He did. Keeping it bottled up was killing him, and maybe Jill would actually understand what was going on here. But for a long time, the words didn’t come. He just stared down at his one remaining hand. It had been working fine lately–grip strength almost back to normal, no more freezing up at random, sensation much better. Why couldn’t everything go that smoothly? Why did this have to be so hard?

Hadn’t they all been through enough?

“...Mia and I’s anniversary is this month,” he said. “Ten years.”

“Ten years? With two disasters in the middle of that? Shit, that’s not bad.” Jill sounded genuinely impressed. “I’m guessing you wanted to get out of here before that?”

“No, not even that. I can handle being here if we really have to.” They were safe here, at least, and safe was all he could really hope for. “I just…I was just hoping I’d be walking more by then. I wanted her to see that I’m okay. And don’t give me the whole oh, you should be dead, who cares if you’re not walking yet speech. I care. I can’t…” He rubbed at his eyes desperately. “It’s not enough. I thought even a few steps would do it, but I can just feel her pulling away and she’s so focused on being worried about me that she’s not thinking about anything else and I can’t…I can’t see her like that. I can’t live through that again.”

He was bracing himself for more questions; what he got instead was a slightly bitter, huffing laugh. A sound of recognition. “Fuck, yeah. Been there.”

Ethan lifted his head. “Seriously?”

“Chris didn’t tell you? I was MIA presumed dead for three years.”

Chris had definitely not mentioned that. “Chris doesn’t really talk much about his BSAA days. Was this before you left?”

“Yeah. One of my last missions with the old crew, actually. It’s a long story, but Carlos was…” She sighed. “...he kept it together for me. And I appreciated that, I really did, but I knew it wasn’t going to last forever. It was just a matter of when.” She started rubbing her sternum as she spoke. Ethan saw her do that sometimes. “Worst part was, I knew that. I just had no way of knowing what would finally do it. It was just the one time, thank God. We were able to talk about it after that.”

“So what you’re saying is that she might have to break more before we can fix it?”

“No.” Jill hesitated. “I mean, that’s not wrong, but that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that what you’re going through isn’t abnormal. I don’t know if I can fix what’s going on with Mia, and I don’t think you can, either. She has to figure that out for herself, like Carlos did. But you know what kept me sane when everything went to shit?” She made direct eye contact with him then. She had such an intense gaze, her pale blue eyes seeming to stare right through Ethan’s skull. “You’ve gotta lower your expectations, man. I know that you want everything back to normal, trust me, I get that, but that went out the window three years ago. I’ve lived it twice. It sucks, every time, but if you try to force it, you’re just going to hurt yourself worse. Physically and mentally.”

Ethan forced his gaze away from her. It was stupid, all things considered, but he didn’t want her to see the tears starting to form in his eyes. “This sucks,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I know. It’s not fair. I wish it were. But you can make it work. It’s possible. And believe me when I say…she’s just happy you’re still here.”

Ethan didn’t doubt that. He just wasn’t always sure it was enough.

Maybe he was wrong about that.

“Mrs. Winters?”

Mia’s head snapped back up. Doctor Marshal was staring at her with a worried look. “Sorry,” she said. She rubbed her eyes. “I just missed that last part…were we talking about skin samples?”

“Yes, but they’re optional, and more for Ethan’s benefit. How is he, by the way?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. The conversation from that morning was still dancing through her head. The wounded look on Ethan’s face was burned into her eyelids. “He’s…still a little stir-crazy,” she admitted. “Nothing we can’t handle, I don’t think.”

“That’s understandable. How about you? How are you doing?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t sure she could lie, not when she had zoned out in the middle of the conversation. There was so much going on, so many things she didn’t have a handle on. “...can I ask you something personal?” Mia said finally.

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get past your old job? How do you…ever make up for something like that? After everything that happened…” Doctor Marshal’s face changed quickly, growing more closed-off than she’d ever seen the doctor. Damn it. “...I mean, I don’t know how much you were involved…”

“Bioweapons development and research,” Marshal said. “So, yes, I was involved. Not directly in Racoon City, I was never assigned there, but…only a few degrees of separation between my department and theirs. I’m sure members of the Nemesis team used my research.”

Oh. They had more in common than she’d realized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn��t have asked.”

“Don’t be. It’s a valid question.” Marshal sighed heavily. “Honestly, it took a lot of time. Joining Blue Umbrella helped. Actions feel more like atonement than words. But I had to accept at some point that I could be as sorry as I wanted, but I couldn’t change the past. Even trying to act like the past didn’t happen kept me stuck there. I wasted so much time trying to figure out how to dance around it that I may as well have been stuck in my room, blaming myself. I had to face it, admit it, figure out what I could do instead now, and move on. I still feel guilty now, but I’m not drowning in it anymore. It’s just a feeling. Usually a productive one.”

The difference between guilt and shame. Her therapist had brought it up. Mia was really starting to hate how much the woman was right about things.

“Not everyone is going to forgive us,” Marshall added. “That’s within their rights. That shouldn’t stop us from trying.”

“...yeah.”

They dropped the subject after that, but it stayed with her. It took up so much of her mental space that she almost forgot…

“You’re doing really good,” Carlos said suddenly.

…she’d had an extra set of ears in the hallway the whole time, looking after Rose.

“What?”

“At…all of this. Considering.” Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. “Just in case no one’s told you that.”

Carlos was an easy man to read. He reminded her of Ethan that way. She could tell he meant it. That didn’t do enough to ease the sudden dread in her chest. “How much did you…?”

“Nothing I won’t have forgotten by the end of the day,” Carlos said. “I’m great at keeping secrets. I can’t retain shit.”

That sounded sincere, too, and just self-mocking enough to get her guard back down. “That’s…”

Goot to know was what she wanted to say. It got stuck in her throat. She was barely able to hold back the alternative response.

I’m scared.

But Carlos seemed to understand anyway. He reached out carefully, only resting his hand on her shoulder when she didn’t move away. He had a reassuring grip, what she’d imagine a touch from a cool older brother or a non-shitty father would feel like. “Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.

“...no,” Mia whispered. The dread was back, joined by a heavier sense of resignation. “No. I have to do this myself.”

Deep down, she’d known it was inevitable. In fact, it was long past overdue. No matter what the outcome…

She owed Ethan the truth.

She wouldn’t be able to fix this until she’d told him.

#resident evil #resident evil village #fic: catch me floating circles in my fish bowl

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causalityparadoxes · 2 years

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Crash posts not appearing or posting later than scheduled is a staff lead conspiracy to disorganise the tumblrinas and keep us divided. In this essay I will-

#seriously tho the queue wasnt always a few minutes off right?#was this intentional cause they thought this might actually mess up the site or???#crash #tumblr crash #april fools

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tumbleweed-palmer · 3 years

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It Was Inevitable: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy Palmer falls into a sugar daddy relationship with Y/N, but what happens when he falls in love with her? This can only end in heartbreak. It's inevitable.

===========

Jimmy Palmer never would have thought he would wind up in a situation like this. He knows that sounds like such a cliché. It’s true though, he never thought he would wind up doing anything like this and it’s a mess. It is the definition of a mess.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He doesn’t know how things got so complicated so fast.

It all began with a case and a little comment from Tony.

The case involved a dead sailor and the revelation that said dead sailor was taking part in a sugar daddy type of “relationship” with a young woman. There was some suspicion that she might have been the one responsible for his death…and in a way she was…no she didn’t shoot the man herself, but another one of her clients did out of jealousy.

Tony had made some offhand remark about how these types of “relationships” always ended in a disaster.

Of course this had quickly prompted teasing from Ziva and McGee about just how Tony knew so much about these types of relationships…which had in turn resulted in Tony admitting he’d maybe looked at a website designed for the purpose of those types of relationships.

Or as Tony had put it. “It was research for a case I was consulting on. I chatted with a girl for strictly professional purposes…she was a nice girl, very hot, a total ten, but ya know…I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM. That kind of relationship just seems destined to fail.”

Jimmy couldn’t help but to hang on to the entire concept of a sugar baby.

Jimmy Palmer had always been terribly curious. It was a positive attribute to have, Dr. Mallard had always insisted. The first step to any type of learning was curiosity.

Then again didn’t curiosity kill the cat?

As hard as Jimmy tried to forget about the entire case his brain had clung onto the details. He had so many questions about sugar babies. How exactly did that type of relationship work? Did it feel degrading for either party? Did it involve sex or was it just about having companionship in other ways? What types of things did the sugar baby expect? What kind of guy was into a relationship like this? Was it like a business transaction or a friendship? And most importantly what type of girl was interested in this type of relationship?

Jimmy had found a website faster than he would ever admit. It was just to satisfy his curiosity he’d told himself.

Wasn’t Dr. Mallard always yammering on about the importance of understanding how people’s minds worked in their line of work? You had to understand how the human mind worked to understand how people could do something like shove an ice pick through someone’s heart or shoot a man in an alleyway. Perhaps having an understanding of how these types of relationships worked would make Jimmy a better medical examiner.

This was an educational endeavor Jimmy had told himself. He could make a quick profile, take a look around, and then his curiosity would be satisfied and he’d never have to think about this ever again.

For the most part the girls on the website had been kind of what Jimmy had been picturing. They were beautiful of course. However, it was obvious that a few of them weren’t even real people. Their photos and their profiles seemed a little too good to be real. They were most likely scam artists who’d stolen some photos of attractive women hoping to make a quick buck off some naive guy with a large bank account.

He’d been almost ready to give up and call his little educational experience a total bust when he’d spotted her profile.

It was her username that had caught his attention: Belle Mort.

Jimmy had taken a semester abroad his junior year in France. He still understood the french language just enough to translate her username: Beautiful Death.

The little sense of familiarity and the mention of a subject that his career revolved around had been enough to spark his interest and before he could stop himself he’d clicked on her profile.

She was different from the other girls on the site.

She was a few years younger than him; still in her twenties. She was a college student working on her masters. She’d mentioned her university fees were expensive and she was looking for companionship and a way to ease the financial strain. So, why not try an option that could offer her both monetary gain and companionship. She listed films and music she enjoyed a few of which Jimmy recognized. She seemed to enjoy art and overly sweet iced coffee. There were photos of her at museums and coffee shops. She posed in front of sculptures and paintings. She posed with a comically large iced coffee at an outdoor cafe somewhere. She was a beautiful woman. She wasn’t as in your face like the other profiles though. There was almost something elegant about her.

Her profile wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

He’d expected something kind of vulgar to be honest, like something straight out of one of the men’s magazines Tony liked to read at work when he thought Gibbs wasn’t looking.

Most of the other women on the site had been in bikinis and more revealing outfits. The outfit Belle Mort had worn in her main profile photo was sexy, sure, it hugged her body well, but the black sundress had seemed so much less intimidating than the other women’s clothing choices. The other women seemed dressed for a night of clubbing. Belle Mort seemed as though she could fit in at any cafe or farmers market in the DC Virginia area.

Her profile had made her seem less like some sort of sultry seductress and more like the girl next door. There was almost something playful about how she described herself despite the more serious tone of her username.

There was something about her that just seemed so approachable. She looked like the kind of girl Jimmy would spot at a coffee shop or maybe even on campus at Georgetown, but would never have the nerve to actually approach.

That was Jimmy’s big problem it seemed. Jimmy Palmer had never been too terribly great about approaching girls, especially ones who he found pretty. Most of his past flings and romantic encounters had been with women who approached him.

Jimmy wasn’t really the type to make the first move. He’d be the first to admit he was more the type to pine after a pretty girl but never quite work up the nerve to hit on her. He wasn’t the dominant type when it came to romance.

Jimmy had never really had that much confidence when it came to women. He was awkward at the best of times when it came to communication, but when it came to a pretty girl he could be hopeless.

Maybe that was what had driven him to click on the little message button by her profile. It was too easy to send her a quick message knowing that if he was rejected at least it would be over a computer screen and not in person. Being rejected online seemed so much less pathetic than being rejected in person.

The message Jimmy had sent had been so simple. Hi. So, Beautiful Death? Where did the inspiration for that come from? I’m Jimmy by the way.

He hadn’t expected to get a message back that same night and the message he had gotten back had only made him all the more intrigued. Hello. It comes from an essay I wrote recently on death and funeral culture in medieval era France. A little morbid of a subject, I know, but I guess it’s an odd little interest of mine. I’m impressed you caught the translation. <3 Y/N.

Jimmy had read the message over and over and over again. His brain picking it apart. He’d only grown more intrigued the more times he read it. And her name, he read her name a thousand times thinking it sounded so much nicer than Belle Mort.

He’d been unable to stop himself from messaging her back and had been delighted as she’d been open to sending him one in return.

This had gone on for a while, Jimmy working up his confidence to broach the subject.

He’d been unable to stop himself from admitting it to her. I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know how this works.

A sigh of relief had left him at the response she’d given him. Lucky for you I’m a bit new to this myself. There’s no correct way to go about this. We can figure it out together, that is, if you’re interested?

Jimmy was interested, he was very interested. He knew he’d sounded far too eager when he’d let her know that he was, but luckily for him she didn’t seem to mind.

She’d requested that he send her a photo of himself. He hadn’t gotten around to actually placing a photo of himself on his profile that he’d made when he’d signed up for the site. After all, he hadn’t signed up for the site with the intention of actually messaging anyone at all.

He’d been hesitant to send her a photo, what if this was a scam? Maybe she’d steal the photo and post it somewhere online to shame him? Maybe she was a hacker who’d hack into his contacts and send it and all their messages to his friends and family and anyone in his contact list? Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to shame him as some kind of pervert? Maybe she was planning on blackmailing him with this?

He’d ignored this fear though doing his best to take a photo of himself where he didn’t think he looked too horrible. He’d used a digital camera loading the photo up onto his laptop and sending the photo before he had time to second guess the choice.

He’d felt his cheeks flush at the response he’d gotten. I have to be honest Jimmy. You’re cuter than I expected. I thought you’d be much older. You’re a handsome guy. Are you sure you need me? I’m sure there would be plenty of girls who’d be happy to get to know you.

She calling him cute had caused a warm feeling to wash over him. She thought he was handsome.

He’d ignored the little voice in the back of his head that told him it was all bullshit; that she was just flattering him to get paid. It was nice to be complimented even if it was fueled by monetary gain.

He’d sent her a fast response. I need you, please.

That had been all it had taken. They’d exchanged numbers and after a few conversations over the phone, the first few pretty awkward to be honest, they’d managed to work out something between them.

It hadn’t been sexual, not at first. At first they’d just spent time together. He’d liked the companionship. He’d taken her to dinner and to art galleries. He’d taken her to museums once he’d realized she was a history major with the focus being on French history.

They spent their time talking. He felt like it was so easy to open up to her about whatever was troubling him. She never seemed to blink twice at the odder more macabre aspects of his job like most people tended to do. She didn’t mind that he could be anxious and she didn’t seem to mind that he had a tendency to be more awkward than he liked to admit. She didn’t even mind his puns or his terrible jokes. She seemed to like him the way he was.

She seemed to enjoy their time together or at least it seemed like she enjoyed it. She was so willing to praise him and compliment him. No one really praised him like she did. She was just there when he needed her. Even though a little voice in the back of his head told him her compliments were empty, he ignored that voice and soaked up her praise like a sponge.

She made it so easy for him to become so dependent on her. He wanted to please her. There was something addictive about seeing her happy and knowing he was the reason behind that happiness.

It felt like a friendship. In a lot of ways Y/N began to feel like Jimmy’s therapist/friend. He opened up to her about his worries and she listened and gave him advice. She was the first person he wanted to call whether he was having a great day or the worst day ever. She was where his mind went to in his quiet moments.

It felt like a friendship.

The little voice in the back of his head of course was always quick to remind him that they weren’t friends though…you didn’t have to pay someone for friendship.

He’d shushed the voice though, it felt too nice to spend time with her. He could pretend that this was something more than what it was he told himself.

Jimmy had the money to keep this up. His grandparents had long ago set up trust funds for his sister and he both. They’d made some smart investments and those investments had paid off.

Jimmy had never really been the materialistic type.

He might occasionally use the money to buy himself a gaming system or maybe a nicer tie. He’d used a little bit of it to put towards student loans. He mostly left the money alone though. Maybe it was the resentment he felt about it. His grandparents were on his father’s side after all, and his father had been such a bastard. So, in a way, using the money too often made him feel sick to his stomach.

Using the money on Y/N though, that didn’t make him feel sick. He told himself he might as well use the money on this. The trust fund was constantly growing with the investments and he might as well take advantage of it doing something that he enjoyed.

He placed money in her bank account when they spent time together. She didn’t charge him by the hour. It was one rate that they’d agreed on for each date. He’d been surprised at how easily she had presented all the fine little details of how this arrangement was going to work. She had given him her terms and had answered any questions he’d had about just what this arrangement would entail. She’d seemed to have it all figured out despite her admission that she was still pretty new to all of this.

It had become almost second nature to him, something he could do without even thinking, he slipped money into her bank account and went on with whatever they’d planned out for a date.

He did other things for her though aside from the payments to her account. He bought her gifts; flowers and perfume and a cashmere scarf he thought she’d like. Then he’d begun buying her jewelry. It was never anything really extravagant. It was mostly antique pieces that he was sure she’d like given her interest in history. She never asked for the gifts, he just liked the reaction he got when he gave them to her.

The gifts were what had led to their arrangement becoming sexual. She’d been the one who initiated it. The gifts were so nice she’d insisted, she wanted to do something nice for him as a thank you.

Jimmy had tried to insist that she didn’t have to of course, he hadn’t given her the gifts expecting anything in return other than the simple act of knowing he was pleasing her. She had insisted she wanted to do this for him though. And Jimmy had found that he was incapable of denying her this. He could admit that he wasn’t the most experienced guy on the planet at least when it came to the amount of women he’d been with. She was a beautiful woman and she seemed to want to please him. He was incapable of saying no to her. He’d let her take the reins on that front deciding to just go with it. How many opportunities like this would fall into his lap after all?

If anything this had made their arrangement feel more like a friends with benefits type of situation.

He could admit that the sexual aspect of this entire arrangement had only made things between them feel all the more complicated though. It was inevitable really, how could he share such an intimate action with someone without it meaning something?

They were playing a dangerous game and the longer it persisted the more Jimmy was beginning to realize his heart was going to be broken in the end.

It was undeniable how he felt about her. It was the only explanation for why she constantly seemed to be on his mind. It was almost pathetic really, he’d fallen in love with someone who he was paying to spend time with him. He’d fallen in love with his Sugar Baby. He was pretty sure that this was a recipe for disaster.

Lately this realization had seemed all the more apparent to Jimmy. Someone was going to get hurt if they kept this up, and he had a feeling it was going to be him. He loved her, but she could never love him. It was all so hopeless.

There didn’t seem to be any way of stopping the arrangement though, not now. He knew he could end it at any moment, but he remained helpless to do so. He was in too deep now. She had become such a fixture in his life. It was almost as though she was a siren calling him to what would certainly be his doom, but he was far too entranced to care. He needed her and he didn’t care if it would only hurt him in the end.

So that was maybe why it was so easy for him to reach for his cell phone the second Dr. Mallard stepped away for his lunch break leaving Jimmy alone in Autopsy. It took him very little time to find her number in his contact list and call it.

He couldn’t stop himself from sounding as eager as he felt as he spoke. “Hey, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you Handsome.” Her response came so naturally and he couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his lips at the sound of her voice and the little pet name she’d bestowed upon him.

He spoke up knowing he still sounded so needy. “Can I see you tonight?”

“Of course, what do you have in mind? I need to know how to dress for the occasion.” She asked.

The answer fell from his lips without hesitation. “Nothing too crazy. I was just thinking a night in with some take out, just…things have been pretty hectic lately. I just- I really need to see you tonight.”

“What time? My last class for the day ends at five.” She remarked Jimmy so fast to answer her.

“I won’t make it out of here until around five thirty if I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any complications. I’ll need time to shower though…so maybe seven would be best.” He admitted knowing he didn’t quite want to meet up with her smelling like the scent of decay and disinfectant that seemed to permeate around Autopsy.

“Sounds workable for me, Handsome. Any special requests for tonight? I know how much you love that black lace set I wore last time.” She replied, making an audible moan leave him as he clearly pictured the lace lingerie set she was recalling and just how much he’d loved the way it had hugged her body.

He spoke the words sliding from him without a second thought. “Whatever you’d like. I just want you to be comfortable.”

The giggle that left her only made his cheeks flush all the more the lust he felt for her only becoming more apparent. “Always such a gentleman. I may have to find something new to wear for you. You sound like you could really use a nice distraction tonight. You sound tense.”

He spoke his voice tight the words sliding from him without him even having to think twice now. “I am…I could use a distraction. I’ll make the deposit in your account. The usual amount.”

“Punctual as always, Handsome. I’ll let you get back to work. Those crimes aren’t going to solve themselves. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring the wine. No red, I remember you don’t like the bitter. I’ll bring a Rosé or a Moscato, something sweet.” She replied knowing him well enough by now to know exactly what he preferred.

He felt a deep sigh leave him as he hung up the phone. He was in too deep. There was no escaping this. He wanted her too much to escape this. He didn’t care if he only got to have her because of their arrangement. This was how it had to be if he wanted time with her. Sometimes he just wished things could be different.

………………………………………………………………………

They wound up on his sofa in his apartment with two wine glasses and some empty take out boxes set out on the coffee table in front of them.

She’d greeted him just how she usually did; with a kiss to the cheek. There were never kisses to the lips. The act of pressing her lips to his was just too intimate he’d guessed. She’d kiss him everywhere but his lips. He tried his best to deny how much the refusal to actually kiss him stung. He told himself he didn’t have the right to complain. This wasn’t a real relationship.

She’d followed his request for comfort showing up to his place wearing a more casual blouse with a pair of jeans and a loose fitting cardigan. She still had made an effort for him as she usually did; her makeup looking as flawless as always. She’d traded in heels for a pair of flats and had allowed her hair to hang loosely around her face.

She managed to look stunning even in a more casual look.

She’d made good on her promise to bring wine having chosen to bring a sweet rosé with her chilled and ready for them. The bottle looked expensive and Jimmy had resisted the urge to ask if he was the one who had paid for the bottle, deciding he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t like the way it sounded, so accusatory.

She sipped her wine, her eyes cutting over to gaze upon him not helping but to sense his less than cheerful mood. It was so unlike him. If she’d figured out one thing about Jimmy it was that the man seemed to be an endless ray of sunshine and joy. He always seemed so cheerful. It was kind of refreshing honestly, to be around someone who was capable of being so positive.

She had noticed over the course of their last few dates though that something seemed to be troubling him.

She spoke daring to bring it up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Handsome? You don’t seem like your usual self.”

He managed to glance over at her the answer dancing around in his brain. Isn’t it obvious, I’m in love with the last person I should be in love with. He spoke the lie sliding from him so easily. “Work has just been hectic lately.”

She managed to give him a small teasing smile. “So it’s been nothing out of the ordinary.”

He felt a small smile cross his lips at the statement. He had been pretty open about the somewhat hectic nature of his job. That was something he’d always liked about her, how she was willing to listen to him discuss his job without ever shying away or showing disgust at some of the more morbid aspects of it. He wasn’t accustomed to people not being fazed by his choice in career.

She spoke again the words sliding from her so easily. “If there’s something bothering you then you know you can tell me. I’d like to think I’m a pretty good listener.”

“You are, I mean- you are a good listener and I appreciate it. This is just something…it’s just something I have to figure out on my own.” He admitted knowing there was no way he could tell her the truth.

He spoke again before she had time to press him for more information. “What about you? Didn’t you say your classes have been really intense lately?”

She felt a small genuine smile cross her lips still a little impressed by Jimmy’s ability to remember these details about her life. Somehow he’d gotten her to open up to him just as much as he seemed to want to open up to her. There was just something about him that had made it so easy for her to trust him to open up despite their arrangement.

She’d only had this type of arrangement once before with another man, but it hadn’t felt like this.

She hadn’t been lying to Jimmy when he’d first contacted her. She was still new to this type of work. An acquaintance had encouraged her to give it a shot. It was an easy way to make money quick. You could set your rules and your own boundaries. It was a fast way to make a lot of money without having to work very hard.

Y/N was in desperate need for some form of income and the usual part time job just wasn’t covering it. It seemed easy enough. All she had to do was spend some time with some old wealthy guy and make a quick paycheck. She didn’t have to do a thing he didn’t want to do. She was the one in charge.

Her first attempt at this hadn’t ended well. The guy was too pushy. He hadn’t exactly respected her rules and she’d cut him off. No amount of money was worth the disrespect.

She was almost considering getting out of the business around the time Jimmy had contacted her.

Jimmy wasn’t what she’d been expecting. He was different from the usual men who had propositioned her on the sugar baby website. She was accustomed to old graying business men old enough to be her father who seemed to believe that sugar baby equaled prostitute.

Jimmy wasn’t some old graying business man who wanted her to put out because he threw money at her. He’d never really pushed her for anything more than she’d offered. Maybe that was why she’d been the one who’d offered to give him more. Jimmy had seemed just happy to have her company. She couldn’t help but to want to please him as badly as he seemed to rely on making her happy.

To be totally honest she couldn’t help but to depend on his happiness as much as he seemed to depend on hers. She couldn't deny the fact that spending time with him did give her some sense of joy. She could also admit that Jimmy did seem to be an interesting guy. Although, he seemed kind of lonely to be honest. It didn't feel like he had much of a social life outside of his coworkers. It seemed as though his career ate up so much of his time. His job seemed so sad really, but she couldn't deny that it was fascinating to hear about. She couldn’t help but to think he must see so many heartbreaking things at work though. She didn’t understand how he could be so positive in his line of work.

She’d been surprised when he’d sent her his photo. She’d been expecting another guy old enough to be her dad. Jimmy wasn’t that much older than her. She hadn’t been lying to him, he was a cute guy. She had to wonder why he felt the need to seek her out. She’d quickly realized why of course. He just seemed shy; almost painfully so. It was obvious that Jimmy Palmer was a little nervous around women. Hence why he had needed her. She’d figured she was doing the man a favor. She could help him build up his confidence. She had just never expected to like him this much.

He was unlike anyone she’d ever met.

Jimmy Palmer was dangerous.

The more she got to know him the more she began to realize this simple fact.

She tried to shush the thoughts in her brain trying her best to play it cool and stay as calm and collected as she always did with him. “Finals week is coming. It’s always stressful. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

He felt the words leave him without hesitation. “Maybe when it’s all over we can do something special to celebrate…Maybe we can take a trip or do something like that…anything you want….I mean if you don’t have plans. You probably have plans.”

She replied not helping but to dislike the way he seemed to deflate at his own suggestion when it hit him that she might have plans for the end of her semester that didn’t involve him. “I don’t have plans. I’m sure something can be arranged for us.”

She paused not helping but to tease him. “A trip might be nice. Though it’s a little dangerous to tell me I can have anything I want.”

He felt his spirits lift at the promise of more time with her. He felt the words leave him knowing his words rang so true. “I’d give you anything you wanted, no questions asked.”

She chuckled at this statement, her hand pressing to his cheek not help but to be amused at the way he leaned into her touch. She managed to speak ignoring the warm feeling that washed over her at the way he was staring down at her. “Like I said, a dangerous promise to make me, Handsome. You should be careful I might just take you up on that offer.”

He cleared his throat remembering something he’d been hanging on to with the intention of giving it to her in a few months. He’d planned on waiting until her semester ended but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it to her early. Seeing her happy always seemed to lift his mood.

He could admit this gift was something special. The second he’d spotted it his mind had gone to her. To be honest he may have bought the particular gift with the hopes that the message behind it would read out loud and clear to her without him having to even say the words.

He felt the words leave him as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “I have something for you.”

She watched him disappear to his bedroom not helping but to be intrigued. The gifts he gave her were certainly always a surprise. He’d never seemed to have any expectations with the gifts he gave her, but she always felt the need to thank him. What better way to thank him than by pleasuring him?

It was something she hadn’t exactly done in her previous arrangement. She’d always figured it wasn’t a line she was willing to cross with a client.

She could admit that it had been easy to bring intimacy into her arrangement with Jimmy. He was an attractive guy and he seemed so eager to please her. He seemed determined to make her feel good. She figured it was a good ego boost for him, she was doing him a favor helping build up that confidence. If anything she figured it was a job perk for her.

Still she could admit that the more times she allowed their arrangement to cross this line the more complex her feelings towards Jimmy became.

She didn’t have much time to hyperfocus on the complexity of her feelings as Jimmy reappeared holding a small gift bag.

She took it from him as he sat down beside her, the words sliding from her. “I’ll never say no to a present.”

She widened her eyes, a bit stunned by what she pulled from the gift bag. The necklace was contained in a little velvety pouch. She felt a little breathless as she stared down at the red garnet hanging from a golden chain.

Jimmy spoke the words falling from him. “I remembered you said it’s your favorite gemstone.”

He paused remembering how she had told him quite a bit about it during one of their dates to a museum. There had been an exhibit on gemstones and he’d found that Y/N knew quite a bit about the subject. He could remember hanging on to every word she’d said. “From what I remember of what you told me, garnet was actually one of the most popular stones used during the Victorian era. You also said that it’s actually associated with pomegranate seeds and that according to greek mythology it was associated with Persephone.”

She nodded her head amazed he’d even recalled this conversation. “It is. It’s associated with pomegranates due to the red hue. It goes back to the myth of Hades giving Persephone a pomegranate so she would be bound to the underworld and would have to return to him when Spring ended. So greek mythology associates it as a gift to give an estranged lover with the hopes they will return to them. Greeks used to exchange garnet to travellers as a token of safe travels.”

Jimmy cleared his throat easily remembering more of what she’d told him. He spoke unable to stop himself from saying it, his true feelings spilling from him. “Garnets are also supposed to represent friendship and…love, they’re supposed to represent passionate love.”

She parted her lips, hesitant to ask him if that’s what this necklace represented to him, but she didn’t have a chance as his cell phone began to ring, breaking his gaze from hers.

He cleared his throat as he answered his phone, his brow furrowing as he listened to the person on the other end of the line for a long while before actually speaking. “Yes, Dr. Mallard. Of course, I’ll be there right away. I understand.”

Y/N didn’t speak until he hung up the phone the moment they’d shared over this newest gift too far away to grasp again.

She cleared her throat trying to play off her true feelings. “Work calling?”

“Yeah, dead petty officer found in a dumpster behind a diner.” Jimmy admitted trying not to give away too much knowing he couldn’t exactly risk breaking evidence protocol.

She gathered her coat and her gift placing the necklace in her purse as she headed for his front door.

Jimmy walked her to the door, Jimmy and she staring at one another for a brief moment. He felt himself lean closer to her, everything in him screaming to take his chance. Everything in him screamed that he had to show her what he was trying to say with the necklace. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had to show her how he felt before it drove him insane. He needed more than this arrangement. He couldn’t fight this any longer. Even if it hurt him he had to try.

She turned her face from his silently rejecting his attempt to press his lips to hers as she spoke. “Be safe at work.”

Jimmy felt his heart ache at what was so clearly a symbol of her rejecting how he felt. Of course she couldn’t feel the same. Of course this wasn’t real.

“I will, thank you.” He stated his eyes turning from hers as she pulled from him.

He closed his eyes, his heart cracking as he fought the urge to chase after her. Her reaction to his attempt to kiss her had told him all he needed to know about how she felt. She didn’t want him, not in the way he wanted her.

He could distinctly hear a voice in the back of his head that sounded all too much like Tony’s repeating the same words Tony had said months ago. I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM.

A Human ATM, of course, that’s all Jimmy was to her. He was a fool to ever hope for more.

………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N found herself sitting up in her bedroom, the garnet necklace sitting in her hand, her mind going ninety miles an hour. The necklace, that damn necklace. Why’d he have to go and do that? Why’d he have to do this?

The other gifts hadn’t been so intimate. The other gifts hadn’t meant anything. They’d been innocent gifts; a perfume she liked, a pair of earrings she thought was pretty, a nice silky robe that cost a bit more than she’d usually feel comfortable spending on one item of clothing, a dozen roses, a pretty red cashmere scarf.

Those gifts had been nice of course, but they hadn’t had any meaning behind them, not like this necklace.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. She wasn’t supposed to get attached.

It was inevitable a voice in the back of her brain told her. She’d taken him to bed, it was bound to happen. That kind of intimacy meant too much for it to just be another part of their arrangement.

That had been her first mistake; taking him to bed allowing him to make love to her more than once.

It was just supposed to be sex, but then again was sex really ever just sex?

Maybe that was why she’d always told herself she’d never sleep with a client. Jimmy had made her throw out those rules so easily though. She’d given in to her own lust and it had bit her in the ass.

She may have never allowed him to press his lips to hers, but that hadn’t stopped those feelings from blooming within them.

Why did Jimmy have to be so sweet and charming and so kind and funny? Why did he have to be him?

This had been a mistake. This entire arrangement had been a mistake.

She’d realized it was a mistake from the start. She’d realized it was only going to end in disaster when she’d realized that she actually enjoyed her time spent with him.

She’d gone into their arrangement expecting it to be just like her previous experience where she had to smile and tolerate someone for a few hours knowing that it would be well worth the paycheck.

She didn’t have to tolerate Jimmy. She didn’t have to pretend with him.

She genuinely enjoyed being with him. Her heart lifted each time a call from him came. She felt a feeling of such warmth and adoration wash over her anytime he told her he needed her.

It wasn’t fair.

She had known she was fucked when she’d started feeling guilty about the deposits he’d placed into her bank account. She’d known she was well and truly screwed when she’d had the realization she’d like to spend time with him for free.

Her mind went to him far more often than she wanted. She remembered stories he’d told her or little habits he had. She remembered far too much about him for it to be just an arrangement between them.

What was she supposed to do now?

He clearly wanted more if this necklace and that almost kiss meant what she thought it meant.

This was no foundation to start a relationship on.

What were they supposed to tell people when they asked how they met? He was my sugar daddy and after he dropped a crap load of money on me I realized I was in love with him. He bought me a garnet necklace and I couldn’t deny how I felt about him anymore.

She knew how that made her sound. People already had enough to say when they found out about her little side hustle. People assumed the worst. Finding out she was dating a client would just reconfirm people’s worst assumptions about her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely heard her roommate enter the room, a small frown crossing the girl’s face. “What’s with you?”

Y/N sighed ignoring the question choosing to ask her own question. “What do you need?”

Her roommate shot her a sheepish smile as she spoke. “Can I borrow that dress you have? The green one? I have a date.”

Y/N nodded her head giving a nonverbal answer, her brain easily sliding back into her own loop of despair over this entire mess.

Her roommate spoke a small sigh leaving her. “Why are you at home? You’re usually out with the Sugar Daddy on the weekends.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh her voice tense. “He had work.”

“That doesn’t explain why you look like someone pissed in your cheerios.” Her roommate easily remarked Y/N rolling her eyes at this statement.

She spoke, deciding to just be honest about it. “Shit’s getting complicated with him.”

Her roommate spoke easily, guessing the issue. “He’s getting a little too attached?”

Y/N sighed hating to admit it out loud. “He’s not the only one.”

“Shit, well what are you doing to do about it?” Her roommate dared to ask Y/N feeling her heart crack as the only possible solution came to light.

She had kept her profile on the sugar baby website though she hadn’t had any other clients but Jimmy. She’d had no reason to. He paid her well enough to only keep him. To be honest, it had seemed almost wrong to take on any other client but him even though it was something she knew some girls did.

She sighed remembering all those messages in her inbox. She’d gotten some messages pretty recently actually.

This was a sign. She should just admit that this couldn’t last forever. It was time to let Jimmy go. He could find someone else. He had worked up his confidence with her. It was inevitable that this couldn’t last. He had to move on with his life. She ignored the way her stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else. This was for the best. She had to do the smart thing for the both of them. She wasn’t right for him. A relationship with him wouldn’t work. She needed to set him free.

“I can’t do this with him anymore. It’s time to move on.” Y/N stated hating to admit it. It was the only way this could end though.

It was inevitable.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jimmy Palmer knew he’d screwed everything up.

She wasn’t returning his calls. She wouldn’t pick up when he called her. She didn’t respond to any of his messages.

It had been weeks now and it was so obvious she was ignoring him.

He’d really gone and messed everything up.

He’d lost her. Then again was she ever his to have?

How did it all get so screwed up?

He knew how, it had all gone to hell when he’d fallen in love with her.

His despondent mood was apparently noticeable to everyone despite his unwillingness to open up about it.

He couldn’t imagine anyone would understand how he felt anyhow. They would all just judge him if they knew the details behind this entire mess.

Dr. Mallard had tried to get him to open up, but Dr. Mallard was the last person Jimmy wanted to know about this entire situation. He wasn’t sure his mentor would approve of any of this. He wasn’t sure Dr. Mallard would have much sympathy for him.

Apparently his mood was so low that even Tony had taken some sympathy on him and in a very uncharacteristic Tony act he cornered Jimmy in the hallway outside of Autopsy fast to speak to him before Jimmy could say no. “You and me Autopsy Gremlin. We’re hitting a nightclub. I don’t know what your issue is but it’s nothing a night out can’t fix. I am speaking for everyone when I say we’re sick of watching you mope. I’m guessing that a woman is the only reason behind why you’re so moody. We’re going out tonight. I feel sorry enough for you that I’ll even be your wingman. You need a rebound and you’ll be good to go.”

Jimmy wanted to say no, but he’d found himself unable to get out of it as Tony had shown up at his front steps and had practically dragged him out of the apartment.

That was how he’d wound up here in a dim nightclub, the neon lights making his head hurt, the music far too loud.

Tony had already tried to get Jimmy to talk to a few girls, but Jimmy wasn’t willing to play along with any of this.

Tony had long ago given up and had promptly ditched Jimmy to go hit on a group of girls that were part of a bachelorette party. He’d tried to drag Jimmy along with him insisting that bridesmaids were always up for a fun night, but Jimmy had resisted.

He’d found himself alone at the bar debating the best way he could escape this nightclub and go home.

He sipped his drink knowing that the alcohol would only make him feel worse.

He let his eyes scan the club the smiling faces of the other patrons doing nothing but making him feel even more terrible. There were so many couples here. Seeing them so happy and in love just made his heart crack all the more.

Why was he like this? He should have known that it would end like this. This was bound to end in heartbreak.

He almost dropped the drink he was holding as he spotted her. It couldn’t be. No fate wasn’t that cruel was it?

It was Y/N and she wasn’t alone.

He felt his stomach turn as he watched the older man she was with slide his arm around her leaning in far too close to her.

She’d told Jimmy that he was her only client. Had it been a lie? Or had his love pushed her away into the arms of a new client?

He felt a wave of jealousy wash over him at the sight of her suitor. The man was much older than him and to be honest Jimmy thought he looked kind of scummy. Sure his suit was nice, and he was handsome enough. It was the way he was gripping onto Y/N though. He was holding her far too tight in Jimmy’s opinion.

As much as he wanted to turn away he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

He felt that jealousy boil down to anger when he watched the man lean in closer to Y/N whispering something in her ear. Judging by the look on her face she didn’t like it because she made an attempt to pull away. Her suitor apparently wasn’t pleased with this and took a tight grip to her arm yanking her back towards him.

Jimmy felt himself moving before he had a chance to second guess himself.

He felt the words leave him squaring his shoulders trying to make himself look far more intimidating than he felt. “Hey, leave her alone.”

Y/N stared up at him, the color washing from her face. Of course he was here. Why would fate be any kinder to her?

The guy stared up at Jimmy seemingly unimpressed with his attempts to look intimidating. “Back off buddy. This is between me and her.”

Jimmy didn’t back off his voice still firm knowing he at least had the advantage of being taller than this guy. “You need to let go of her. She’s trying to get away from you.”

Y/N spoke trying to smooth this all over before someone got hurt. “Jimmy-”

She didn’t have a chance to continue as her suitor spoke. “You know him Doll? You didn’t mention having any other clients.”

He glared up at Jimmy fast to speak again. “Listen Jim, I don’t know how much money you’ve given her, but I’m paying her tonight, not you. I dropped a good bit of money on her tonight so I suggest you back off and let me get my money’s worth. You can have her back when I’m done with her. Trust me, I’m having some buyers remorse right now so you might get her back sooner than later.”

Jimmy felt his fists clench as he spoke. “I’m only saying it one more time, let go of her.”

“Or what huh? Are you serious? You’re willing to get in a fight over a whore?” Jimmy saw red at the statement and raised his clenched fist allowing it to collide with the man’s nose, a crack sounding out audible even with the club music beating around them.

The man let go of Y/N to clutch his nose, blood pooling around him he cursing.

Y/N sighed grabbing a hold of Jimmy’s wrist as she spotted a very annoyed club bouncer making his way towards them apparently having spotted the situation.

She dragged him from the room speaking to the bouncer trying to smooth over the situation. “I know, My boyfriend saw that guy harassing me, he’s had too much to drink. I’m taking him home. Please don’t call the cops we’re leaving.”

The bouncer glared down at them, his voice gruff. “Just leave the premises and don’t come back.”

She sighed yanking Jimmy behind her heading out the entrance and around the alleyway her face flushing with embarrassment and rage.

She spoke, unable to stop herself from sounding pissed. “What in the hell was that Jimmy?”

Jimmy spoke his own anger still so apparent. “You’re welcome for defending you from a creep.”

“I had it handled. I didn’t ask for your help.” She snapped back her arms crossing as she tried to control her anger.

Jimmy scoffed at this, shaking his head. “Oh yeah, you looked like you had it all under control.”

“What’s your problem. Last I checked I’m allowed to have other clients besides you.” She remarked glaring up at him.

“You said I was your only client.” Jimmy exclaimed, unable to stop himself from saying it.

Y/N sighed shaking her head as she spoke. “You were. This was my first date with this guy.”

He spoke, needing to say it. “It’s going to be the last.”

She glared up at him ready to tell him that he had no right to tell her what to do, but he spoke again the words that left him making her defenses crumble. “I just-the way he was touching you. How he talked about you, I couldn’t stand it. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, no one does. Even if this arrangement between us is over, I can’t stand you being treated that way.”

She felt a lump develop in the back of her throat, her voice soft as she spoke. “I won’t see him again…I actually…I think I’m done with this whole Sugar Baby thing.”

She crossed her arms a little tighter ignoring the shiver that ran through her. She regretted not wearing a coat tonight. The little red dress her client had sent her for tonight was more revealing than she’d usually wear.

The message from this client had been sitting in her inbox for almost a month now but she’d just replied to it earlier this week. Against her better judgement she’d agreed to a date almost immediately. She thought it was necessary if she wanted to forget Jimmy Palmer.

Jimmy sighed, spotting her shiver, taking her by shock as he took off his own coat draping it over her shoulders.

She held it against her hating the feeling of warmth that washed over her both at the warmth of the wool coat and the sweetness of the action. She managed to speak averting her eyes from him. “Thank you.”

The two stood in silence for a moment unsure of where to go from here. What could they say in a moment like this?

Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft and broken. “Why did you have to do it Jimmy? The damn necklace, why? You made everything too real.”

Jimmy sighed knowing exactly what she was asking. He spoke unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

She closed her eyes, a deep sigh leaving her. Jimmy spoke again needing to just say the words. “I love you Y/N, I love you. I know our situation isn’t typical, but I can’t deny how I feel.”

She shook her head, her eyes beginning to water as she gazed up at him. “You can’t be in love with me.”

“Why not, give me one good reason why I can’t.” Jimmy replied far too stubborn to let this go.

She spoke the words coming to her so easily. “Look at how we met Jimmy. Everything about this thing we have, it was all you paying me for my time. We never even had a real date where you didn’t pay me for my companionship. How do you even know what you feel for me is real?”

“I don’t care if I was paying you. I don’t care how any of this started. I know it’s real. I feel it everytime I look at you. I can’t deny how I feel about you Y/N. I love you. My mind is always with you. Anytime I have a moment of peace my mind goes to you and it feels like my heart is always with you. I can’t stop myself from loving you. I may have been paying you, but everything between us has been real. I’ve always been myself with you and I think I trust you enough to know that you’ve always been yourself with me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before you. It’s real to me. I love you.” He insisted reaching out, taking her hand in his relieved that she didn’t pull it away.

She shook her head still wanting to deny this. This wouldn’t work. Couldn’t he see it? “What kind of foundation is that to build any kind of relationship on? You can’t be in love with me not when it started like this. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met me? Are you really prepared to deal with people assuming the worst about us?”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. If they can’t accept how I feel about you then I don’t want them in my life.” He insisted his hand not leaving hers as he stepped closer to her.

He stared down at her speaking from the heart needing to say it. “We can start again if that’s what it takes. If this can’t be our foundation then we can build a new one. We can start over.”

He paused letting go of her hand and holding his hand out to her as he spoke. “Hi it’s nice to meet you, my name is James Palmer, but my friends call me Jimmy. I work as a medical examiner’s assistant for NCIS. I’m currently taking classes to become a Dr. Palmer so I can take my medical examiner’s license exam. I like overly sweet coffee and I’ve been told I tell really terrible jokes. I’d like to take you out on a date, actually I’d like to take you on several dates.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips both hating and adoring that he was this sweet. Could he be right? Could they build an entirely new foundation? Could they start again?

She stared up at him, the answer so obvious. It was inevitable really. They’d set themselves on this path the second she’d responded to that first message he’d sent her. There was no denying how she felt.

She gave him her answer, leaning up her lips pressing to his. He managed to realize exactly what was happening easily, his hands pressing to her face deepening the kiss, it being everything he’d dreamed it might be.

She spoke as she reluctantly pulled from the kiss her voice soft. “I would love to go on several dates with you. As long as I can pay for some of those dates.”

He gave her a soft smile, his lips pressing back to hers as she spoke. “I love you Jimmy.”

He smiled into the kiss it growing in passion so effortlessly.

She spoke her voice soft as she once again pulled her lips from his. “I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore. I think I’d rather just be yours.”

He pressed his lips to hers the answer leaving him before his lips met hers. “I don’t want to be your Sugar Daddy anymore. I’m already yours.”

#Jimmy Palmer #Jimmy Palmer x Reader #NCIS #Jimmy Palmer fanfic

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rigelmejo · 3 years

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I’ve read parts of this article on Pride and Prejudice translation three times now and so I suppose I should share it.

Misinterpreting Jane Austen? A Feminist Perspective on the Chinese Versions of Pride and Prejudice

http://jasna.org/publications-2/persuasions-online/vol38no1/yi/

It really makes me think about how easy it is to have huge themes in a work just lost or muddled intensely if they aren’t paid particular nuanced focus to during translation. How each line could have more nuance to it then a surface level “any synonym will get the point across” and how just lacking cultural context can cause big points in a sentence to be abandoned in translation (the use of “rational creatures” in Pride and Prejudice is a huge reference to bringing up feminist thoughts, but read literally could be translated as ‘i think’ or ‘i’m reasonable’ or ‘i’m regular’ and could miss a big chunk of meaning being conveyed). Meaning is usually lost somewhat in translation because its hard to maintain the nuance of the original words, even if you know all the context and are prioritizing themes in each sentence! So of course its a struggle.

I just think its something to be mindful when engaging with translations in general. And certainly webnovel ones where so often the translators are fan translators with various skill levels in language and/or translation and/or in meaning of the deeper themes of a text, and paid translators on big webnovel sites, often translating under time constraints to do a job Fast rather than ‘as close to accurate as possible’ which could take a lot more time. That’s not even getting into the machine translations (and cleaned up mtls) of webnovels, that some actual webnovel sites use (which can have very little if any editing done), and some fans do when its the best/fastest chance to ever read the novel (in which case even if its edited by people for improvements over time it will be constrained by the original mtl translator program’s failures in word choice and unawareness of story nuances). It’s already a mess to judge a work of art made in another culture, without being aware of that culture’s artistic goals and norms and expectations etc. Those values must be acknowledged, because to judge it as something outside its context removes so much. That applies to translations too - which can maybe be interpreted on their merit as localizations. When there is one - like maybe Drakengard 3 and if its localization changes were a good or bad thing for its story in the context of an english speaking market? or if Final Fantasy XV localization changes were? which i imagine the localization teams themselves had to judge its work on. On the case of like “how does this work as a localization” but still the questions of its original context in its original lanuage, intent, comes up. Do you get rid of ramen in favor of a different food? Do you get rid of San and say “Mr” - what is kept, why is it kept, does it require outside understanding of context, is that worth keeping even if it does?

Like perhaps the pride and prejudice translator changed “rational creature” to “ordinary person” because they wanted to abandon explaining the feminist idea of “rational creature” altogether, considering that context too far removed from a translation, and instead decided on making the line mean more broadly “like a normal person my rejection is serious - i’m not playing a silly game with you.” which is roughly fair in meaning, but has lost the concept of “i’m rational like Any Person, even though you consider women irrational that is incorrect.” I see why the translation could have made sense to do - and its what i’m sure localization translators deal with deciding every day - “what do we keep for overall story’s meaning understood by this new target audience?” versus “what details do we abandon at the cost of nuance, because it might make it harder for this target audience to connect to the overall story?” etc.

My point i suppose is just, sometimes I see arguments about webnovels and their meanings as understood BY the translation. And many people much better with words than me have made good points that one can’t judge a work based on english speaking culture standards when it wasn’t made in that context, was not aimed at that target audience, and has context surrounding it that in general an english audience will not be aware of. Just to add to that - the translations themselves.

The translations also are going to have context missing, or have changed some context and nuance to translators tastes. Like localizing to try and make it more comprehensible to the audience, or because the cultural reference needs some ‘equivalent’ the translator thinks the english audience will be more likely to know - i immediately think of Word of Honor choosing “chevalier” for “daxia” and “river of lethe” and greek myth metaphors, instead of the actual concept the dialogue refers to (and Word of Honor was professionally translated). Even among professional differences - just look at The Untamed that has different versions translating “zhiji” as bossom friend, good friend, soulmate, and gongzi as Childe, and names as just a whole range of weirdly varying ones different from what’s actually said. A lot of webnovels are not professionally translated (and of the ones that are, if they have speed deadlines they also might not get an ideal amount of time to decide how to ‘most accurately’ maintain the nuance, if that’s even a goal of a specific translator because different translators have different goals).

Not only is it not something created in the english audience culture (so why compare it on those specific cultural expectations it wasn’t made for), but also each translation is not going to be a fully accurate depiction of the original. Every translation will vary. Some translations will leave out cultural nuance, or even change it, or just not notice it was there to begin with. Word choice alone will change the meaning of some sentences and dialogue - and it can be as simple as one seemingly straightforward word change (like “rational creature” in Pride and Prejudice). Translation changes can affect the meaning you get from a story when its done professionally, when its been done and tried different ways multiple times for decades! Surely translations done for webnovels are going to have points where its like... to judge it is to at most interpret this translator’s work. Because there isn’t a full picture of the original work, a translation can’t give you that. Like others have said, its not great trying to expect works from different cultures to match up to a different culture’s expectations/aspects, but then also translations themselves will fail to retain aspects - or will all highlight such aspects in different ways and also in different ways for the reader to interpret (leaving more original context with footnotes, simplifying details and removing authors nuance, changing context to try and come up with an equivalent the reader might understand easier, etc). And that doesn’t even cover how any machine translator usage is going to also be destroying so much nuance, context, meaning, and even changing it in random ways - if its used for any of the steps, before the translator’s personal goals even start affecting the translation’s shape and meaning etc.

I have a huge newfound respect for the people translating Haruki Murakami... if Pride and Prejudice is this easy to change themes on/interpret differently even though its overall a very straightforward novel structure, I can only imagine how hard Haruki Murakami’s meanings and themes are to preserve...

#rant #april #translations #i just think about this a lot.#1 its a big reason i'm considering reading the mdzstranslations group's version of mdzs - i suspect #a number of complaints about mdzs come from translation choices. because that's been true with much of mxtx's writing #i saw the 'simple' svsss translation (which is fine and i like it) and a newer one ppl did and the newer one is WAY MORE NUANCED #and its like reading a trashy pulp novel to reading an Actual Novel with Depth and that could actually make me cry. All cause of translation #choices. Priest's writing too... i can thankfully read it in chinese (tho i still miss a ton of cultural nuance obviously)#and in english its translation is SO simplified it misses so much atmospherically and in mood. it makes priest feel like a 'less great write #' but then i read Mo Du/Silent Reading? And edanglarstranslations is one of my FAVORITE translators #i have the chinese novel and when i read? or listen to the chinese audiobook? it matches up wording wise and feeling wise so WELL with #EDanglar's translation of the novel. so translating work affects so MUCH how the story is interpreted. and nuance lost is like seeing a #masterpiece through blurry glasses and fog. u can make out the main impression and if its good then it will touch ppl even in translation.#but the style of translation/choices will effect how BLURRY the audience sees it - whether its black and white or blurry colors. whether its #50 ft away or a mile. it will always be blurry unless read in its original language AND by someone who gets its context/culture. but some #parts can be clearer depending on what translators choose to do. and Which parts are clearer depends on them.#its part of why i usually want to learn to read the languages i Do read? because i hate the blurry picture lol. i want to make it clearer to #myself what they originally intended. even tho its still blurry to me In the language. i at least get more of the original Feel even if #details still get lost on me.#just... whenever i think of this article it reminds me how MUCH translation is an art form with choice #and also how much a translator works - none will likely capture and retain everything in their goal even IF they want to cause #they're all bound to miss some things or have to sacrifice some things #perhaps i should say. we see a blurry image of the original IN a translation. but the translation itself is like an artist REDRAWING a #masterpiece FROM a blurry reference. the translators work IS crisp but details are off/changed/less nuanced/differently nuanced #to see a translators work as identical to the original is wrong because like. no its like an artistic rendition with creative liberties of #a reference image they cannot replicate (because they're using paint and paper and the original is clay with paint missing the translator #cant guess the exact colors of and the translator only has 3 photos of the sculpture. and the translator cant sculpt so they must draw #and a 2D painting just isnt the same u know.

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just-another-hhazbin · 4 years

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Tumblr ate my draft but my memory generally works so here we go. THIS IS TO THE ANON WHO ASKED ABOUT “VOODOO DOLLS AND W*NDIGOS IN RELATION TO that uh that one show called uh, fuck, uh - oh “THE GRIMM””

Obviously, I have not watched the Grimm so I cannot say based on that show’s portrayal in particular, but if it’s like most pop culture representations, it’s... probably pretty inaccurate and disrespectful.

First off, let’s preface this with a note about closed religions and my own credibility (or lack thereof) when it comes to talking about this topic. Obviously, it’s always best to speak with a direct practicioner/primary source. Since there is a relatively small population of those and none who I can call on for this, you’ll have to do with a secondhand source that’s gathered information through research and talking with their indigenous friends and other primary sources etc. If you are a practitioner of either of these religions/groups of religions, feel free to add input/corrections/etc., I am still learning and am only human.

Since the other ask is about w*ndigos too and this is my second time writing this, I’m just gonna address that over there.

So, voodoo religion, cultural appropriation, the whole shebang -

Voodoo is a closed religion, often practiced alongside/incorporated with Catholicism, and while it is stated as okay to study it respectfully/etc., it is considered disrespctful to practice if you have not been OfficiallyTM initiated into the religion. (There is apparently a ceremony, but I don’t know much of the details. If it helps, think of it as a baptism. Which it kinda is. But anyway-)

There are many types of “voodoo” religions, such as Haitian Voudou, Cuban Vodú, etc. What we’re discussing today is in regard to Louisiana/New Orleans Voodoo.

Voodoo is an amalgation of Voudou/Voudon religions practiced by many indigenous people in Africa along with Hoodoo and Catholicism that occurred due to the forced introduction of African peoples into both America and Catholicism via the slave trade. Hoodoo is described as a spirituality by some and a religion by others, but all see it as a lifestyle either way. Hoodoo focuses on herb/rootlore, medicines, and rituals, and is part of where the “witchcraft” stories of voodoo began to originate.

Because God forbid anybody know natural medicines instead of using leeches/bleeding or drinking a mercury and vodka tonic.

*Ahem.* Continuing on, apparently some areas of Louisiana refer to Hoodoo as “Lowcountry voodoo,” though I couldn’t find any information as to whether that was an accurate or respectful term, so. Just remember that they’re very closely tied and overlap in many ways.

Overall, Voodoo draws on Catholic Saints, Voudon gods and traditions that have been slightly shifted into more Saint-like figures + other changes, and Hoodoo practices.

Now that the general introduction is over, let’s focus on the example brought up - voodoo dolls.

The commonly known “fact” of voodoo dolls is that you make a tiny image of a person you hate and then stick it full of needles to cause them pain/kill them/whatever. This is wrong. Throw that out the window and set it on fire.

It is true that voodoo dolls exist and that they are meant to replicate people. They are a form of gris-gris, which can be thought of as a charm or prayer meant to bring good luck/etc., though there are some forms of bad luck/negative gris-gris as well.

The purpose of the voodoo doll itself is to serve as a representation and medium for the Voodoo spirits - the Loa, composed of ancestors and guardian spirits - to act through. (I don’t know if any of the major Saint/deity figures are ever invoked through this or if it’s just the Loa.) Most voodoo dolls are used as well wishes for others, and what type of wish depends on what is pinned to the doll. Rose petals for love, garlic or clover for luck, place between blue and white candles for healing, etc.

It’s about praying for someone else and creating a medium for that prayer, not stabby mc-stab time. This and many other false images around voodoo are a consequence of cultural appropriation - hence why it’s become such a concern. Media (looking at you especially, “White Zombie”) created a very false image of voodoo which the tourism industry facilitated in the name of capitalism. This disrespectful portrayal has not only caused widespread misinformation about one of the important aspects of the Voodoo religion, but also painted a bad light on the religion as a whole.

That’s why cultural appropriation is so dangerous. It’s alright to respectfully try to study and learn more about other cultures and religions, but that knowledge needs to be used and portrayed carefully and it’s often not, even if no malicious intent is meant.

It’s hard to find good information about voodoo on the internet, but some sites that might be worth checking out (or at least carefully reading through and plucking out actual information are):

https://thestockade.com/the-truth-behind-voodoo-dolls

https://voodooneworleans.com/voodoo-religion/

https://www.frenchquarter.com/true-history-faith-behind-voodoo/

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/r7g5ar/from-benin-to-bourbon-street-a-brief-history-of-louisiana-voodoo

https://kwekudee-tripdownmemorylane.blogspot.com/2012/12/louisiana-home-of-voodoo-worship-in.html

https://wheninyourstate.com/louisiana/what-is-that-voodoo-that-you-do/

https://www.learnreligions.com/voodoo-gods-4771674

https://www.vianolavi

e.org/2017/06/22/ghede-voodoo-spirits-in-new-orleans-traditions/

https://www.livescience.com/40803-voodoo-facts.html

Beware any and all tourist sites, for the record.

I’m working on compiling information about Voodoo to separate fact from fiction and etc., but at the moment it’s a slightly edited, jumbled up copy pasted mess as I go through, comparing/contrasting info and writing summaries/notes on it. I can share it if anyone is interested, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#asks #anonymous #louisiana voodoo #closed religion #input welcome #religion tw #religious discussion tw #not putting a tw on voodoo because that's a stigmatism and implication i don't want to spread #but is there a tw for discussion of stigmatized voodoo?#idk #stigmatized voodoo tw #shrug #long post

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mrs-nate-humphrey · 3 years

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So I have a curious question: as both a writer and someone who genuinely seems to care about Dan Humphrey and his character arc, how would you handle the concept of a "dark!Dan" arc, given the chance? As much as I HATE Dan's season 6 storyline and Sara Goodman's handling of the "dark!Dan" thing, I can't help but feel that there's a small nugget of something interesting there. S6!Dan was clearly written just to prop up Chuck, but I wonder what might have been if the writers still cared about Dan.

this is actually a difficult one to answer, mostly because i have too many thoughts. well, here’s to trying! (to the surprise of Nobody, this got pretty long!)

uh so, the thing i noticed about dan on first watch but became even more clear while i was rewatching certain episodes is that he’s very... passive isn’t the right word, nor is tolerant, but at the same time, something along those lines? dan keeps quiet when people hurt him or disappoint him - he doesn’t really do anything with that hurt. notable example is vanessa’s coming back? vanessa tries to pick up where they left off, and dan sorta goes along with it to the extent where both jenny and rufus need to tell vanessa that things aren’t how they were before when she left + that she actually really hurt dan - because dan isn’t telling her this himself.

basically, dan seems to be, by nature, VERY non-confrontational.

given this, i feel like dan’s whole exposé thing in s6 is very out of character - being like “oh yeah i’m going to actively ruin the lives of the people around me and show no remorse!” feels super uncharacteristic to dan, especially out of the blue like that.

when it comes to “tolerance” - i don’t know what better word to use, but throughout the show we see a few instances in which dan spends time with people he doesn’t like, for his own benefit or simply because it’s easier than getting out of that situation. for example, him hanging out with chuck for the charlie trout story, despite regarding chuck with the highest distaste - he puts all that aside because he needs that story, and he’s determined to get it, because he wants to succeed so badly. to some extent, i think that is bad writing (i don’t see dan forgiving someone who hurt jenny that easily or that casually) but at the same time it does fit in with the rest of dan’s character - imo he forgives georgina too easily in the s3 arc, which. does he really believe that she’s changed? maybe! but it feels weird to me because it’s like, while dan seems to have such high morals for himself he doesn’t really care what his friends are like, which i think is INTERESTING.

based on how you interpret the show canon, dan i think has had somewhere between 1 and 5 friends before the whole thing with serena, & most of these friends are his family (which is sad, i mean. rufus is rufus, alison LEFT, and jenny’s his little sister so there’s definitely things he can’t possibly talk to her about) or vanessa, who left pretty abruptly and hurt him pretty badly. i think given this, it makes sense that he would get into really weird and unhealthy friendships, because he doesn’t have much experience with healthy friendships and ends up just settling.

when we’re talking about dark!dan, these two things become super essential to me - dan’s non-confrontational slightly passive attitude to his friends, and the fact that he, potentially, could get in unhealthy friend groups and not realise it. i joke a lot about how the dan & georgina dynamic in s6 was my favourite part of the season, but it’s not actually a joke!! i can see how like. dan is still “friends” with georgina, and georgina loves to call the shots, and dan doesn’t mind doing what he’s being told. georgina for the most part seems sympathetic to dan’s problems, and dan, enabled by that friendship and her being there with him, goes and causes absolute havoc. sounds right! like, not the exposés themselves, but just the fact that someone needed to Be There Encouraging Dan to be Bad - i think That’s how it’d start.

i can imagine dan getting in with the wrong group of people, or whatever - like, dan having friends like s1 carter baizen. and it’d start innocently enough, like “oh these kids who are millionaires and billionaires don’t ever face any consequences for their actions and end up treating people from other class brackets like shit” and evolve into something like dan scamming nate at poker out of spite, and then realising that he’s in this group wayyy too deep, because, yes, he hates the rich kids as a matter of principle, and he’s been bitter about it for a long time, but “isn’t this going a bit too far, guys?” at this point though, much like jenny surrounded by her clique of mean girls, he doesn’t have an easy escape. “no,” carter will say. “we’ve only just begun. do you trust me?” and dan’s friendship is just Like That, which is not great, but he says yes and he means it.

so that’s one possible dark!dan arc i’d give him - joins a group and his intentions at the time aren’t even Inherently bad, and then just gradually slowly finds himself doing worse and worse things. at first it’d be reasonable stuff - maybe he does the anon call to yale that gets blair’s acceptance rescinded, maybe he’d find some way to mess up chuck’s business deal behind the scenes - things he can rationalise away as things they had coming because blair and chuck did something wrong and if they hadn’t, none of this would be able to affect them. then suddenly he finds himself sabotaging serena and nate and he’s like. holy fuck, what is wrong with me? that would be an interesting thing to explore.

another thing - i can’t believe i got this far into this response without mentioning jenny. but: jenny.

dan’s canonically not too pissed off about people treating him terribly. it’s what he’s used to, and he doesn’t expect any different! jenny, comparatively, is ready to say ‘fuck it’ to everyone and do whatever she wants to do to get what she wants, even if she hurts everybody around her on the way there - but that’s not what this is about, this is about how dan would never react recklessly and maliciously if someone was bad to him. but if someone hurt jenny???

unpopular opinion, but i can see him being gossip girl in THAT very specific context. girls in school are being cruel to his baby sister? he needs to shift the focus away from jenny. he needs to do something to keep his sister safe. so he creates a website, “gossip girl.” he starts blogging about one of the popular girls in his class, serena van der woodsen, because if people are busy sending tips about the girls in his grade, they’ll back off and leave jenny alone. i think if someone hurt jenny really, really badly, dan would basically go, ‘okay, i’m done being a good person’, and running gossip girl or doing something equally big that enables him to hold power over the group of girls who ruined his sister’s life? it could work.

the thing about dan being gossip girl is it makes no sense how the show did it. “a love letter”??? no, no way. dan and serena BOTH know that gossip girl is malicious and cruel and nasty in the early seasons. they both express their distaste/hatred towards the site and whatnot. dan’s “i could just write my way into the story” thing doesn’t sound right to me either, and his whole “i actually secretly wanted to be just like you guys” thing makes me shudder because. hey, whoever wrote s6, did you even watch your own show?

but dan being gossip girl because he’s bitter about the dynamics in high school, the privilege a few groups of people have, because he sees girls like jenny being treated terribly and harassed and pressured and coerced into things they don’t want to do, and he’s like, this is fucked up, why is nobody doing anything about this, what if i did something about this - and he starts gossip girl hoping that it’ll show people how none of their “friends” are really their friends, or that it’ll just form some sort of consequence for kids who never face consequences... like, i can see THAT happening and i think that’d be interesting to explore for a character like dan, especially if at some point jenny gets to like. smack him in the face with a handbag or something and go “you’re so righteous! you only made things worse with your stupid gossip site, dan!” and he’s like oh shit. but he doesn’t know what to do at that point - he’s been running the site for like 3 or 4 years and he doesn’t know who he is without it.

dan being gossip girl also makes sense given his non-confrontational nature - he can cause conflict without getting involved directly in the conflict, so it’s comfortable for him.

okay, so! wow, this got long, but you must’ve known that it would when you sent me this ask, haha. to summarise:

dan is very non-confrontational and often tolerant of the wrong people, this could be explored in a certain direction such as if he allied with toxic and dangerous people

dan never really fights for himself, but he’s naturally a protective person, so if something were to happen to jenny, i see that as the most major and natural incentive for a dark!dan arc.

wow, everything i said fits into 2 bullet points! who would’ve thought.

#gossip girl #anon #dan humphrey #meta #finally a nuanced take from me about this dude!!!#idk what to say like #dan isn't necessarily my favourite character #but he's the one i am most naturally symphathetic? emphathetic? to #i do genuinely like his character a lot #and i've always been fascinated by like #for the most part all gg characters aren't inherently good or bad #it's a lot more complicated than that #of course there are exceptions #but im not going there in the tags fdlflkhlkfdhl #long post

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

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Your First Name, My Last Name

A/N: the title came from this cantonese love song. Also, this is loosely inspired by the single best piece of writing I have read on this site that is this post by @linkedsoul , it is being expanded to a novel so I strongly recommend giving it a read if you haven’t already!

(au masterlist)

Pairing: fae!Amajiki Tamaki x reader

Description: There was something extremely important the fae would like to ask you, the only issue was the he don't know how.

Word count: 3778

Playlist:

Heavenly//Cigarettes After Sex (This is the softest love song out there please listen to it I love it so much thanks)

Tonight//Sibylle Baier

When the Day Met the Night//Panic! At The Disco

Humans had lived under the facade of peace and progress for centuries that they had forgotten the true power of giving someone their names. In other words, they had lost their natural primal instinct to protect themselves from being tricked by faes.

Not that faes were all too interested in playing around with humans anymore. They found human to be too calm and nonchalant about the whole “dropped in another dimension” thing that they liked to do for it to be entertaining anymore. What’s the point of doing all the work if they were so chill about it? Even with the other supernatural creatures moving into the outside world and growing to live with humans, most faes still tended to isolate themselves and stay inside their own circle or live somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted by people.

Tamaki Amajiki was no exception. This sweet fae was not as mischievous or cunning as most other faes and he didn’t hate humans but he was incredibly, incredibly shy. The mere thought of having to talk to new people every day made him sick and he would much prefer staying in the comfort of his tiny cottage by the lake, surrounded by lovely plants and the occasional company of the chirpy nymph and outgoing centaur that visited him regularly.

Now imagine the shook that his very few friends must felt when the fae let it slipped that he found a human lover over tea one day. The fae in question hid his reddened face behind his palms after realizing what he said, not being able to form coherent sentences while the nymph and the centaur bombarded him with questions.

Truth be told, Tamaki often found himself thinking about the peculiarity of that when he layed in bed at night. Him, who could barely look at people in the eye, found someone who wanted to spend time with him and talk to him and hold his hand and even kiss his lips. Just the thought of that kept him up at night in the best way possible, with his heart fluttering in love and affection.

He could never forget the day he met you because he nearly fainted when he heard the knocking at the wooden door, thinking that it was his friends only to open up and found a stranger standing there.

“Hi, um, I’m sorry if this is too sudden but can you take my name?”

“W-what?”

Tamaki’s head had yet to be cleared from the sheer panic of a stranger showing up at his door and he could not process what you just said to him out of the blue. Take your name? Did you have any idea what you were asking him to do? Did you have any clue as to what giving him your name would meant? A million thought ran through his head and it was too much for him to handle, let alone that fact that he was under your gaze and you didn’t seem to have any intention to shy away.

So Tamaki did the only logical thing he could think of and closed the door in your face.

You watched as the door slammed shut and you heard the sound of rapid footsteps from behind the door. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do as the clashing sounds from inside the cottage got louder and more frantic as time passed. You knew that it was a sudden request and a strange one at that but you didn’t foresee it to cause the fae so much panic.

Suddenly, the noises stopped and everything fell into silence. You were wondering if you had broken the fae and whether it was a good idea to check up on him when the door swung open to reveal the fae with his face flushed in redness from his cheeks all the way to the pointed tip of his ears.

“Would- would you like to come in?”

You looked around curiously as you entered the cozy cottage. There were many different myths about faes floating around but none of them seemed to match what you saw. It was just a really lovely cottage with the warm sunlight pouring from the window and homey wooden furniture laying around the room. If there was anything unusual about it, it emitted such a welcoming aura that just made you wanna lie down on the woven blankets draping on the chairs and take a good nap.

Tamaki fumbled around in his small kitchen as you took in the surroundings of his home. To say that he was anxious would be an understatement. It had been many years since he had any visitors that weren’t Nejire or Mirio and the humble cottage was not prepared for guests at all. He fidgeted with his fingers as he waited for the water in the kettle to boil, trying hard to think of what he could say to you so he wouldn’t be too tongue twisted when he actually had to sit down with you and there would be no distraction for him to avoid the conversation.

You thanked him as he handed you the saucer with a cup of hot tea on it and took a sip. Tamaki watched attentively for your reaction and let out a relieved sigh when your eyes widened in delight. It was the best tea you had ever have, just the right amount of sweetness and spice. You had never tasted anything like that and you wondered if he would tell you what blend it was if you ask.

Tamaki held his cup so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Should he say something? What would he say? Why weren’t you speaking? Why was neither of you speaking? Should someone be speaking? Did the tea burnt your tongue? Were you silently judging the mess that was his house? Were you silently judging the mess that was him? What if-

“About what I was saying earlier-” Tamaki snapped back from the overriding thoughts in his head as you speak up and let out what sounded like a small squeal in shock. You immediately stopped talking at his reaction, afraid that you had said something wrong to startle the fae.

He lowered his head in embarrassment as the tip of his ears started to turn red again. You watched as his pointy ears dropped with his bashful expression and couldn’t help but feel a warm rush to your stomach at how adorable he looked. You immediately brushed that thought to the back of your head at how offensive such a comment must be to a fae whose kind traced back to way before the existence of humans and with magic so powerful.

“About that...”

It took a lot of encouraging on your part for him to start stuttering less and less as he explained the whole concept of giving your name away to a fae and why he couldn’t just take yours as you asked. You nodded in understanding but couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh which made Tamaki tensed up immediately and rambled on about how sorry he was.

You gave the fae a smile, telling him that it was fine and why you came to him in the first place. You grew up in an extremely strict household where you parents were so overprotective that they did not allow you to do most things that other people your age could do even when they were way younger. It was immature, but you had contemplated running away from home many times before but never did it for real. Earlier that day before you showed up at Tamaki’s doorsteps, you had a heated argument with your parents and you stormed out of the house in anger. You didn’t want to go back and suddenly remembered the tales your friend had told you about how humans in the ancient times were tricked and gave their names to faes. It was said that those people would be taken to the faes’ land and never return. Looking back that you had calmed down, it was a stupid decision but at that point it seemed like a better option than going home and getting scold again. There were rumours that there was a fae living by the lake in the middle of the woods and you decided to try your luck. No one had actually seen the fae and you were certain that it was only a lie adults told their kids to stop them but misbehaving, you were just as shocked as the fae who opened the door when you actually found the cottage and the lake after mindless wandering around.

“W-well, I’m sure that living with the-with the faes would be w-way more boring than you-your old life.” Tamaki said as you were about to leave, his voice trembling as he tried to find words to say that might cheer you up.

“I’d much rather stay here than go home, really.” you said as you stood under the wooden frames of his door and grinned when his eyes widened, “Can I come again?”

“O-of course.” Tamaki scratched the back of his head and gave you a bashful smile as his face heated up once again.

It wasn’t long until you returned to the fae’s cottage by the lake again. It was a sunny afternoon and Tamaki was talking to the animals that gathered in his garden when you arrived.

You kneeled down next to him and he nearly fell over when he finally saw you. You reflectively reached out and held him by the arm to steady him. Tamaki was determined to be less of a stuttering mess when you showed up again but the plan failed when he felt your touch on his arm. His ears perked up as he became hyper aware of how close you were to him when in the position you were in.

“I thought that your house alone was good enough but now that there are animals all around the garden, there is even less of a reason for me to ever leave.” you said as you petted the rabbit that was sitting quietly on his lap.

You couldn’t see the flustered expression on his face as your gaze was fixed on the fuzzy creature. Tamaki wasn’t sure what it was that got him like that, he was shy by nature but he was not as squirmy around other people and his heart rate was abnormally fast with you around. “Can you-can you wait for me inside?” he managed to force out a sentence through his lips that was pursed in nerve.

You nodded and got up to enter the cottage that was unlocked. When your figure disappeared from where he could see, Tamaki’s shoulders relaxed and he put the rabbit on the ground before getting up. “What?” he looked down on the furry rabbit as its mouth moved to let out a soft mutter.

“Huh?” Tamaki’s face flushed as he heard what his animal friends were suggesting, “That’s not true! I- I don’t!”

Despite it being rather unnoticeable, the fae could clearly pick up on how the rabbit’s muttering got more aggressive at his denial. “Don’t say that!” he immediately lowered his voice as he remembered that you might hear him from te cottage, “I don’t have a crush on them, ok?”

The fae quickly added in a whisper that was more to himself than to the animals before walking towards the cottage to join you, “And even if I do, there’s no way they would like me back.”

That couldn’t be any farther away from the truth. It was nice that he was so sure of it though, because that look on his face when you kissed him on the cheek before leaving was one that you could never forget and always managed to make your heart swell.

You frequented Tamaki’s cottage even more now that the sweet fae became your lover. He was often apologetic that he couldn’t take you out on regular dates like other humans do but you would always reassure him that his company was all you need with a soft kiss. It took a while for him to stop blushing madly from the lightest initiation of physical affection and even for him to initiate it himself. You wouldn’t lie, sometimes you tried to make him fluster just to see that expression on his face that you loved so much.

It was a few weeks into your relationship when you met his friends that he always spoke so highly of.

With Nejire, it would be more accurate to say that you noticed her than to say that you ‘met her’. It started when you noticed that there was always a few strands of seaweed in the odd colour of pale blue in the lake whenever you and Tamaki lounged on the grass. You brought it up to Tamaki one day, asking if there were magical plants in that colour because you were almost certain that it was quite biologically impossible for average plants. You didn’t miss the way he averted your stare when he tried to brush it off as some sort of enchantment, adding to your suspicion. When you left his house that day, you got closer to the side of the lake to get a clearer look and yelped when the strands moved and a girl surfaced from the water.

“Hello! You are Tamaki’s human lover, right?” you had yet to recover from the shock to respond but she carried on, “Is this how humans look like? What is that you are wearing? What material it is? Lynen? How interesting!”

You could barely catch up with the speed of her questions and struggled to give answers before she raise another one at you. After what seemed like hours, she let out a satisfied breath and say, “I guess I should let you go, the sun is starting to sink and you don’t want to be in the woods without the sun. I’m Nejire and I live in this lake, do come say hi the next time you’re here!” And with that, she gone back into the water, leaving you with your head still spinning.

You always made an effort to greet the nymph whenever you passed by the lake from that day onwards and she would peek out from the surface once she heard you call her name. There were times when you were so caught up with her chatter that Tamaki had to come out and drag you back in. Nejire teased him endlessly for it.

With Mirio, he was a lot less sneaky than Nejire. You were helping Tamaki with his spring cleaning that day and wanted to dust the frames of the window. The cottage hadn’t been renovated in a long while and its windows still had the old-fashioned design where you open it by pushing the two wooden blinds. You opened the window for better lighting and bended down to wet the cloth. When you stood up once again, your head bumped into something and you took a step back when you looked up to see a blonde man smiling at you.

“Oh, hello.” the man said with a wide smile. “Sorry to bump into you, I was just passing by and wanted to say hi.”

You talked with him for a while. You had never met him before but he was very nice and welcoming. He was leaning in from the window frame as you talked so you could only see the upper part of his body. It wasn’t until he left and you heard the faint sound of galloping instead of normal footsteps that you noticed the lower part of his body was that of a horse.

“What are you looking at?” you heard the voice of your boyfriend from behind and broke you out from your daze.

“You didn’t tell me that there are centaurs around here.”

“What?” Tamaki tilted his head in confusion, “There isn’t any- Oh, wait, Mirio.”

Nothing brought Tamaki more joy than the sight of you and his friends huddling around his cottage, laughter and the fresh smell of grass filling the air. You would always leaned on him on the couch as Mirio and Nejire talked and it was one of the few things that made him believed that the world was truly good. Everyone he loved by his side, what more could a fae ask for?

Well, there was maybe one more thing he would want if he was allowed to be greedy for a tiny bit.

Tamaki realized his own yearning on a day that seemed to be not that different from any other. It was a sunny winter afternoon, the woods was all white and the lake was frozen into ice. The nymphs had went away to the deeps of the mountains to hide from the cold and the centaurs were busy preparing for winter solstice. As much as Tamaki loved his friends, it was nice when it was just the two of you once in a while.

He was lying down with his head on your lap while you mindlessly played with the fae’s indigo hair, eyes fixed on the book in your hand. You hadn’t noticed but Tamaki was looking at you the whole time you slipped through the pages, enticed by the concentrated look on your face. The air was chilly but the warm sun that poured in was enough to keep you warm. Even if it didn’t, the heavy blankets that scattered around the cottage and the loving embrace of your lover was there to keep you in comfort even in the coldest days of winter. Your hair was messed up by the wind on the way and you were wearing one of Tamaki’s old shirts but he was certain that there was no ethereal being that looked more beautiful than the way you looked under the soft light. Your hand travelled from his hair to his ear and traced down to his cheek, stopping by the corner of his lips. You peeked from behind your book and smiled when you saw the faint blush on Tamaki’s cheek.

It was then that he realized that this was exactly what he wanted to stare at for the rest of his life.

Which led to his current struggle and that was how the hell was he supposed to bring that up to you?

His friends tried their best to give advice when Tamaki was breaking down over how much of a big deal it was and how he couldn’t mess it up but it didn’t help ease his nerves any less. He was asking you to take his name and give him yours, when faes said they want to spend the rest of their lives with someone it was no joke.

Nejire suggested doing some sort of grand gesture that many humans were doing when they pop the question but it was quickly turned down because they all agreed that Tamaki would probably combust before even saying anything under all the pressure. Mirio thought it might be cute to do it with a cute letter but the fae was not behind it at all because “how am I supposed to tell them how I feel through a letter THERE ISN’T ENOUGH SPACE ON THE PAPER.”

Basically, he was clueless and he had no idea what to do which sucked because it was all he could think of whenever you were around and Tamaki Amajiki was horrible at hiding things like that.

Before you knew it, winter passed and it was spring again. All life returned to the earth as the snow melted and the plants started growing again. You sat in the field of daffodils and gently brushed over the golden petals of the early bloomers. Tamaki didn’t say anything, only watching you with a smile on his face as he fumbled with the edge of his sleeves. He had been awfully quiet recently so you had noticed. You spent such a large portion of your relationship taking note of his many subtle quirks and habits that indicated his moods that there was no way you didn’t pick up that there was something on his mind but you never asked about it. If there was something you learnt about the fae, he would always open up when the time was right, like the budding flowers in spring.

Tamaki could feel the pounding in his chest as he watched you. You were everything he had ever asked for and more. If only he could just find the courage to say it out loud, to tell you that he wanted to spend each spring with you, witnessing the flowers bloom and the ice melt, to tell you that he would give you his soul and ask for nothing in return but your heart.

“Will you take my name?”

You looked up from where you sat at your lover and wondered if you heard correctly. You were confused for a short second until you recalled that you had said something similar to him on the day you barged into his house. It all became clear when you remembered the explanation he gave you in between stutters on the true power someone’s name held.

Giving someone your true name, one that meant something to you, was no different than giving them your soul. Once you gave it away, it was theirs as much as it was yours. In his own words, “People who shared each others’ true name shares a special bond. Something like what humans called ‘marriage’ but soul binding and there is no way out."

Two names, one soul, a life together for all eternity.

Tamaki wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and hide in it for eternity. He had spent so long being frustrated and thinking of the perfect way to ask you only to let it slip in the spur of the moment. He squeezed his eyes tight, not wanting to see the expression on your face and his grew more anxious as each second passed by without any response from you.

“Only if you will take mine as well.”

Tamaki peaked his eyes open just as your voice rang in his ear. You chuckled as you reach out to tug a daffodil behind his ear and his face was tinted with your favourite shade of pink.

This sight for the rest of your life, what more could you ask for?

#tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki #sun eater #tamaki imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #modern magic au

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pascaliprincess · 5 years

Text

Band-Ten-Heart

Summary: A long bus ride provides Peter the perfect opportunity to tell you how he feels. Now all he needs to do is actually talk to you.

Warnings: Fluff! cursing, some angst if you use a magnifying glass, probably some improper comma usage, marching band lingo.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Here it is! My very first fic :D A lot of this is based off of my own experiences in high school marching band so, y’know, take this with a grain of salt or whateva. Feedback is always appreciated so... let me know what you think, I guess.

“Hey Peter?”

Peter’s eyes shot up from his phone to meet yours across the aisle of the bus, his brows raised.

“Could you hold this for me?” Peter glanced down at your outstretched arms to see you holding a mirror towards him. He nodded, taking it from you and holding it out so you could see yourself in it.

“Doing makeup on the bus? A bit risky, don’t you think?” Peter gave you a concerned smile.

“Occupational hazard,” you shrugged, “they don’t usually give us time to do it there.” Peter hummed in affirmation as he watched you paint long strokes of pastel colors around your eyes.

“Pretty impressive,” he said, admiring your precision.

You paused to smile up at him, “lotsa’ practice, I suppose.” He nodded again and your eyes returned to the mirror so you could keep working.

Peter thought back to all the times he’d arrived at competition sites or rival high schools, only to see you with your makeup and hair perfectly done, ready to take the field. He inwardly cursed his band director for keeping the woodwinds on a separate bus until now. The charter bus taking them to their next competition had enough storage to allow the whole band to fit onto two buses rather than the usual three, and the nearly ten-hour drive had prompted Mr. Keely to allow them to sit on whichever bus they pleased.

Peter had immediately decided to join you with the rest of the color guard, determined to finally ask you out. He even managed to snag the seat across the aisle from you. His confidence wavered, however, when he realized he had no earthly idea what to say to you. The two of you were friendly, sure—you’d been going to school together for years—but you’d never been close.

But Peter was intent on changing that now. He’d spent nearly all of the trip trying to come up with a topic of conversation until you had finally hit him over the head with one, and now he couldn’t stop staring at you long enough to think of what to say.

“You good, Pete?” Peter’s eyes snapped to yours.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” he blushed, “just admiring your handiwork. You’re really good at that,” he nodded towards you as you continued painting the intricate design on your face.

“Thanks,” you replied with a warm smile, and Peter swore it was brighter than the sun.

“I wish I was that talented,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Parker,” you quipped with a smirk, “I saw you on Opposite Day this summer. That eyeliner? Snatched.” Peter let out a laugh, genuine and bright.

“I wish I could take credit for that,” he chuckled, “that was all my aunt, though.”

Your hand flew to your chest as a look of shock covered your face, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

“How do you know my middle name?”

“You mean to tell me that for the past two and a half months you just let me believe you were a secret beauty guru?” You scoffed at him, “I have never felt so betrayed.”

Peter bit back a laugh as you continued to scold him. “Honestly, Peter,” you paused to dig through the bag of makeup next to you, pulling out a tube of lipstick before meeting his eyes once again, “I’m not sure our friendship can survive this.”

“No! Don’t say that,” Peter faux-pleaded, a smile tugging at his lips. “How do I make this better?” He grabbed your wrist gently and gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

Your facade broke as you burst into a fit of giggles and the sound made Peter’s heart flutter. “I suppose I can let you off the hook since you have been holding my mirror for like twenty minutes,” you teased, a warm smile plastered on your face.

Peter smiled back as he pretended to wipe his brow, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. When he looked back to you, your eyes were looking down at your lap. He quirked his head and followed your gaze to find that his hand still attached to your wrist. A blush rose in his cheeks as he quickly pulled away, mumbling a “sorry,” before returning his hand to the mirror.

You chuckled as you turned your attention back to your reflection, swiping on a lavender lipstick and smacking your lips together a few times before leaning back to admire your work.

“What do you think?” Peter’s eyes met yours once again and he couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.

“Looks really good,” he nodded.

“Is it more ‘magical fairy princess’ than last week?”

“Dunno,” he confessed, “missed last week’s game.”

“Right, the internship,” you recalled, taking the mirror back from him and swapping it for your phone. “Mind taking a few pictures?” Peter shook his head, taking your phone and snapping a few shots of you from different angles. You thanked him while and pulling some makeup wipes out of your bag.

Peter furrowed his brows, “Wait, why are you taking it off?” He watched the design smudge and fade away as you wiped your face.

“Well for starters, we’re still like, five and a half hours from the competition site,” you joked, “and for seconders, this was just a test. The judge at the last competition complained that the makeup wasn’t readable but I haven’t had time since then to adjust it so I’m doing it now.” You finished cleaning your face, tossing the wipes back in your bag before standing and returning it to the storage compartment above your seat. You grabbed your phone from him as you sat back down, “Gotta send those to the rest of the guard so they know what to fix later,” you mumbled before turning in your seat to fully face Peter, sticking your phone between your thigh and the blue velvet of the seat cushion.

“Can I ask you something, Pete?” He nodded and you continued, “You haven’t been around a ton since you got the Stark internship, which sucks ‘cause I know the c-nets could really use you,” Peter watched your fingers fidget with your sweatpants as you rambled and he wondered what it would be like to feel them intertwined with his own. “And I get that it probably takes up a lot of your time which begs the question,” you tapped his leg with your foot and he looked up at you, “how come you didn’t just quit?”

Shit. Peter inwardly cursed as he felt heat rise to his cheeks. This was it. This was his chance to tell you how he felt. To tell you that he would’ve quit ages ago if this wasn’t the only time you saw each other. He wanted to tell you that he’d been stretching himself thin for over a year just so he could spend time with you. That he’d quit every other extracurricular in order to be Spider-Man but couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you every day, so he stayed. He didn’t even like the stupid clarinet, he’d only picked it up to make May happy.

“I, uh-“ he stuttered, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Not that I want you gone, or anything,” you were quick to correct yourself. Peter’s heart raced as he felt you slide your hand into his, “I’m just worried, Pete. You seem real tired and yesterday you kept messing up your drill and you almost got hit with a flag…” you trailed off, rubbing small circles onto the back of his hand with your thumb and Peter thought he might burst.

He took in a deep breath before meeting your gaze, your eyes were filled with concern and he swore he could get lost in them for all eternity. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, instead he let out a long sigh and pressed his eyes shut.

Fuck it.

“I didn’t want to quit because I was afraid I wouldn’t see you,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes closed tight.

He felt your thumb come to a stop on the back of his hand before you slowly pulled your hand away entirely and Peter’s heart sank. He wished he could take it back, return to the friendly banter you’d had just a few minutes ago before you asked that question. Why’d you have to ask that question?

“Hey Mark?” Peter’s eyes flew open and he whipped his head towards the boy sitting next to him.

Mark turned to look at you, brows raised. “Would you mind swapping seats with me? Peter and I are gonna watch some Star Trek.” Peter swiveled in his seat once more to give you a confused look.

“Sure, whatever.” Mark grabbed his stuff and shuffled past Peter into the aisle while you did the same.

Peter was sure his heart was about to burst out of his chest when you plopped down next to him, pulling your laptop out of your backpack and resting it on your lap. Peter just watched as you queued up an episode of Next Generation, unsure of what was happening.

You plugged in a pair of headphones, putting one in your own ear and handing the other to him. Peter’s skin burned as his hands brushed yours. His mind was short-circuiting; there were so many possible outcomes to his confession and he honestly didn’t know which one this was. Were you just ignoring it? Forcing the moment away with sheer willpower?

You pressed play and the episode started but Peter wasn’t paying attention. His only focus was your presence beside him. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to say something. He opened his mouth to speak but you raised a hand to stop him.

“Nope. Me first.” Peter closed his mouth and put on a tight lipped smile. “You know, there’s a long-standing tradition in almost every marching band on earth,” you started. “Well, less of a tradition and more of a universally acknowledged truth, and that is ‘guard kids date percussionists’.” Peter’s heart fell as the pieces clicked together. This was a rejection.

“For the most part, it’s true. Did you know the last three people I dated were all drummers?” Peter shook his head at this, biting his bottom lip in an effort to keep tears from welling in his eyes. “Yeah, two from drumline, one from pit.”

“I don’t see how thi-“

“Uh-uh. Still me.” Peter sighed as you pressed on. “I think it’s because our personalities mesh so well. Drummers are cocky, they have to be to lead the band like they do. And color guard? You’ve got to be one stubborn, confident motherfucker to toss around a six foot metal pole all day.” Peter just nodded, his eyes glued to the laptop screen.

“But drummers are also assholes,” you sighed and Peter could feel your eyes on him. “Peter, I’m getting real fuckin’ sick of dating assholes.”

Peter’s eyes widened as your words registered. He slowly turned to meet your gaze as you continued, “Clarinets, on the other hand?” You rolled your eyes in mock indignation. “Clarinets are awkward, oblivious, fumbling nerds,” you paused, searching for the right words, “but they’re also sweet, attentive, and wicked smart.”

Peter’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it from your seat beside him. What is happening??? A million thoughts were going through his head as he searched your eyes for an answer.

“My point is…” you shut your eyes, drawing in a deep breath and Peter’s heart leapt into his throat. “Peter Parker,” your eyes met his again, “I’m really glad you didn’t quit.” Your voice was practically a whisper as you leaned towards him, and Peter thought he must be dreaming.

Your lips met his in a gentle kiss and Peter could hear your heart beating as quickly as his own. You pulled back after a moment, bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your gaze fixed on him. Peter’s eyes looked between your own before he brought a hand to your cheek and pulled you back towards him. His lips crashed into yours and he cursed himself for waiting five whole hours before doing this.

You giggled into the kiss and Peter’s heart fluttered at the sound. He wanted to stay like this forever, lips pressed against yours, feelings of mutual longing finally being hashed out. That feeling intensified as your tongue swiped across his bottom lip, silently asking permission. He granted it enthusiastically, parting his lips and dancing his tongue with your own. He felt you shift below him as you moved your laptop to the side and lifted the armrest separating your seats before threading your fingers through his hair. Peter moaned at the feeling of you tugging his curls and he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

The two of you sat like that for a few seconds, catching your breath and processing what had just happened. You pulled away slowly, eyes never leaving his own. The smile etched on your face made Peter’s stomach do flips.

“You know what else is great about clarinet players?” Peter hummed, already leaning in to kiss you again.

“Talented tongues.”

Tagging some people, I guess:

@holland3000 @marvellousparkerpeter @stuckonspidey @hillsnholland@keepingupwiththeparkers @madmadmilk @definitely-not-black-cat@afterglowparker @dtftomholland @lousimusician @spideyyeet @starksparker@wazzupmrstark @toms-gf @spideypeach @mjandliz @webbedparkers@moorehollandplz @hollandlovely @thirsttrapholland @marvellousparkerpeter@spidey-starks @mcuspidey @gyllenwh0re @mrs-hollandstan @condy-wants-a-cookie @edgy-hufflepuff-bro @pink16panther @makylaolson16

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astrogone · 4 years

Text

ANXIOUS MUNDAY MEME

@seekesotsibteadmist: What is something you want people to know right away about yourself?

PLEASE REMEMBER I AM EXTREMELY SLOW AT EVERYTHING!!!! I swear, there is a no apologizing for quick or late replies oocly and icly policy in this household because if you message me with an apology over that, you may get my response after a few days, if not a week, and I get so embarrassed like shdjsjd please, don’t be sorry at all. I get every reason behind any pace of the responses, so do not ever feel bad or anything replying to me too late or too quickly. Hell, you can take a whole damn MONTH to reply to me oocly or icly and I’ll still act like I would only be waiting for a day and be like “Ah! My friend! I love you”... But yeah, while I am easily distracted and exhausted to do this stuff, I usually have to reply back to ten to fifteen people oocly, and I will always have many people to reach out to when we haven’t interacted yet ( which if you haven’t interact to me yet, please, this is invitation that you can slap yourself in my IMs Now ), and my social energy / motivation to interact with people? It’s erratic as Hell. Also, I usually take way too much time replying to a post / message when it shouldn’t be the case. Like? For me to reply to a one paragraph in the thread will take me at least an hour to two. If you straight just say hi to me and ask how am I doing, it’ll take me at least five minutes to ten to just answer your very simple question.

I have an intellectual disability that gives me difficulties reading the given information, understanding them, and responding to them at a pace the average amount of people can do, but I can’t. The longest time you can get from me oocly is usually six days. Icly though? Boy, am I a lost cause with that. It can be anytime as I can reply to our thread for a month later, if not longer, I will have to let that be known, lmfao... But you’re more than welcome to give me a nudge for anything anytime. It may not get a quicker response from me anyway, knowing me, but just know that my silence towards you while I’m being noisy on dash or to others or such has nothing to do with you, ever. At least with oocly, I try to prioritize replying to people who I haven’t replied to the longest over those that I have done so recently, but I’m an absolute slow and low mess at everything, so! As that’s something I can never change, unfortunately, I can only wish that everyone interacting with me would be grateful for what we have already.

@sinisteraugurey: How much anxious internal screaming goes on with you on a regular basis?

It’s a 24/7 thing, man. I would just try to distract myself with whatever is in my way to block them, but, yeah, it just really be like that with me. Last night while I was trying to sleep, I kept staring at my window in concern because it had these shadows constantly moving behind the curtains, and there’s that small part of me that KNEW it’s just the tree branches that got caught in the lights of the streetlights, but, my mind kept telling me “they’re coming” and I was just constantly like,, “who tho,,, omg,,,,” but,, think about it,,,, I live in the sixth floor of a building, so how the Hell could the shadows reach up there?¿...

@vsentis & @arsonbeast: What’s a tip you would give to people trying to get to know you?

Ask me questions from something simple like what’s my favourite colour to something over the top like how often do I get existential crisis lmfao even if it’s completely out of the blue or we don't know each other well yet, I wouldn’t ever mind answering them at all. As well if / whenever you are comfortable, talk about yourself as it will usually prompt me to do the same in return. I often don’t throw facts about myself to others because I think it would have others feel like they would be suddenly placed in a position of having to bring up information about themselves to me and I know not many people are comfortable to talk about themselves and / or their lives when they’re on this Hellsite to write and develop, which is totally understandable and I’m more than okay to be interacted with for just writing / plotting.

On a different note, I am planning to create a Carrd about my interests ( like what shows, music artists, etcetera I’m familiar with ) and slap it on my pinned post so it can give others a chance to get to know me more and bring them up to me to break down any tension from their end, so you can randomly pop into my DMs like “biTCH yOU WATCH B.UZZEED U.NSOLVED!?¡¿” and I’d be like “FUCK YE A H, I DO” and create chaos from there sndnsmd

@vsentis: Is communication important to you?

Beyond important. I personally think communication is THE most important aspect in not just roleplaying, but in general. It’s what builds a strong relationship with the parties. The more they will interact with each other with a lot of patience and understanding, the higher chance that trust and comfort can be built stronger and tighter within a connection. Now, what do I have to say with me? I love talking to people, even when I’m a slow motherfucker at it and I get extremely frustrated and sad at the fact. I love when people talk to me and I can read about their days, personal projects, characters, so forth. I want people to feel that they can trust me and be comfortable coming to me for anything from a random chat to ranting / venting. Man, just straight up slap my DMs with a random photo of a forest and I’ll just not shut up about the time I nearly got lost in the forest.

Now, it does take time for me to reach out to people first, at least usually not because of IC related like plotting calls. For me to come to you randomly and talk about anything not roleplaying related? Again, I can’t be sure if people are comfortable with talking about themselves and their lives, but the more they come to me first for random ooc conversations, the more comfortable I will be to reach out to them first for so frequently. Another thing I do want to mention that if I do or say anything wrong or it’s making you uncomfortable, please? Reach out to me? I mean, I get that people aren’t obliged to teach others and whatnot, so do what you gotta do it the block and follow buttons to avoid wasting more energy and time, but it would truly help a lot with me and anyone else who I am / will interact with in the future. Just be honest with me and share your thoughts to me— I will listen and take them in mind. I absolutely hate to make people uncomfortable without knowing and I would be extremely appreciative if I was told why so I can be more considerate in the future.

@goldenornstein: Do random asks out of the blue upset you at all?

Not at all! In fact, I encourage sending me random asks! It might take a bit for me to reply like anything else, but I LOVE random asks! Makes me go “!!!” whenever I see a number on that mail symbol thingy. So, send me random memes, random thoughts, straight up just slap the word, P.ikachu, in the ask and send it to me and I’ll be like, “me fucking too, pal” jsjdkdk

@seekesotsibteadmist: What are some things you worry about in terms of new people?

I know I apologize for rambling or taking a long time to reply, but in the end, people being impatient or easily annoyed by me or whatever are my least worries. What I should be more concerned about but am somehow not is if this person actually holds good intentions with a good mindset. Even though I had my generosity taken advantage of way too many times by way too many people who I thought were really good friends in real life and online, I still? Somehow don’t ever think about the possibility that this person is actually very shitty when I interact with them as much as I should, considering how absolutely chaotic this site is. Being cautious is highly draining for me personally as I literally just want to vibe, so…

Just know that I take anyone in who my mutuals haven’t mentioned on their rules page ( yet if I do happen to interact with your abusers or people you’re not uncomfortable with because they’re doing / saying predatory / harmful things? Lemme know and I’ll instantly get out of their hair— you don't even need to give me an explanation, just don’t hesitate to say their URL and I’ll do my shit ), but I will instantly kick them off of my household the moment I see or learn anything from them that is predatory or harmful to people. If you do / say something that I don’t like, like misgender my muses or keep godmodding my muses or whatever, I’ll let you know how I feel, but if you’re gonna be stalking people, being disrespectful / abusive to anyone based on their genders, sexualities, ethnicities, disabilities, etcetera, write / make headcanons based those disgusting things we all know what, and so forth? I will hardblock and never look back, and that’s that.

#long post cw #( because I dread that the read mores isn’t working but )#//#( really took me close to three hours to reply to all of these shdjsjd )#( thank you guys so much for sending these though! )#( this actually makes me feel better / less anxious )#( knowing that people will see what’s up with me especially with how TERRIBLE I am at replying so )#( bless y’all ;; )#( now I want to take a nap I am so hshdhJSJS @ myself )#࿐ ˚ . ‧✧̣̇‧⎛ ooc ⎠ : ❝ take me far from here . ❞

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is-it-madness · 4 years

Text

My Glorious Purpose | Loki x OC Chapter 1

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my very first fanfic that I’ve finally had the guts to post on tumblr. I do have it on other sites, but was too nervous to post it here. After some convincing from the lovely @wowjeena, I decided to post it here. This is a story about Loki and my OC. I really hope you all enjoy it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated! If you would like me to tag you, send me an ask or message me. I will gladly do so!

Pairing: Loki x OC (Tera Digitalis)

Word Count: 1704

Warnings: None in this chapter :)

Chapter 1: Conference Room

(Tera’s POV)

I run through the helicarrier, not believing what Natasha told me. A Norse god? Here? At S.H.I.E.L.D? She said there was a small scuffle in Stuttgart.

Yeah right, I think to myself as I continue my path down to the cell they are keeping him. There is no such thing as a small scuffle when a super soldier and Tony Stark team up to take him down. Natasha didn’t tell me his name, but that may be because I ran out of the room to see him for myself.

I reach the door that had the cells on the other side. I try to open the door, but it’s locked and I don’t have a key card. One of the perks of being an intern, I huff internally, frustrated at my inability to enter.

“Something wrong?”

I spin around, coming face-to-face with Natasha. She gives me a smirk when I sigh.

“I wanna see the ‘Norse god’ you were talking about,” I tell her, putting air quotes around Norse god because I still haven’t seen him.

“Come with me, Fury’s having a chat with him right now. We can watch from the bridge.”

“Okay,” I tell her.

We walk through the set of doors to find Dr. Banner and Captain Rogers already watching the scene unfold.

“Dr. Banner, I’d like you to meet one of our interns here at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

I stick my hand out, “Nice to meet you Doctor.”

He hesitates slightly before taking my hand in a firm shake.

Our attention is brought back to the screen by the sound of the wind screaming.

“Thirty thousand feet straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?” Fury tells a man with dark black hair, who was imprisoned in the cage.

He pushes a button and closes the floor. He gestures first to the man.

“Ant.” He then points towards the panel, “Boot.”

“It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me.”

This is the first time I hear him speak. He speaks with formality and an air of superiority. His accent is almost British, but there’s something else to it that made it seem more sophisticated.

“Built for something a lot stronger than you,” Fury shoots back.

“Oh I’ve heard,” the man says, turning to look at the camera, directly at us, as if he knew we are watching. Dr. Banner gives Natasha a look. He must have known that S.H.I.E.L.D. would take precautions.

“A mindless beast‒ makes play he’s still a man.”

I suddenly notice that a tall, blond, and extremely muscular man is in the room with us and is not watching but listening intently.

“How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?” the black-haired man mocks.

Fury takes several steps closer to the cage, “How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can’t hope to control, you talk about peace and you kill ’cause it’s fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.”

“Ooh. It burns you to have come so close, to have the Tesseract, to have power—unlimited power—and for what?” the prisoner asks. He looks back at the camera, towards us, and with a smile he says, “A warm light for all mankind to share?”

He turns back to face Fury, “And then to be reminded what real power is.”

Fury just smirks back at him, unshaken. “Well, let me know if ’real power’ wants a magazine or something,” he says before taking his leave.

The monitors go black.

Captain Rogers looks up at us from where he sits, watching.

“He really grows on you doesn’t he?” Dr. Banner asks dryly.

“Loki’s gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what’s his play?” Captain Rogers asks, turning to the muscle man standing beside me.

“Wait. Thor? As in the Thor? Like son of Odin, the god of thunder, wielder of Mjolnir? And your adopted brother, Loki? That’s who we have? You’re that Thor?” I ask, incredulous.

He looks at me, with an eyebrow raised. “Yes mortal child, that is I whom you speak of. How do you know so much of me? We have only just met.”

Embarrassed by my outburst, I simply mumble, “I read a lot. Also I’m not a child.”

I make note of Natasha smirking at me from the corner of my eye, as Thor smiles at me before turning back to the Captain.

“He has an army called the Chitauri. They’re not of Asgard, nor any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.”

Agent Maria Hill joins us in the conference room. She stands behind Thor, quietly listening.

“An army, from outer space?” Steve says in disbelief.

Dr. Banner fiddles with his glasses, “So, he’s building another portal. That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.”

“Selvig?” Thor repeats.

“He’s an astrophysicist,” the doctor explains.

“He’s a friend,” Thor responds.

Natasha looks up and speaks for the first time since the screens went dark. “Loki has them under some kind of spell - along with one of ours.”

I can hear the hurt in her voice, she and Clint had a special bond, they were extremely close.

“I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He’s not leading an army from here,” Steve says turning to Dr. Banner.

“I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats, you can smell crazy on him,” Banner jokes.

Thor takes a step closer to the table, “Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother.”

Natasha gave Thor a look. “He killed eighty people in two days.”

“He’s... adopted.” Thor falters, blaming Loki’s action on his adoption. I roll my eyes.

Banner speaks up, “I think it’s about the mechanics. Iridium, what do they need the Iridium for?”

We hear a voice answer back from the hall, coming closer.

“It’s a stabilizing agent.”

It’s Tony Stark, walking beside Agent Coulson. He whispers something to Coulson about keeping love alive. I raise an eyebrow, but don’t say anything. Coulson smiles before heading off in another direction. Tony starts walking towards Thor.

“Means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Tony explains, with a wave of his hand. “No hard feelings Point Break, you got a mean swing,” he says patting Thor’s biceps with the back of his hand.

Thor gives him a look of death, but Tony doesn’t see it as he heads towards the control panels. Agent Hill rolls her eyes as Tony walks past her.

Tony continues without missing a beat, “Also, means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants.”

Tony turns to face the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, “Ah, raise the mizzen mast, ship the topsails.”

They all turn to look at him, with confusion plastered all over their faces. I can’t help but laugh.

Tony suddenly points out excitedly. “That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did.”

We all look towards the man Tony had pointed out, and sure enough, he is playing Galaga.

Tony walks towards the command area of the ship, where Fury usually stands.

He covers an eye. “How does Fury even see these?”

“He turns.” Agent Hill responds simply, with her arms crossed.

“Sounds exhausting.”

Tony starts messing around with the screen. Pushing things, moving them aside.

“Is he even allowed to touch that?” I ask Nat.

She just shrugs and rolls her eyes.

“The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source of high energy density. Something to kick-start the Cube.” Tony says.

Agent Hill interrupts him. “When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?”

“Last night.” responds Tony, with attitude.

Hill looks at him, confused.

“The packet, Selvig’s notes, the extraction theory papers, ” Tony elaborates. “Am I the only one who did the reading?” he asks with his arm open. “And why is there a kid here?” he asks, pointing at me.

I give him a tight smile. Why does everyone think I’m a kid? “I’m actually an intern here, Mr. Stark. Agent Romanoff is my mentor.”

“Intern, huh? How old are you? 15? 16?”

“Nineteen, actually. Sir.” I add, not wanting to be rude, because Mr. Stark is a genius and you don’t want a genius against you. They can come up with some cruel, creative ways to get revenge.

Steve speaks up, “Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?”

Banner responds, still playing with his glasses, “He’d have to heat the Cube to a hundred and twenty million kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.”

I start to zone out. I have no idea what they were saying, and besides, this isn’t the field I’m planning on going in to.

I snap out of my daydream when Director Fury enters the room.

With his eye on Tony, he tells him, “Doctor Banner is only here to track the Cube. I was hoping you might join him.”

Steve interjects, “I’d start with that stick of his. It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube. And I like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

“Monkeys?” Thor asks, “I do not understand‒”

“I do!” Steve interjects, excited.

We all turn to look at him, while Tony rolls his eyes. I feel a smile forming on my lips.

“I understood that reference,” he continues.

I think he’s happy to find something in this world that he actually understands.

Tony breaks the silence. He turns to Dr. Banner. “Shall we play, Doctor?”

“This way, sir.” He answers and they walk out.

Part 2

#loki #loki x oc #avengers #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #marvel #mcu #loki odinson #marvel fanfiction

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 26

“You did what?” Billy was looking at me like I might be slightly crazy, but he loved me so what did that make him? I had just told him about the changes I’d made during my errands and he was taking it well. If ‘well’ was defined as considering having me tested for insanity, that is.

I rolled my eyes and stole the carton of noodles from him. We were having dinner in bed, Chinese food cartons scattered around us, it was a miracle my linens weren’t a mess. “I changed my beneficiary to you, William Butcher, and you also have power over my unconscious body should it become necessary. If it helps you sleep at night, most of my fortune will end up going to animal rescue sites.” I shrugged, and took a bite from the forkful of noodles I had in front of my mouth. Why was this so bothersome to him?

“Only your unconscious body?” Shit, my eyes met his and I had to remind myself how to chew. “Ronnie, I’m not sure I want all that responsibility.” That caused my eyebrow to raise in warning. He wanted the responsibility to screw me, love me, and keep me safe, but not deal with my corpse or insurance? Really?

After swallowing carefully, I put the noodles down and took a deep breath, reminding myself to count down from ten so I didn’t do something ridiculous like throw the carton at his head. “Billy, do you love me?” He started to open his mouth, but I stopped him. “That was more of a rhetorical question. I know you do. You love me, you want to keep me safe, and you don’t want to think about the reality of me being human.” He studied me intently as I went on. “I’m human, you remind me of that almost daily, it’s why I can’t meet with Homelander or the other supes without you or one of our team present, correct?” This time he nodded before I spoke again. “By that logic, even without outside interference, I WILL die one day. And when that inevitability happens, I don’t want there to be any question of my expectations.”

I shifted the cartons out of the way and curled up into his arms. His hands curled around my bare skin, his face burying in my hair, and I gave us both a few moments to calm down more.

“I love you, Billy, but you can’t see every action I take as me saying goodbye or preparing for an early death.” He went tense again, but I carried on. “People die, every single day, and I will too one day. Not that I plan on giving up the ghost anytime soon,” I tilted my head back so I could look up at him. “I haven’t had my fill of you, not nearly, and I won’t go until we’re both sick of one another.”

His dimples peeked out and his thumb brushed across my cheekbone. “Planning on becoming immortal are you?” His lips met mine and we got lost in one another, and my surprise at my sheets not being ruined by our picnic was knocked aside, because I could care less about sheets, or stains, nothing mattered when Billy Butcher pulled me to him and our bodies joined. Nothing.

We were in the office the next Monday. Lesser known supes were due for appointments, and we were still waiting for his majesty Homelander to verify his availability so Billy and I sat together doing what was almost becoming a script. Billy would have to bring out bad cop now and then, with a more headstrong or arrogant supe, but more usual was compliance. Acceptance seemed more and more likely as each supe that week came and went.

As we were packing it in on Friday, happy to have had a full week with one another, and a weekend to truly get lost together, an email came in. I would have ignored it, but Billy’s dinged as well. Homelander was willing to meet two weeks out, after checking with me, he confirmed it and we went home knowing that a face off was coming, but not knowing what else would come with it.

A few days before our scheduled meeting with Homelander, I had my head buried in the toilet as Billy stood in the doorway after I swore I’d kill him if he came closer. I swore, as I vomited hard and heavy, that I could taste food that I’d eaten as a child make a reappearance. My nose was stuffed up from the crying that vomiting forced me to do, and I knew I looked and smelled like death. I hated life and the world at that moment.

Then, once deemed empty, I felt fine. As though I hadn’t just become intimately acquainted with the interior of my toilet bowl. I actually felt strangely good. Washing my face and brushing my teeth, I felt my stomach rumble and thought about how hungry I was. As if I hadn’t thrown up everything I’d ever considered eating, I suddenly craved food. Lots of food. Greasy and filling food.

“Are you alright?” Billy cupped my chin and tipped my head back so he could look into my face fully. “Fever?” I shook my head and smiled up at him. “Ronnie?”

“I’m hungry.” I chuckled. “Like really really hungry.” Using both arms around his neck I pulled him down so I could kiss him, and then my hunger was diverted to another craving. Him. I wanted him. Naked and under me. Now. I was pulling his shirt off and unbuttoning his pants when his hands stopped me. “Billy.” It came out a whining plea. I was burning with need for him. My skin felt like fire and that’s when he turned me to face the mirror. Steam was actually coming off my skin. What the fuck?!

“Ronnie, I think we need to get you to the doctor.” I could see and feel how worried he was, and I had to admit, this time so was I.

Ever been to the ER and you’re sitting there thinking, maybe I should just go home? You’re surrounded by gunshot victims, and knife wounds, and you think so I steam a little bit, at least my ear hasn’t been bitten off like that guy’s, right?

Oddly enough, Billy Butcher did not think that my skin steaming like a train engine was less worrisome than Mr. LacksAnEar. And so we sat, and sat, until finally a bored voice called my name. After dealing with triage and vitals, my internal temperature didn’t seem to match the steaming skin temperature making Billy look very smug at his insistence that we stay, I was handed a cup to pee in. Now I could argue with the nurse about peeing in said cup, but what was the point? Not like I’m on drugs, I’m on birth control, at most the pee was going to show kidney issues, right?

Once that was done, we were led to a room and I was told to put on the truly modest gown provided and told that a doctor would be in shortly. Billy helped me with the gown and I started steaming more, forcing him to move away. Damn it. Whatever this was, I hope the doctor had a quick fix, not having Billy’s skin against me- Damn it, the steam rose as I even contemplated him naked now.

“Oh, my,” the doctor offered as he walked in at that moment. “That doesn’t seem-”

I glared at him through the fog, and Billy chuckled. The doctor began a routine examination, asking the same questions that are asked a million times a day. When was my last period? Not a clue because my birth control stints it. How did I feel aside from the steam? Aside from puking up everything I ate, great. I could run a marathon or have marathon sex. That thought caused the steam to start up again. Shit. A nurse came to the door and gestured for the doctor.

I sighed as I waited, ignoring the doctor and nurse’s animated conversation since I imagined it was something to do with another patient. When he came back in, he looked troubled.

“Miss-”

“Doctor,” Billy corrected, but the doctor assumed he had a question so he stopped speaking. “No, Doc, Veronica-she’s a doctor. Not a Miss. A doctor.”

“Ah, yes, I apologize, Dr. Taylor.” I nodded, thinking what the fuck? “Your urinalysis is complete and well-” I watched him gulp and felt a ripple of fear run through me. “When was it that you had your last birth control shot?” I told him and he nodded absently. “And before that?” I gave him the time before, the right time frame for that particular form of birth control. “Well, it appears that- You know that no birth control is a hundred percent effective, correct?” And he might have said more, but I was out. Darkness hit me hard and fast and I didn’t hear another word until I woke up.

It was dark, which was strange, given that we’d gotten to the ER in the early morning, missing work. If it was dark, then I missed an entire fucking day. I blinked awake, trying to discern where I was. The mattress was crinkly, which made me assume, rightly that I was still at the hospital. I groaned. Did I imagine the doctor was about to tell me that I was- No, of course not, I just overheated from the steam. What was up with the steam? Did I miss contracting a fucking weird fever?

“Hey,” I smiled at the sound of his voice. Billy was sitting close to the bed that I woke up on, and his hand took mine. “Glad you’re finally awake, scared me shitless.”

“Sorry,” I turned to see him in the dim light he flicked on with a button on the side of the bed. “Don’t know what came over me.”

“Not everyday you hear you’re gonna be a mom, Ronnie.” Shit, fuck, shit. “Or that I’m gonna be a dad.”

“So that was real?” I asked, shaking my head to clear it. “How?” I couldn’t understand it. I mean sure, Billy and I were basically rabbits when we got together, but my birth control never failed, not so much as a scare since I started it.

“They’re running tests.” I nodded, and he smirked. “Guess you giving me full power over your knocked out body came in handy after all.” I laughed in spite of how scared I was. Something wasn’t right. Pregnant or not, why the fuck was I steaming? “We’re gonna figure it out, Ronnie, I promise.”

“Ah good, Dr. Taylor, I see you’re awake.” The doctor from the ER had returned. “Your pregnancy has been confirmed, there’s another test I want to run. Hopefully it will explain the other issue you are experiencing.” You mean steaming like a hot shower? I nodded. “Unfortunately this test can only be done once your pregnancy progresses to 15 weeks. And it has to be performed by an obstetrician.” Great, a wait. “I’ve had the office compile a list of obstetricians in the area, so you can make an appointment. Once the doctor confirms how far along you are, they can schedule an amniocentesis. I think, I’m not sure, but I think the fetus is the cause of your-” he gestured to the warm air coming off of me like a street grate.

“The fetus?” Billy was staring at the doctor in disbelief. “Why would a human fetus do that?”

“Mr. Butcher,” the doctor removed his glasses and sat down heavily on the foot of my bed. “I can’t be sure the baby is human.”

#Billy Butcher x ofc #the boys #angst #illness #alternate universe

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cami-chats · 4 years

Text

My Blood Red Heart

Written for @marvelpolyshipbingo

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Triggers: Winter Soldier/Red Room mentions

Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky recognizes his forgotten soulmate while in the middle of a fight. Natasha saves him, they save the day, and Tony invites them back to the Tower. Falling for her was easy, so why not fall for him too?

Square Filled: B2-Murder Strut

Read on AO3 or below

The Soldier watched her run away, but there was no satisfaction in it, not when she was severely outgunned and still had the time to toss that fucking smirk over her shoulder as she went. She was the bigger threat. The target had gone down. He'd get back up, the Soldier knew that, but she could actually stop them if she wanted. She'd tricked him, and the only thing that had saved him was luck. She'd hit the glasses instead of an inch higher; that wasn't because of anything he'd done.

His eyes followed her. She was taking a fairly straight path which would've been a mistake if she wasn't so obviously trying to prevent civilian casualties. "I have her," he said. If they went after her, they wouldn't even make it a full minute. "Find him." He vaulted over the concrete wall and landed on top of a car with a crash that made his legs ache for a moment.

She ducked between two cars before he could raise his gun, and there were more cars on the other side of an overturned bus-- a miniature maze where the prize was pulling the trigger first. He strode to the other side of the road with sure steps, then slowed, glancing back and forth and listening for the smallest sound. She was too good to have loud steps, but he should be able to- he came to a stop. She was talking quietly, but it was enough. Calling for reinforcements wouldn't be enough to save her, but it could save the two men she'd been in the car with if the team accompanying him felt particularly useless today.

He reached to his back with his left hand, fingers catching on a small bomb. He lowered himself and rolled it towards her, then straightened and raised his gun again; there was no way the bomb alone would kill her as she'd see it and dodge, but that would leave him with an opportunity. There was something familiar about her, more familiar than that shield the target had used on the bridge. His handler would mention it during the debrief, most likely, so he didn't need to think about it. The explosive went off and he tightened the gun to his shoulder, only to be thrown off balance when something hit the side of him and knocked the gun out of his hands.

He didn't have the chance to get his feet under him before he heard the quick whir of a garrote wire, and he shoved his hand up near his neck. It just barely caught the wire in time, grinding against the metal of his hand, and as he tried to find his center again, the familiarity struck him again, more distinct than before. He stumbled backward and she hit a car with a grunt, but her grip didn't loosen. For a moment he tried to get the wire completely away, but the angle was bad and she had too much leverage where she was hanging off his shoulders. With his free hand, he reached up and gripped with the intent of throwing her over his shoulder. He started to, and then he froze, memories hitting him straight in the stomach like a brick.

She fell barely a foot away from his aborted move.

"Natasha," he gasped, and she stopped, half a second from throwing something at him. His eyes were wide, and he didn't know- what the hell was going on? He stumbled back half a step, bumping into the car again, and this time he didn't move.

She got to her feet, still holding that small disc in her hands. Her expression was hopeful but her body language was wary, angled so that she could throw it at him and make a run for it if she needed. Smart, but she'd always been smart. "Yasha," she returned evenly.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, and he didn't even care how desperate it came out.

She glanced over his shoulder nervously, then back at him. "Not now, we need to leave."

He didn't know how to think about where he was or how he'd gotten to this specific point in time, but he could get them out. Leaving was easy. They started to run, moving together like no time had passed since they'd been on the same side. No words were necessary; when Natasha moved one way, he knew it meant they were about to take a hard left, and they moved in tandem. The deafening sound of a mini gun spitting bullets started, but it wasn't at them. She glanced towards the noise, slowly an almost unnoticeable amount.

He grabbed her arm and made her keep pace, gruffly saying, "They'll be fine." The target was up, and without him the others didn't stand a chance. If they took too long, there would be news sites coming to film, and they wouldn't be able to kill him; they would definitely take too long, the idiots.

They made it far enough away, he took off the mask, and she lifted a hoodie for him. In DC, there wasn't really such a thing as 'out of the way'. Where there wasn't video surveillance, there were guards, and most of the time there were both. So when they stopped to try and formulate a plan, it wasn't because they were completely hidden, it was because they were as out of the way as they could be. There weren't any safe houses that would actually be safe. Fury was dead-- god, Bucky had killed him, he hadn't thought about it at the time, but that had been the last major defense against Hydra and he'd shot that chance without a though-- Hill was in the wind likely dead, and Rogers and Wilson were the ones in need of rescue.

Natasha let out a frustrated breath. "We need backup." But there wasn't any.

"What about Stark?"

Natasha looked at him sharply. "We aren't dragging him into this mess."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at her flatly. "Right. Hydra taking over won't effect him at all." He knew it had been a damn long time since he'd known her, but since when did she care about people this way? Stark could more than take care of himself-- the multiple failed assassination attempts by Hydra were proof enough about that-- and if he could take care of himself, there was no reason for her to be worried. No reason that Bucky could think of right now, at least.

"We aren't in New York."

"He has a flying suit," Bucky said drily.

"We have no way of contacting him," she tried.

Bucky held up a phone he'd swiped from someone's bag-- they'd survive, they had another one for some reason. Hoodie pockets were great. He also had a couple snacks in there, but they were for after Natasha made the phone call that would save their asses. He cared about whatever was holding her back, but not more than he cared about their lives.

With a regretful sigh, she snatched the phone from his hand and dialed, the number clearly memorized to perfection even though she couldn't have had much cause to use it.

It was several, long rings before Tony answered, a confused, "Hello?"

"It's Natasha." There was a shy, hesitant quality to her voice, and Bucky wondered when he'd stop being surprised by things now that he was... himself again.

A pause, then, in a tone too casual to be genuine, Tony said, "You know, there was some footage of that epic battle you just got into. I know some drivers can be dumb, but I think you took it a little too hard this time. You gotta learn to take deep breaths and let it go. Maybe we should pencil you in for some meditation time with Bruce. So Steve and that other guy-- you know, the handsome one in the green shirt, he looks kinda familiar, maybe he should drop by when all is said and done-- got taken in by some people in SHIELD uniforms, and you vanished. I'd be offended you didn't call me in to join the party, but I'm guessing that's what this is. Unless you wanted to RSVP for the New Years party. Six months early is a bit much, but you spy types are always on top of things."

Natasha smiled, but her tone was clear of it when she responded. "Not sure about New Years yet, but we could use some support down here."

"Already in the suit. Where are you?"

"What, you can't trace the call?"

"Not while I'm tracking the transport that has Stevie-boy in it. Am I grabbing him or you first?"

"Him. Yasha and I can survive a little longer without you."

"Who the hell is Yasha?"

Natasha's eyes flickered to Bucky. "Long story."

"Okay," Tony said, drawing out the second syllable to show how much he didn't like that brushoff. "This number good to reach you at?"

"We'll hold on to it until we hear from you." Normally she would ditch it right away, but there was no point when they had no other way to contact him.

"I'd tell you when to expect a call except I'm breaking my own safety protocols right now, so maybe I'll die in a fiery twist of metal like my nanny always predicted. Stay safe," he said, then hung up.

"You're close," Bucky noted.

"Not really," she said, but she had to know that he could tell when she was lying. It was probably a soulmate thing that he always knew when she was telling the truth and when she wasn’t, because she'd always been able to fool handlers.

Bucky didn't say anything to that, just pulled a cap from his hoodie pocket and offered it to her.

She put it on and looped her hair through the hole in the back. "I did a profile on him right after Iron Man. We talk, but he doesn't trust me."

"Anyone other than me trust you?" he asked, arm around her shoulders as they started walking again.

"A few people." The one that recruited her to SHIELD. Fury, before he had died, maybe Hill as well. Steve might. He'd seen something about the Avengers before, but they seemed more like individuals with a common goal than a team. The fact that Natasha hadn't automatically called them was proof enough that they weren't a team.

By the time the dust settled, it was obvious that Hydra had counted on Iron Man being out of the way. Bucky could recall some of Hydra talking about the Mandarin and the aftermath keeping Stark busy, but he didn't think that was important to share. Iron Man was there, a hell of a lot more firepower and brainpower than they'd planned for. Fury was alive and Hill was with him, which explained where they'd been at the start of this mess. Well, Fury was barely alive. He'd kind of been shot to hell, and Bucky made eye contact with him exactly once to make sure he wasn't taking it personally. Maybe Fury trusted Natasha, but Bucky was part of the much larger group of 'everyone else' aka 'people he didn't trust'.

It was ridiculously impressive how much everyone trusted Natasha actually. She might think she was untrustworthy, but everyone in the room believed in her. Proof? They'd all given Bucky suspicious looks and Stark had outright asked why they were trusting the guy that had been attacking them a couple hours ago, and all Natasha had to say was, "He's on our side," to shut them up.

"Anyone need a place to stay?" Tony asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "Of course you do. You-" he pointed at Fury and Hill "-lost your fancy carriers and compromised your entire organization. And you three-" Steve, Natasha, and Sam, but not Bucky since he'd basically been a Hydra attack dog "-lost your homes when they fucked up. C'mon, the tower's great. Pepper won't even be able to get mad at me for inviting all of you back."

"Why would Pepper be mad at you?" Steve asked.

"She doesn't like half of you. Natasha's her buddy, but she doesn't know Sam or Bucky. You SHIELD higher ups though, you're on thin ice. Something about paperwork and an inefficient organization, I don't really know."

As they'd been doing all day, they just listened to Tony and followed after him. It was easy to do that when Tony was constantly proving to make the right decisions. Besides, who else were they going to listen to? Fury? He was the only other one with ideas, but right now he was bedridden, so his usual intimidation tactics didn't work. Plus he had a hell of a lot of work to do to rebuild SHIELD, and none of them needed to be there for that.

Tony decided that instead of flying out to the Tower and grabbing the quinjet to get all of them, they were just going to drive. Bucky wasn't allowed, Sam refused, and Steve was banned from ever driving when Tony was around. Natasha could have, but Tony offered then went off to find a rental. Which meant that none of them got to complain when he showed up in a minivan with a gleeful smile. Of course, that did mean that no one sat in the front seat next to him since Sam and Steve had paired off and Natasha wasn't letting Bucky out of arm's reach.

"This is fun," Tony said. "It's like I'm the mom-friend of the group. Wait until Rhodey hears about this, he'll mock you all silly, normally I'm the one that has to deal with that. And since none of you are in the passenger seat and get to complain, you have to deal with my music." He turned on something with lots of drums and screeching guitars, but after the first song he switched it to only be sounding in the front.

The rest of them were silent for most of the drive. Steve was trying to process the fact that Bucky was alive but was nothing like how he'd used to be. They wouldn't be able to talk about it with everyone here, and that was if they talked about it at all. Bucky was closed off, silent and brooding. Natasha had mentioned the phrase 'tall dark and handsome' before, and he was pretty sure that was the category Bucky fell into now, as opposed to well groomed and a gentleman like he'd been before.

Sam... well Bucky didn't know Sam all that well, but he was probably thinking about how weird it was that one day he'd been having breakfast and the next he was in a minivan with half the Avengers plus a newly retired Hydra assassin. That had to mess with anyone. As for Bucky and Natasha, well, they were used to not talking.

"Sorry I ripped the steering wheel out," Bucky said to Sam.

Sam grunted. He probably wanted an apology for trying to kill him, but Bucky would spend the rest of his life saying that to people if he started now so he didn't care very much.

"He's grumpy because he hasn't had something to eat all day," Natasha said.

"That sounds like an excuse to go to McDonald's," Tony called from the front, opting to yell over the music rather than turn it down. But he did turn it down when he got to the drive thru window because he was a nice guy. And because he was an even nicer guy, he got burgers for everyone, not just himself and Sam. But he was the only one that got a milkshake. Not that Bucky or Natasha minded, but he hadn't even offered. It was the principle of the matter.

"Do they know about you?" Bucky asked her in a low tone. Steve, with his enhanced hearing, would've been able to make out the words if he spoke Russian.

"No."

"You going to tell them?"

"It hasn't come up."

Bucky snorted. Just because no one had directly asked her if she was enhanced didn't mean the topic hadn't come up. She was on a team with other enhanced people, they had definitely talked about it before.

Natasha wrote down a quick summary instead of a full report. "SHIELD has bigger problems than the specifics of how they fell," was her excuse, and Bucky couldn't agree more. Steve, on the other hand, wrote down every little detail. He didn't send it anywhere, so it was likely a way for him to work through what had happened. Not that Bucky was around by the time he finished. Tony went to the kitchen then his workshop, and Sam stuck close to Steve's side. Whether that was because he was nervous or some other-- maybe soulmate related-- reason, he wasn't sure.

Natasha either had a regular room she crashed in, or she just knew which rooms were available for use, because she dragged Bucky off to one of them without checking with Stark. She locked the door as soon as they were both inside, then pointed at a door off to the side. "If you want to get cleaned up."

Bucky didn't, really. He didn't want to do much of anything because that meant dealing with everything he couldn't remember and what he'd missed. But he'd always been able to listen to her, and right now was no exception. He walked towards the bathroom and started stripping off his tac vest. All the knives and guns lined up on a side table by the bed-- less than he should've had, he was running low after the fight-- before he went all the way into the bathroom.

Memories were like sand-- you thought it was all gone until you shifted and found some more. It wasn't much, just the feeling whenever he untied his boots and pulled off his pants; it had been a while since he'd been able to do this in private. After the Red Room, he'd been kept on a damn short leash. Hydra didn't know what to do with him after that. Going on ice had hurt and made it worse for their long term plans for him. Wiping him hurt, but it did help them out temporarily. He'd been a weapon. Not an assassin, not the Fist of Hydra like Pierce had taken to calling him. A weapon, meticulously cleaned and maintained. Slight chinks were overlooked because he had still been the best weapon they had, even dealing with the issues that consistently and continuously cropped up.

The shoes had blood and dirt, and everything had been drenched in water at one point. Air drying was bullshit and made him feel crusty. He didn't really know how good laundry machines were, but the black of his pants covered any bloodstains that were there so it might not matter in the end.

He stepped in the tub and turned on the water. Did he know how to work it? No, but it's not like hot water from a shower faucet could burn him. When the water first came on, it was freezing, but it turned warm quickly. Perks of using a rich fella's shower. He saw Natasha come in, and she closed the bathroom door. Her clothes really were ruined. She hadn't had her suit, so she was in the same clothes that she'd had on the interstate. Civilian clothes couldn't take a pounding for shit. The mud probably wouldn't come out, and the blood definitely wouldn't; as she undressed, she tossed the clothes directly into the trashcan.

There was dirt crusted into her hair. She probably wasn't happy about that, said it reminded her of wading through a sewer-- Bucky never had asked why she knew how that felt when she'd been in the Red Room since she was eight. She joined him in the shower, sliding the distorted glass door across so they were closed off. She leaned her forehead against his back, neither of them moving.

"Do we have any clothes?"

"There are extras in the closet."

She hadn't checked since they entered, so she must have known that from past experience. Bucky sighed, grabbing the soap and rubbing it quickly across his chest and under his arms. It smelled pretty and floral, and it felt far too expensive. In the past fifty years, he'd had the type of soap that his healing factor had to work on. Effective in cleaning, but it stung like hell.

Natasha helpfully moved her head from where she'd been leaning against him, but otherwise she did nothing, enjoying the steam and the company.

A minute later, Bucky tried to move out of the way for her, but she stopped him with a hand on his waist and a raised eyebrow. "You're not getting out with your hair like that."

Like what? His hair was fine.

Natasha rolled her eyes like she'd been able to hear that and grabbed a blue bottle from the shelf. She squirted some of the shampoo-- also floral, dear lord, Bucky was going to smell like a fucking bouquet when he got out-- into her hand and started lathering it into Bucky's hair. He closed his eyes, ostensibly to make sure none of it got in, and leaned into her hands. She spent more time massaging his scalp than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't going to complain and she wasn't going to mention it either.

"Rinse," she said, so Bucky tilted his head back and started to work on getting all the suds out.

And after that, it was only fair to do her hair for her too. They stayed in there for a long time, but the water didn't turn cold-- perks of staying with someone rich. It was a good thing that they had nowhere to go, because now he didn't have to ask Natasha if they could stay; they had to.

Bucky dried off then collapsed on the bed without bothering to look for those clothes Natasha had mentioned. Chances were they wouldn't fit anyways. Natasha got under the covers next to him. Then she sighed. "I left the light on."

Bucky got up before she could do more than start to move, and he turned the light off before going back to bed. The mattress was like a goddamn marshmallow, the sheets a higher thread count than anything he'd touched before, and the blanket was already warming him up. It would be wonderful if it wasn't so different that it threw him off kilter. He didn't bother staying there for long before he got down and laid on the floor.

"Mm Yasha, what're you doing?"

"Sleeping," he grumbled.

She pushed herself up and scooted more towards his side of the bed, peering over the side at him. Enhanced eyesight was a perk of the serums they'd both been given. She couldn't make out his expression or exactly where his nose was, but she could see him. He was on his side, looking just as at ease as he'd ever been. Natasha liked the fluffy bed. What she would like even more, was to be next to Yasha while she slept; she always slept better when she wasn't by herself. So even though she'd been looking forward to an overly comfortable bed after months on SHIELD standard bedding, she got to her feet, pulling the blanket with her.

Bucky lifted his head when he saw her moving, and he snorted when she laid down next to him. She was even nice enough to share the blanket with him. She wrapped an arm around his waist after she got all her hair out of the way. "Get some sleep."

Tony felt like pounding his head against the wall. So he did. He was an absolute, complete, total idiot for falling in love with Natasha. The only interest she'd ever shown in him was when she'd been undercover, and she hadn't trusted him for the longest time after that. He tried so hard to let her know that she could ask him for anything, and he didn't even care that it came off as desperate because he was and she certainly knew that.

The long lost Bucky Barnes and assassin for Hydra was her boyfriend. That was not as big a surprise as the guy being alive in the first place, and he cared more about the first part than the second because he'd already known that he didn't stand a chance with her.

Thankfully, everyone had come back to the Tower with him, so he didn't have to do anything pesky like stalk them to ask what he wanted to know. He was going to make breakfast as a peace offering (and also bring Barnes clothes because he definitely did not have a bag with him, and no way in hell was he going to be able to fit in what Nat had).

The only problem with this plan was that it was nighttime. Tony sighed and headed to the workshop. "J, set an alarm for six thirty tomorrow morning, I need to remember to order breakfast."

"Of course, sir."

"Thanks buddy." Tony walked through the doors, and DUM-E activated from his charging station, wheeling out with a questioning beep. "Don't worry, kiddo, daddy's going to get some work done. Back to sleep with you."

DUM-E, of course, didn't listen, and instead went to finish arranging the spare parts Tony had around for the cars. Since he wasn't going to be in the way doing that, Tony let him have his fun and opened up a few internet windows. Time to get to work on that mess Hydra had made.

The time flew by when JARVIS gave him the set alarm, and even though Tony wasn't anywhere near done, he figured a break to recharge couldn't hurt, especially when the dealings with humans were more time sensitive.

They woke up when someone knocked on the door. Natasha groaned, then yelled, "What!" in the direction of the door.

"It's Tony! I was hoping for a little breakfast, maybe some juice, maybe the explanation about how you know Cap's old buddy!" A pause. "Or how he's alive, that would be good too!"

Natasha groaned, then yelled back, "We'll meet you in the kitchen!" She planted her face against Bucky's chest for a moment, then pushed herself up. "Do you have answers for him?"

"You know as much as I do," Bucky mumbled, rubbing at his face.

"Great," she said, stretching. There were clothes around here somewhere, she just needed to find them and hope they were big enough for Bucky to fit into. If not, well, he'd dealt with far worse than walking around in tight pants. As it turned out, there were only clothes fit to Natasha's size, and he wouldn't be able to squeeze into any of that. "I'll go ask Steve for some extras," she said, opening the door, only to pause. Right outside was a stack of jeans and a t-shirt. "Nevermind." She picked them up and turned back around, kicking the door shut. She tossed them at Bucky and he caught them, then slid them on.

"I don't really remember Steve," he said, zipping up the pants. "I don't remember what I was doing on the bridge."

"What do you remember?"

"The Red Room. Some of our missions afterwards. I... remember they-" he stopped. They'd found out about him and Natasha, and they'd sent him away because both of them were too valuable-- too well trained-- to kill. After that, just shadows of what he'd done. It was like trying to remember the details of a book he'd read years ago. He remembered a chair with jolts of electricity, he remembered the new order of Hydra and how they'd tried to convince him he was one of them, and he remembered ice. Flashes that didn't make sense. He didn't really remember Steve. More like a memory of a story he'd heard once. That wasn't what Steve would want to hear, he knew that much. "I don't remember anything important," he ended up saying.

She looked at him for a minute; she knew he was holding something back, but she didn't press him about it. And that, right there, was why they got along so well. He didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that if she waited long enough, he'd bring it up again. Not that he wanted to admit that he'd bring it up again, but, well, they both knew better. "We might as well go to breakfast before Tony thinks we abandoned him." She opened the door and Bucky followed her automatically.

Tony was munching on toast when they came in, and he pushed the massive jug of orange juice towards them. "I always thought one vintage super soldier was enough for a group, but I guess I'll have to reconsider."

Bucky shrugged as he picked up the jug. Natasha put a glass between him and the orange juice, so he redirected and poured some in the glass. "Hydra experiments," he said nonchalantly. He drained the glass, then refilled it. "Fucks with your mind sometimes." And that's all he was going to say about it.

Tony must have picked that up, because he accepted it. "Yeah, fuck Hydra, I think that's something we can all agree on. Not that I really care," he lied, "but how do you and Natasha know each other? She never worked for Hydra."

"A lot of organizations help Hydra without working for them," Natasha said, and that was all she planned on saying too.

"Do all spies have trouble answering questions like normal people, or is it just the two of you?"

"When was the last time Clint answered a question straight that wasn't about food?" Nat countered.

"You've got a point, but it doesn't match my annoyance with you so I'm going to pretend it's not true."

Bucky snorted. No one bothered to tell him the really good things. Natasha was here, and obviously that was nice, but couldn't she have mentioned that Tony was funny? He'd kinda thought coming here would only lead to avoiding Steve, not actually enjoying anything else.

Tony had ordered in, so he uncovered one of the breakfast platters and took a little for himself, then pushed the rest towards Nat. Then he opened a completely full one for Bucky. He haphazardly tossed forks into the containers, but it didn't look like he'd be surprised if they shoved their faces straight in. Whatever, he was starting with bacon anyways, he didn't need a fork for that.

"Steve's not an easy person to keep out," Tony continued between new bites and half chewed food. "You don't have to talk to him today, and not about anything important, but when he starts cracking heads in, mine will be the first to go. You may not care about that, but I don't have a healing factor so I'd like to avoid all this possible damage."

"He wouldn't hurt you," Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

"That's what you think; he likes you."

"He likes you too."

"Not as much. I think it's the hair, he prefers long and luxurious over well sculpted beards. I think it's a bullshit forties thing."

"It's not," Bucky said. He didn't have any evidence for that, but he was pretty sure Steve had been unable to grow a beard for a while. After the serum that was probably fixed, but he wasn't over it. Or at least, that was his leading theory. Personally, Bucky had always liked a little facial hair.

"Oh yeah? You like the beard?" Tony asked with a wink.

"What's not to like?" he responded, and maybe it was a little too easy for him to say that. Natasha was too good to stare at him straight out for it, but he could tell that it perked her interest.

"You like him," she said as soon as they were alone, back in the relative privacy of their room.

"You love him."

They stared at each other.

"I have a crush," he said softly. "He's handsome and doesn't look at me like he expects something."

More silence. This should be the part where she admitted why she loved him. Bucky had never been the jealous sort, if only because that wasn't the sort of relationship they'd had. It had been intense and all consuming, but when she was working missions there wasn't room for that shit.

"I don't care." It doesn't matter if she loved someone other than him, they were still together. Another bedmate, another partner... they still had each other at the end of the day, and that was the only part he cared about. "You love him," he said again, more gentle than before. Gentle was never something he'd been good at, but it felt like what the situation needed so he tried.

Natasha swallowed. "Love is for children." And she'd never thought she had enough innocence to make it work. She didn't seem to realize that there was more to it than that. Oh when dealing with other people, she knew, but when it came to herself, it's like she forgot all the facts, all the statistics, all the reasons people behaved the way they did-- why she behaved the way she did. He understood it all too well, but that didn't mean he knew how to help.

"Is that what we had?" he mused. "Love?" Like jealousy, they hadn't worked in terms of 'love', but that was a different time for them. Already, he was settling into old patterns. He didn't quite remember why or what those patterns were, but he could feel himself sinking into them.

"Had?"

Bucky shrugged. "Have. You can't tell me you know what we're doing."

"We're... existing."

"Then why would I have a problem with you 'existing' with Tony too?"

"You're not jealous," she snorted.

That didn't even require a response; of course he wasn't. "That's my point."

She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head.

He didn't bring it up again. Not later that night, not the next day, not the next week, and not at any point in the next month when they stayed at the Tower without really meaning to. It's just that leaving would mean having to figure out what-- if anything-- they wanted to do other than clean up after Shield. Staying meant Natasha could go about her life almost as if nothing had changed, and Bucky was able to catch up with Steve and work out the stupid amount of energy he had; staying on ice and being half starved meant he was never restless, but Tony kept insisting that he eat until he was full and this was the result-- fuck Tony.

So when Bucky finally got an official answer from Natasha, it was over a month after he asked. Bucky was sharpening knives in the living room, all of them spread out on the carpet next to him on the ground. She sat on the couch behind him and said, "You're right."

Of course, he had no fucking idea what that meant, because they hadn't been talking about anything this could apply to today. "About?"

"Tony."

Unfortunately, that didn't clear it up for him. He said a lot about Tony, and he already knew he was right about all of it.

They sat in silence for a minute before she elaborated. "How I feel about him."

"Yeah." A month wasn't that long for an admission. Tony might disagree if they ever got around to telling him, but he was what, forty? Natasha was twice that, and Bucky was maybe older, depending on how you calculated it.

"You like him too."

"Course I do, I already told you that."

"You said it was a crush," she said, and the implication hung heavy in the air. It had only been a crush when he said it, because he was Tony fucking Stark, and he was Iron Man, and he was gorgeous, and he'd seen shit but still grinned every day like it didn't matter. Tony made everything easy but let you pretend it wasn't, and Bucky fell for him in the same way. Cause honestly, who the hell saw the Winter Soldier and decided they could force him to go to a carnival just to hold all the prizes they won? Tony, that's fucking who. Not that Bucky had gone alone, he'd dragged Natasha along, ostensibly so he wasn't suffering by himself but she'd definitely known better and Tony probably had too.

The slight tightness in his chest was completely irrational; Natasha already knew what it had become, and she was just as okay with it as Bucky was with her own feelings. It was a conditioned response to admitting anything he cared about though, so he swallowed past it and said, "Was."

"Are we telling him?"

The knife made a clear sound against the stone as he slid it along the edge. "Why bother?"

"He... might be interested."

Bucky hummed noncommittally. It's not that he thought she was wrong, but he didn't think it would go anywhere good. Tony was... different. He wasn't like them. He was a hero, they were ex-Soviet assassins that did good things mostly by accident-- well, he did, Natasha actually tried. And if he was interested and they did end up with it going towards a future together, Tony was still going to end up dead long before both of them. That wasn't something he wanted to get caught up in. It just... wouldn't be worth it. Tony was worth a whole goddamn lot, but Bucky didn't want to invite that kinda heartbreak.

Sometimes it felt like Natasha could read his mind, because she leaned forward, hair swishing against his ear and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "You-" another kiss, this time to his cheek "-are so-" a kiss to his jaw "-stupid."

"Thanks?"

"If you don't have a good reason, we're telling him."

"And if I say it makes me uncomfortable?"

She kissed his cheek again before leaning back to her former position. "I would say you're lying and that means I don't have to listen to you. So don't try that."

"Could I say anything to stop this?"

Natasha curled a hand up his next to tangle her fingers in his hair. She scratched lightly at his scalp, and he stopped trying to sharpen his knives to enjoy it. "I'm not trying to force you into this. But I thought it was something we both wanted. I've seen the way you look at him, and there's no reason he wouldn't fit between us."

"Don't say it like that or he'll think you mean sex."

"Is that a yes?"

"You know it is."

Natasha hummed. "I suppose we'll have to plan how to ask him."

He picked his hands back up and went back to work. "You're overthinking it. We ask him to dinner as a date, and that's our answer."

"Tony, would you like to go to Geraldi's tonight?" Natasha asked. Tony was hunched over the shop's table working, Bucky was working on one of his cars, and Natasha was stacking the items in the fridge until Bucky wanted help.

"Sure."

"As a date?"

Tony's head popped up, frowning. He looked at her, then Bucky, then back to her. "Uh. Did I miss something?"

"Not as far as I know," Bucky said from where he was putting a muffler together.

"Okay," Tony said slowly.

"Great! We'll leave here at seven."

Tony opened his mouth to say that that's not what he'd meant, but he closed it a moment later, frowning. "Seven, got it." He'd figure out what was going on later. For now, he was going to finish what he was doing. As for later, he was going to enjoy dinner when it happened because he fucking loved Geraldi's, and he wasn't going to let the impossibility of it being a date ruin the food.

Bucky said something, but it was in Russian, and all Tony knew in Russian was 'more vodka' and 'take me home'; it hadn't really been a problem until now. "That wasn't very clear."

"It was clear enough."

Bucky snorted, and Tony looked over in worry. "Not you, doll. Tricking him into saying yes does not count."

Natasha scowled at him. "I'll make it clear over dinner."

"I thought we didn't want him to misunderstand. He'll think that's sex."

Her scowl deepened.

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked, concerned.

"No," they said together.

That did not make him feel better. He sighed and went back to what he was doing. It wasn't exactly soothing, but it was something to do other than worrying about whatever the hell they were talking about.

Tony drifted off to sleep, and Natasha looked over to see Bucky glaring at her.

"What?" she hissed.

"You said he wouldn't misunderstand," Bucky accused. Quietly, of course, because he didn't want to wake Tony up.

"And he didn't!"

"You're not supposed to have sex on the first date, even I know that."

"Don't be so judgmental, lots of people do that. And we've known him for a while, so it's hardly a first meeting. We went on a date and then we came home and had sex, that's a perfectly reasonable first date when we've been friends for so long!"

Bucky's glare deepened. "Wait and see, tomorrow he'll wake up and try to sneak off."

"No he won't."

"He will. He thinks it was a one night affair, you don't stick around after those."

"We're in his bed!"

"And that won't stop him!"

They stopped having a whispered argument over his body as they switched to just glaring at each other over his body. If he woke up right now, he would get quite the view.

"Go to sleep, Yasha."

"We fucked this up," Bucky grumbled.

"If he tries to leave, lay on top of him."

"What? Why can't you do it?"

"You way a hundred pounds more. Don't be a baby," she said, then laid down so Bucky couldn't argue with her further.

"Hmph." He laid down, curling into Tony's warmth. It was easier to do with Natasha since she knew he wanted that and could accommodate it, but after curving in as much as he could without achieving his goal, he hoped Tony wouldn't mind if Bucky rearranged him a little. Pick up an arm, slide under it, wiggle a leg between his, and Bucky finally felt situated enough to relax.

Unsurprisingly, he was right, and he gave a pointed look to Natasha-- that she rolled her eyes at-- before dragging Tony back down onto the bed. "Where ya goin'," he mumbled.

"Uh," Tony blanked at first, clearly not having expected to be caught, "the 'shop? I've got a couple projects I need to work on-"

"Liar," Natasha muttered. Her voice was low, but still loud enough that Tony could definitely hear. "You were running away for no reason."

"Oh there's a reason, and I think it's pretty obvious what that is. So if you'll just," Tony trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge Bucky's arm around his waist.

"As the one that got us into this mess Natasha, you have t' fix it." Plus he was tired and words were hard to form. He could totally kill someone right now, but have a heart to heart? That was beyond what he could do this close to waking up.

"If 'fix it' is code for kill me, you really really don't Natasha. We're friends, aren't we? You wouldn't kill one of your friends." Tony's voice was half joking half panicked.

"What the idiot means is that last night was a date. As a precursor to other dates until you're comfortable with letting us call you our partner."

Tony blinked. "What."

"Like dating one person, only instead of one person, there's two of us."

Bucky snorted. "Eloquent."

"If you're not going to do better, shut it."

"Three person relationship instead of two?" he offered, then yawned.

"This isn't a joke, right?" Tony asked. "Cause if it is, it's mean and you should confess right now before I get it into my head that this is actually happening."

"It's happenin' now will you go back to sleep?" Bucky grumbled. He only wanted one more hour, that wasn't so much to ask in his opinion.

"What Bucky means is that no, it's not a joke. It's a serious offer, and you can think about it for as long as you want. If that includes some time alone right now, you can take it. If not, then pull the covers back up because it's getting cold."

Tony did nothing for a long moment, then pulled the blanket up. "You are two very confusing people." Another pause. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but not as much as you fuckers will."

Natasha smothered her laugh, then spread her hand over Tony's chest. "Noted."

"You can't make me regret anything more than I already do," Bucky claimed, yawning again.

"I was making a joke, and you just break my heart," Tony said.

"I'll try not to."

#marvel #fanfic #winterironwidow #tony stark #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #my writing

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

The Heart and Soul of Egoton Ch 2

Summary: Looking for clues, the heroes hold a meeting to trade information and meet a couple friendly faces they haven’t met in a while.

A/N: Continuation of chapter 1.

Chapter 2: Meeting in the Middle

Inside the meeting room everyone was talking, Virgil felt a little nervous. Dr. Iplier helped Virgil get a chair at the edge of the table. Silver and Jackie had been friendly to him but they tended to get more than a bit loud and Virgil was glad he wasn’t seated between even people he knew. Even if Patton was trying to save a seat for him.

Silver walked out to take a call before coming back in. “Okay, so Amy isn’t coming in, she wants to take care of something in town, but told me to take notes for her.”

“That’s fair,” Jack shrugged. “She sure she doesn’t need help.”

“I offered, she said she had enough hands on deck,” Silver reported.

“Well at least we’re all not here letting Egoton tear itself apart,” Abe yelled, he was at a large cork board putting stuff up all over it with Bing and Joan. There were pictures and papers all over the cork board, dozens of colored string connecting them.

“We picked a slow day for a reason,” Silver reminded. “Wil’s out of town and Nate seems to have taken his doppelganger with him. This is the best chance we’ve got to do this.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it,” Abe responded. “I should be out there chasing Warfstache, hell only knows what he’s up to.”

“Fookin’ married folk and killin’ people,” Chase answered. “Exactly the same thin’ he’s always doin’.”

Abe motioned with his hands to Chase and gave Mark one of his wide-eyed expectant stares.

“We’ll make it short and you can start chasing him,” Mark promised.

“I better get out of here ASAP,” Abe decided.

“Hey, wise guy,” Marvin walked in with Robbie who immediately hobbled over excitedly to Henrik who, much like a mother hen, frantically checked to see if he was still all in one piece. The German doctor glared at Marvin when he saw that his ear was in danger of falling off. “We all got shit ta do.”

“Vhat did you do to him?” Henrik barked.

“Calm yer shit, mom,” Marvin rolled his eyes, even if no one could really see it through the mask, it could almost be heard in his voice. “He came to me like that, don’t know what he was up to.”

“I help Marv,” Robbie smiled.

Marvin glared at the zombie, sighing, “When ye say it like that, it’s like I’m the bad guy.”

Henrik was still glaring at him.

“I didn’t do anythin’ to him,” Marv defended, taking a seat that let him put the table in-between the magician and the two doctors. “I wouldn’t.”

“I do good?” Robbie asked as Henrik directed him to sit next to him.

“Ja, ja,” Henrik sighed and started stitching his ear back on. “Sit still vill you?”

“I tried,” Marvin told Henrik. Then he leaned back in his chair to look up and down the table. Even standing up a bit to get another good luck at everyone at the table.

The magician’s eyes couldn’t be seen that well, but Virgil knew a hostile stance when he saw one.

“What’s up Marv?” Chase asked, he and J.J were directly across the table from him. J.J’s pocket watch in his hand, as if braced for something to happen.

“S’nothin’,” Marvin decided, sitting back down, watching J.J intently. “Prolly just my imagination.”

J.J was still turning the pocket watch around. Marvin did pass him a message under the table that read, “Do that again, and I’ll eat all your cheetos, you arse”.

J.J snickered to himself in amusement, pocketing the note so even Chase didn’t have the opportunity to read.”

“What?” Chase asked.

“Nothing,” J.J sighed. “Marvin is funny.”

After about fifteen minutes, Logan came in looking like he’d been running at a full sprint and was frantically trying not to show it. The Host followed at a much slower pace.

“The Host said we would be on time,” the Host smiled.

“Inexcusable,” Logan straightened his tie and glasses. “We are late. I am not a tardy person.”

Marvin leaned back in his chair, Virgil noticed that he looked like he wanted to say something but kept quiet.

“If it eases Logic’s conscious, he can blame the Host, he was distracted and did not keep travel time in mind,” the Host talked as he walked over to the end of the table where King was. Taking his usual seat directly across from Dr. Iplier. He was muttering narrations as he went. Most of his comments were listing off people who were muttering under their breath or looking at him and Logan.

“Lo, it wasn’t that long, we haven’t even started yet,” Patton tried to calm Logan.

“One minute is tardy, the Host and I are inexcusably late,” Logan corrected. “This meeting should have begun without us.”

“Too bad,” Marvin finally spoke up, his tone firm and a bit hostile.

Logan gave him a questioning and confused look as he went to sit in-between Host and King.

“Alright, so we’re all here?” Abe finally said. “Good, sooner we get all this done, the better. First order of business is this eyesore.”

The detective stomped over to point at Bing’s picture on the wall. He was close to the center of the mess on the cork board. It looked like a theater head shot. “This little asshole is part of the League, and Dark is covering for him to keep him from being identified.”

“How sure are we that he’s the Dorm 5 Killer?” Jack asked. “Cause the sooner we put that bastard away the better.”

“If it’s not him, it’s Dark and Wilford combined and the D5’s M.O is nowhere close to theirs. They’d just announce themselves and be done with it and we’d know.”

“What do we need to actually put this guy behind bars? Cause the last time we tried to take someone in on what we thought was enough evidence, they got to walk.” Ethan reminded, picking at his lip. “I don’t want that again.”

“As gruesome as it sounds?” Mark intervened. “A body? A murder weapon? We need something other than they just ran away. A case can be made for two of the guys, but we’ve got four people who are just gone that their families and their friends swear up and down that they would never run away. Something happened to them, they have too much to run away from.”

“What exactly do we know about this guy?” Bob asked. “I leave for a couple months and suddenly we’ve got a serial killer on our hands?”

“As far as the news an’ public know he’s been operatin’ fer about five months,” Jackie answered. “But he’s probably been at this fer longer. We don’t know how long.”

“Five bucks said he’s been preying on the homeless and transient people in the city,” King agreed. “Not even I know how many people come and go unnoticed in the city. And I’ve only been at my job for two years. Anyone could be killing or taking advantage of them and people would never know.”

“Ugh, that’s depressin’,” Jack took a steadying breath. All the heroes looking varying mixes of guilty and uncomfortable.

“Is there anyone who would have tabs on this trimmer guy Trimmer?” Wade asked.

“Warfstache,” Abe proposed. “He’s under the same media umbrella as Wil, but he probably wouldn’t be able to tell us anything before stabbing us. Plus, if he is his kid and under Dark’s protection, the last thing we want to do is alert Dark that we’re tailing the kid.”

“That’s still wild,” Ethan rubbed at his face. “I can’t see him with a kid.”

“Damn right,” Abe agreed. “Look, I’ve been chasing Wil’s ass since I joined the force, an’ let me tell you, the man’s not the fatherly type. It amazes me that this kid even survived to adulthood.”

“Probably no credit to that maniac,” Wade scoffed.

King actively bit his tongue and glared at his hands.

“Dark is most likely the reason he’s alive,” Dr. Iplier spoke up. “He’s anal-retentive enough to step on Wilford’s toes if he does something he doesn’t like.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if this kid isn’t the end of it, Wil’s got other kids and for some reason Dark cares about this one,” Abe leaned over the table. “Probably has some superpower and the others just don’t.”

“They might not know, or something could have happened to them,” Roman answered.

“Could be,” Joan agreed. “Not much we can do about the kid until we can get a hold of him to answer him? Have we been able to get a hold of him?”

“Every time we’ve tried he’s either been on set or absolutely nowhere, cause we can’t find him,” Marvin groaned. “His aura dead ends mid-room. Prolly Dark portin’ him out.”

“Ye know,” Chase began. “We might be able ta get a backdoor if we can catch Wilford with Damien. Still need to find a way to check in on that one. If he’s not drumin’ ta Dark’s beat, we can at least have that off the table.”

“How are we going to prove that?” Mark shouted.

“I could do it,” Ethan offered. “If I’ve got time to brace even Dark can’t see me. So there’s no reason why Wilford should spot me.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” King asked.

“The Host agrees with King,” Host interjected. “What Crank suggests can only lead to a violent confrontation.”

“Come on, it’s Damien, what have I got to be afraid of?” Ethan scoffed.

“Here, we can come up with some kind of a shield he can break out if he’s caught by one of them,” Marvin spoke up. “I want some loose ends tied off.”

The Host’s mouth became a thin line, his bandages starting to dark with blood. “That . . . might just be enough.”

“Okay, so I’ve got Damien, what are we going to do about Ed?” Ethan asked. “Cause I’m not comfortable with the fact that I used to live by a child trafficking ring. Like, at all.”

“Run us through exactly what Ed said,” Mark looked at Patton.

“To wash the site, and some of his guys didn’t like that,” Patton answered. “Ed ordered them to do it because Dark wanted it taken care of, even if it was an L.O site. Whatever that is.”

“Okay,” Mark seemed to thinking through something in his head. “Was there any clue about what that meant?”

Patton shook his head.

“Mean love?” Robbie inquired, looking at Bing.

“If it does, I’ll eat my entire microprocessor, dude,” Bing answered.

“Hey, hot shot,” Joan looked over at King, their head tilting. “Do you remember anything in the books you used to manage about a L.O?”

“Unless it’s a name, no?” The animal magnet answered. “Cause those are the types of books I worked. I did inventory and reports on people, but I only know them by their initials, not by their faces or actual names. Dark never worked like that. At best, he used code names and hell I never learned what some of those meant, I just had to track what resources they had.”

“How many do you remember?” Ethan drumming his fingers once or twice.

“Probably about five names, but it sounds like you’re looking for an it, not a who.” King looked at the board full of papers and strings. “Maybe it’s a designation. You guys said That Ed was there, maybe it just part of his absolutely awful trafficking ring and less to do with Dark.”

“Then why would Dark order the site destroyed if it was disturbed,” Bob asked. “Dark doesn’t do anything unless it benefits him. I know, I used to get into fights with him and Warfstache. Wil and Anti are impulsive, Dark isn’t.”

“Perhaps there’s some book that could be traced back to him in the building or in an underground basement,” Logan suggested. “If Ed’s network could be traced back to specific areas Dark owns it gives us and the police grounds to have the place searched.”

“As if we don’t already,” Roman refuted. “He launders money and moves illegal firearms through the city and to the rest of the country. What difference does child trafficking make in the face of all the people he’s killed and the children he’s left orphaned. Dark and his cronies are enough of scumbags?”

“Well there must be some reason,” Logan looked back at Roman, the creative Side’s eyes scrutinizing him. “Dark is a creature of habit, he is observed doing and being at places on a daily basis. There must be some greater reason. The influencing needs must be either: emotional, physical, or monetary. We know he is an enemy of the public, so he must have ordered the site’s termination for some reason.”

“Dark’s only known emotions are rage and spite,” Mark scoffed.

“There must be some reason,” Logan seemed to get frustrated with something. “There has to be.”

Then Logan seemed to think on it, “Why would Dark take in a child and cultivate that child to adulthood? Perhaps we are asking the wrong question.”

“Well, I’ve got a crackpot theory that might mean nothing, but I’ll shoot,” Iplier answered. “I’ve been talking with the Detective and he might be doing it to have more control over Wilford and the town.”

“Vhy?” Henrik looked at his colleague. “Doesn’t he have zat zrough nepotism already.”

“If the paper trail’s wrong, nothing changes,” Iplier sighed. “If it’s right, Dark could sweep up even more of Egoton, so long as Trimmer is Wil’s kid, and Wil is a Barnum.”

“Fuck!” Mark swore, cradling his head in his hands. “No! Tell me you’re joking me.”

Iplier looked at Abe. Ethan, Bob, and Wade seemed equally distressed.

“Okay, is this an Egoton thing because that name’s not ringing any bells,” Patton smiled.

“Alright, long story,” Mark warned. “There’s three big rich families that all kinda disappeared about the same time. Barnum, Doomstrum, and Iplier.”

“Iplier?” Logan looked over at Dr. Iplier.

The American doctor shrugged dismissively, “My dad married in. Iplier might as well be a dead name.”

“So, the Doomstrums, the ones who owned the lake, were practicing some really shady stuff,” Mark relayed. “They might have even been the ones to bring Dark to Egoton in the first place. But they took all their wealth, and all the Barnum’s wealth and kinda time capsuled it with blood magic. Don’t know why, maybe because they knew Dark was on his way? But if a Barnum could access it, that combined wealth is a ridiculous amount of money, enough to buy up whatever parts of the city Dark doesn’t already have, and probably parts of the rest of all the other sectors with little resistance.”

Jack paled at that, “I can already think of three gangs who would jump ship at that.”

King looked over at Host, whispering, “Did you know about this?”

“The Author did not,” Host answered. “The Host does.”

“Why the wait?” Logan leaped out of his chair, as if he couldn’t stand being contained by it anymore. “If his aim is more accrued wealth, why not have Warfstache access it decades ago?”

“Don’t know,” Iplier asked. “We just found this out. Maybe the person who unlocks it has to be a Doomstrum too, maybe that’s why Dark kept this kid and not any other and Dark bought the mom off?”

Suddenly, Patton had an idea. He could almost audibly hear the light bulb going off in his head. “It’s Celine.”

Everyone snapped to look at him.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Think about it,” Patton began to ramble. “If Celine’s the mom that explains why she was here a couple months ago instead of when her kid was plastered all over the news. How Damien could be involved without Dark having to pay him off. He’s not being bribed, he’s probably being threatened. Because if, like the Doc said and he needs a Doomstrum too, then he needs the mom close enough to give him the kiddo in the first place, but easy to push out of the way.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Mark reminded.

“Celine is working with Dark, I don’t know how to prove it but she is,” Patton began to spiral. “Call it intuition or gut, but I can feel it.”

“Okay, well, feelings aren’t going to arrest someone who is, by all accounts, not in town anymore,” Mark said.

“I could find out,” Logan blurted out.

The room went quiet.

“How?” Marvin hyper focused on the logical Side.

“I’m probably the only one who could figure out,” Logan began to ramble under his breath, as if he didn’t hear the magician. “My position would certainly help me look, even if it is

A risky venture.”

“Hey, genius, what’s that supposed ta mean?” Marvin demanded.

J.J set his pocket watch on the table, loudly knocking to get everyone attention. Then he started signing where everyone could see. “We need to end the meeting. I don’t want to have this meeting a third time.”

“Third time?” Joan repeated in confusion and concern.

“Come on,” Marvin argued. “Ye can’t be serious.”

J.J stood up and signed something at Logan, Chase needing to translate it when it was clear Logan couldn’t understand it. “Return to work. Be careful.”

Logan stopped his rambling, and signed one of the few things he actually knew in sign language. “Thank you.”

Then he seemed to collect himself, speaking, “Your right, I’m probably just tired.”

Finally Logan left, Patton racing after him. “Lo, wait up.”

Roman stood up, “We have anything else to talk about?”

“We’re probably good enough,” Mark looked over at Abe and scanned the rest of the room. “Inheritance scheme or not, we need to get back to work.”

“Yeah, that bubblegum maniac won’t catch himself,” Abe agreed. “We can leave this up for everyone else.

Slowly the room began to pack up except for the cork board. The tension in the room between Marvin and the Host almost palpable.

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until-theend-oftheline · 5 years

Text

Baby Makes Three 2/2

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy stuff. Seb being a huge, happy dork. Shower sex - not extremely explicit but it’s there.

Square Filled: Pregnancy for @marvelfluffbingo

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: It can be read as a stand-alone but it takes place within my Lifelong Love Letter universe. It’s in the spring of 2013. Y/N is pregnant. I encourage you to at least read Baby Makes Three - part one first but this should be readable on its own as well.

These two parts are gonna follow Y/N and Seb during the most important day of their lives. Part one is gonna be told from your pov while part two will be from Seb’s. There’s gonna be an overlap in time but not all of it takes place during the same time.

Betaed by: @becs-bunker - thank you so much, Becki

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Sebastian was nervous as hell as he sat in the waiting room with you holding your hand. His mind went wild, coming up with all of the things that could be wrong with his child. A few weeks ago he hadn’t even known he was about to become a father and now all he could think about was how badly he wanted the baby to be healthy.

He was anxious but he didn’t want you to see that. He had messed up enough already. He could tell you were nervous too, so he needed not to be or at least not show you that he was right now.

He leaned in kissing your cheek and he relaxed a little when he earned a warm smile from you. There was so much he wanted to say to you at that moment. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you. That he had always loved you and always would. He wanted to make you a million promises but he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t get to say anything but assure you everything was going to be alright before your name was called.

He stood up to follow you before he all of a sudden stopped. He wanted nothing more than to be in that room with you, but he also wanted to give you the choice of deciding if you wanted that or not. It was both of your child but it was your body. It was your choice.

“Can I come in with you?” Sebastian asked, slightly nervous and you instantly turned around to look at him with a smile on your face. He could tell you thought he was being silly, but you weren’t mad at him in the slightest.

“You don’t get a choice,” you teased him with a grin, taking his hand in yours again. “Yes, Seba. I want you with us.”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat and it was all he could do to not pull you against him and kiss you senseless. He didn’t. He was sure that would have gotten him scolded since you were standing in the middle of a crowded room with a doctor waiting for you.

Instead, he followed you, letting you introduce yourself to the doctor until she turned towards him asking if this was the dad. Sebastian saw the worried look on your face out of the corner of his eye, but you had no reason to be. The word didn’t cause any panic within him. On the contrary, a warmth spread through his chest and he laughed, taking the doctors hand.

“I guess so. I’m Sebastian,” he introduced himself before the doctor guided you to sit down. She ran the two of you through a few standard questions. Sebastian listened intently to everything she had to say, occasionally asking a few questions of his own. This baby thing was all new to him and it was the one thing in his life he sure as hell didn’t want to screw up.

“Okay. I think that’s all. Are you two ready to meet your child?” Dr. McKnight finally asked and Sebastian felt the excitement bubble inside his chest.

“Fuck yes,” Sebastian answered without thinking earning a glare from you and Sebastian quickly lowered his eyes. Swearing at the doctor was not the smartest thing he had ever done and he surely didn’t want her to think badly of him or you to be angry with him for that matter.

“I mean yes,” he muttered, making the doctor laugh.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s far from the worst I heard in this line of work,” she smiled, “and I don’t think the baby can hear you just yet.”

Your giggle made Sebastian relax and he smiled as you gave his arm a squeeze. He smiled happily at you as you got on the bed, excited to finally get to see your child. He took his place next to you as you lifted your shirt for the doctor to apply the gel.

Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh at the little jump that you made and even the small playful glare you sent him couldn’t wipe the huge grin off his face. Sebastian was happier than he could ever remember being in his entire life.

“Okay. Let’s see what we can see,” Dr. McKnight said, pressing the scanner to your still flat belly, using it to spread around the gel. It wasn’t long before a smile appeared on her face and she turned the screen for you and Sebastian to see.

“There is your baby,” she pointed to the screen and Sebastian leaned closer to see the little blurb on the screen more closely. He couldn’t believe it. He could actually see small arms and legs. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. A peanut looking shape maybe, but not this. He was completely overwhelmed and still, he couldn’t seem to distract himself from the flicker on the screen.

“Doctor is that normal?” Sebastian asked pointing.

“Yes, Sebastian. That’s very normal. That’s your baby’s heartbeat. You can hear it too,” she said as she flicked something on the machine and a steady rhythm sounded through the room making Sebastian gasp.

He had never felt love like he did at that moment. This was his baby’s heartbeat. Your and his baby and they had a heartbeat. Sebastian stared at the screen in absolute awe of the small life growing inside of you.

“I’ll give the two of you a moment,” she smiled. “I think Dad wants a few pictures to take home.”

“I think Dad wants to take home the machine,” you laughed squeezing Sebastian’s hand. He knew you were teasing him, but he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he spoke.

“Yes please,” Sebastian answered making the doctor laugh.

“Well I think that might get me in trouble, but what about the next best thing? I can make you a video to bring home?” she offered and Sebastian’s face lit up further even if you hadn’t thought it possible.

“That would be amazing,” he answered, looking down at you beaming up at him. You were so beautiful and amazing. You were growing a human being inside of you. A little human that was part you and part him. Sebastian had loved you from the moment he had met you, but his love had just ten folded.

Dr. McKnight agreed with a smile, before excusing herself from the room and Sebastian instantly leaned down pressing a deep kiss to your lips. He felt your smile into the kiss which made him smile in return as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Sebastian was still smiling as he pulled back rubbing his nose against yours. He looked back to look at the screen again, giving your hand a squeeze.

“I can’t believe we made a little human,” he almost whispered.

He wasn’t sure how much longer you were in the office for. He just knew he sat with you, kissing your cheek and neck as you watched your baby on the screen for a while before the doctor returned. Sebastian tenderly helped you clean the gel off before taking your hand, supporting you off the bed and leading you back to the table. He listened intently to the information about the vitamins, what you should stay away from and where you could both find more information about what was going on with your body.

His arm was wrapped around you as you walked back towards the subway and as soon as you sat down in the train Sebastian pulled out the sonogram picture. You giggled next to him but leaned into his side looking at them with him.

“It’s so amazing. They are right in here,” Sebastian smiled, as he put his hand over your stomach and you laughed. You lovingly shook your head at him, and Sebastian leaned down to kiss you. He didn’t care about your teasing. You were absolutely perfect and you were having his child. He couldn’t be happier.

He was doting on you for the rest of the day. He stopped to sandwiches from your favorite bakery, after convincing you to come back home with him. You had sat on the couch talking about how you could turn Sebastian’s messy office into a nursery and all the things you were going to need.

You watched a movie and when your stomachs growled you headed to the kitchen, cooking together while touching and kissing in passing whenever you could. Sebastian was beaming. He felt as if he was floating. He loved you so damn much.

“Leave them,” Sebastian stopped you when you started getting ready to do the dishes after dinner. He gently turned you to face him and kissed you deeply before you could protest.

You were laughing when Sebastian broke his kiss and his heart skipped. God, he loved that sound and the way your eyes shined up at him.

“Are you in the mood for something Bash?” you teased, making Sebastian wiggly his eyebrows and smirk at you.

“With you? Always,” he played making you roll your eyes and mock sigh at him.

“Well that sounds exhausting,” you sassed, squealing when Sebastian wrapped his arms around you lifting you and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I don’t feel a lot of protests here Y/N/N,” Sebastian retorted, laughing when you rolled your eyes, tugging his hair.

“Shut up. Bathroom,” you ordered, giggling when a hopeful look appeared on Sebastian’s face.

“I need a shower but I guess you can join me if you want,” Sebastian felt goosebumps spread across his skin as you began kissing your way from his jaw to his neck. He closed his eyes for a second, not paying attention to where he was going and bumping his arm into the doorframe to the bathroom. He groaned in pain, letting you jump from his hold.

“You’re such a klutz,” you giggled, gently rubbing his arm, “are you okay honey?”

“Yeah…” Sebastian’s eyes met yours and he smiled. You were so damn beautiful. “I will be in a second,” he grinned, making you laugh as he kicked the door close behind you.

Your clothes quickly fell and Sebastian backed you into the shower. He loved the string of giggles that were falling from your lips, as you kissed and ran your hands all over each other. He reached behind you turning on the water, before lifting you into his arms again. You were laughing and running your hands over his shoulders and arms as he pressed you against the wall, kissing you passionately.

“I love you so much Seba,” there was so much love and adoration in your eyes when you spoke, it almost brought Sebastian to tears. You gently ran your fingers through his hair never breaking eye contact as you smiled softly.

Sebastian leaned forward kissing you again as he entered you, making you gasp against his lips.

“I love you too Y/N/N,” Sebastian kissed every inch of you he could reach as he held you. He stayed still inside of you, letting you both adjust to the feeling until you began begging him to move. He did as you asked, making love to you slowly under the warm water cascading down your bodies. Your hands wandered all over each other’s bodies, trying to convey just how much you loved each other as you kissed and moved in sync.

You came with his name falling from your lips. The sound combined with you pulsing around him, made Sebastian follow suit. Sebastian kept you in his arms, pressed up against the wall and his head rested against your shoulder as he waited for you both to come down. When he finally moved to pull out of you and let you back on your feet there was a cheeky smile on his face. He started peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. You cupped his face, looking at him.

Sebastian had never felt happier. You were going to be a family. You were having his baby. Sebastian felt a happy laughter bubble inside of him as he leaned down to kiss you over and over, causing you to laugh with him.

“We need to actually shower too, you dork,” you laughed, tugging at his hair and Sebastian finally pulled back a little with a groan of protest.

He let you turn around to get the soap. Sebastian let his eyes wander your body and a smile spread across his face, as he imagined how you would look a few months from now. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Let me,” he took the soap from your hands, making you smile and nod. He opted for using his hands rather than the sponge. He ran his soapy hands all over your body, spending a little extra time on you when he got to your boobs.

“I think they are clean now,” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, making Sebastian chuckle and kiss you softly.

“Turn around. I’ll get your hair,” he offered and you did as he asked, humming softly in contentment as he ran his fingers through your hair, messaging your scalp.

“You’re like a cat,” Sebastian laughed as you leaned into his touch. You wiggled your nose at him playfully without opening your eyes.

“Shut up and keep doing that,” you grinned.

Sebastian laughed and kissed your shoulder, before turning you under the water to rinse. He allowed you to wash him after and bent head chuckling as you giggled, trying to reach his hair.

After you were both done, Sebastian grabbed a huge fuzzy towel wrapping it around you and rubbing you a little as he kissed you sweetly, before even getting one for himself.

“Can I borrow a shirt? I need to go home to get some clothes tomorrow if we wanna start clearing your office,” you chatted as you dried off and Sebastian smiled to himself, watching you quietly as he dried off too.

“What?” you laughed as you caught him staring at you.

“You’re beautiful,” Sebastian answered you honestly, making you roll your eyes at him with a smile.

“Shut up. Can I borrow a shirt or not?” you asked again with a smile as Sebastian leaned in kissing your cheek.

“You don’t have to ask,” he replied softly, loving the big smile that appeared on your face before skipping off into his bedroom to get dressed.

Sebastian followed you shortly after, finding a shirt and boxers for himself. He put them on while never taking his eyes off you. You had found one of his white t-shirts and were now roaming around the drawer he had given you to use months ago. He smiled as a triumphant sound erupted from you and you pulled out a pair of panties pulling them on to wear under his shirt.

Sebastian groaned loudly, drawing your attention to him. The confusion on your face turned into a huge smile as you looked at him.

“What?”

“You were naked. In my shirt,” Sebastian growled playfully, crossing the room to pull you into his arms, smiling as you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“First off that sentence doesn’t make sense,” you teased

“Totally makes sense.”

“Secondly I was just completely naked in there with you,” you giggled, as Sebastian leaned down pecking your lips.

“Not the same,” he argued, making you giggle and wiggle out of his arms, heading for the bed.

“Wait,” Sebastian wrapped his hand around your wrist stopping you, “I wanna take a few pictures first.”

Sebastian smiled when he saw the confusion on your face as he gently tugged his shirt you were wearing up over your stomach. His smile grew when you started to laugh and shake your head at him.

“Seba I’m not even showing yet,” you argued as he made a knot beneath your breasts, before tugging you back against him.

“But you will soon. If we take pictures every week we can see the difference,” he explained, tilting his head with a smile as he saw the hesitation in your eyes.

“Please,” he begged, leaning down kissing your neck over and over, repeating himself. “Please, Y/N/N.”

“Ohmygod, you’re horrible,” you giggled, pushing him off you a little, cupping his face in your hands. “Will you let me sleep after?”

Sebastian nodded enthusiastically, loving the bell-like sound of your laughter falling from your lips as you took a step back, holding out your arms.

“Where do you want me?” you asked and Sebastian happily began guiding you into different positions. He snapped about fifteen pictures before you got fed up with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Sebastian hummed into the kiss, not noticing until it was too late that you had stolen the phone from his hand.

“Hey,” Sebastian protested but smiled as you put your hand on his chest backing him towards the bed.

“No more. Now we sleep,” you laughed pushing him into the bed before crawling in after him, resting your head against his chest and Sebastian instantly pulled you close. He couldn’t wait for what the future would bring, waking up beside you every day. You growing and glowing, carrying his child until they were ready for you to met them. Today had been one of the best in Sebastian’s life and he fell asleep with a huge smile on his face and you in his arms where you belonged.

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Sebastian Stan Tag Team

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#marvelfluffbingo 2019 #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fluff #mcu rpf #mcu imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #lll

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