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espinosaurusrexex · 11 months

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The Karens of the World

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader modern au

summary: Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

a/n: So I tried this website @nana1000night (make sure to check out their own chats) posted about and my ideas just started overflowing. I wrote this so quick, there may be some tenses errors, but the concept was so fun, I hope you like it.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fake dating trope, grumpy!Bucky AND protective!Bucky, bullying, a Karen (this should say it all, really), self-doubt, body dysmorphia, mentions of violence, and sooooo much fluff!

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ This movie altered my brain chemistry and also he looks so good OKAY BYE!

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that now, I really need your help,” you plead with a solid stare. But Bucky just broodily stares back at you with an unfazed expression. “Just answer the question, please.”

For a moment it seems as though he‘s squinting his eyes even more at you, trying to assess whether you are kidding or not. But you aren’t. You are in desperate need of help.

“Fine,” he finally breaks.

“Yes!” You exclaim before collecting yourself. “I mean: cool, cool... So, I’ll send you the details later and we can go from there.” You are a little nervous, but that’s what stressful situations do to you. And well, today definitely categorized as one.

“You’re a great friend, you know that, Buck? The best there is!” A desperate attempt to save the situation, but Bucky isn’t having it.

“Yeah, kid. Text me, do... whatever.” He huffs before he stands up to leave. You just wrinkle your nose at the little nickname he frequently calls you. It is stupid, but you don’t want him to call you ‘kid’. You would prefer it if he called you 'doll' or 'sweetheart' like he does all the other women. Hell, you’d even settle for your actual name, but he never calls you that.

You watch as he walks towards the door, but before he reaches it, he turns one more time just to send another annoyed look your way. Talk about being childish.

That was a week ago. And Bucky and you did, in fact, not ‘discuss the details later’. Bucky has merely stared at your messages, cursing himself for having agreed to the stupid plan you laid upon him. But he was committed to doing it anyway and the sooner it was over, the better.

You stare at your phone in silence, the simple text from Bucky making your stomach turn over and over.

I’ll be there.

He has written. And now there is no going back. Which is what you had planned, right? But Somehow, you are still nervous about the whole situation.

You stand in front of the mirror while tugging on the outfit you picked out for today. It is simple and light - perfect for a summer barbecue party. But you can’t help yourself when you look at your reflection. Your aunt Karen would have something mean to say about it anyway - she always does. And if it isn’t the lack of a partner (which is a problem you have temporarily solved for the day), it will be your body or your hair, or the way you speak, or the things you pursue in life. Karen is a textbook housewife, who has nothing to do all day but organize PTA meetings and condescend to everyone who doesn’t live up to her standards. And she has invited to her annual 4th of July party in her suburban family home in New Jersey. It wouldn’t bother you that much if meeting her wouldn’t always be connected to a huge amount of self-doubt and general mental chaos. It just bothers you that Karen makes you hate the parts about yourself you have never looked at critically before.

Your phone pings again - Bucky is here.

He just sits in the parking lot of your apartment building, his hands clenching the steering wheel tightly, and his eyes - as always - broodily staring ahead. He’s never done anything like this - He’s never pretended to be in an actual relationship. What if something goes wrong? What if they all see through this charade? Bucky wants to help you with your little ‘family problem’, as you have called it, but at the same time, he hates the situation he finds himself in because of it.

Bucky sits up straighter when he finally sees you running out of the door and towards his muddy truck. You look pretty, even if your hair is a little tousled from the small run you just did.

“Hey,” you greet with a smile after Bucky stares for a little too long. “Nice shirt.”

Bucky looks down on himself. He is wearing a striped short sleeve button-up that fits him very well, and you have to admit, that your eyes linger on the strip of skin revealed by the two undone buttons a little too long before they sway back to the window when you get inside his car. You feel your skin go up in flames at the thought of it again. Hopefully, this will all go well.

He isn't used to compliments, Bucky notes as he starts the car and backs out of the parking lot. This is just a courtesy; an easy greeting from a friend - no, actually his fake girlfriend for today - to loosen up the tension both of them feel. Bucky clears his throat while making a conscious effort to look away from the woman in his car, who makes him feel kind of... nervous all of a sudden.

The car ride is silent: no music, just the humming of the engine roaring in the background as you stare out the window and watch the trees pass by. Though when Bucky finally pulls into your aunt's neighborhood, you tense up and your hands become clammy - this feels like a really stupid idea all of a sudden.

Bucky parks the car on the street in front of your aunt’s huge house and looks at you. He raises an eyebrow upon noticing how timid you suddenly look.

Crap. Had this been your plan all along? To get him to agree to pose as your fake boyfriend, to have to face your terrible aunt?

Bucky swallows thickly when he takes in your state. “Do we really have to go in?” He asks still hopeful that you would just allow him to turn around again, but that obviously doesn’t happen.

“Unfortunately, we do.” You sigh after taking a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself. It shouldn’t be that hard, right? Just a little white lie to get you through the day. It will be over before you know it. “Thank you again for doing this Bucky, it really means a lot.” You smile one last time and then you get out of the car.

Bucky just watches as you walk towards the suburban home, impatiently waiting for him on the sidewalk where the driveway begins. He isn’t ready for this, but he had promised you.

❁ ❁ ❁

Your heart begins pumping in your chest when Bucky straightens up and takes your hand in his, the other hiding in his pocket. This is actually kinda nice. A squeeze of a hand then the ring of the doorbell. Two times.

“Oh, how wonderful you finally made it!” A slender woman with a blonde bob opens the door with a wide smile: Aunt Karen. “More than fashionably late, I see.” And then her eyes wander beside you where Bucky stands tall and steady with his hand still etched in yours. “Oh my, honey, is this the boyfriend you’ve been telling me about?”

Her eyes shine and for a moment it looks as though they were to pop out of her head from the way she’s gawking at Bucky. Okay, you get it, Bucky is good-looking. No need to think about breaking up your own marriage about it. Your roll your eyes before reminding yourself that you should restrain. The day has just started and you are ready to leave again.

Bucky looks at you uncomfortably, but your hand in his grounds him a little bit. He can’t make you deal with it alone anymore. He agreed to help you and this is - unfortunately - his mess as well now. God, he should remind himself to not be this stupid more often.

“Yes,” he swallows, “we are... uh... seeing each other.” Great job, that definitely didn’t sound forced. Bucky looks between you and your aunt for a moment, trying not to cringe at his own words.

You just send him an apologetic look before entering the house and let Karen pull you into a tight hug.

“Well, you have certainly gained little since the last time I saw you, I can barely fit my arms around you, honey,” Karen jokes but it hits deeper than that. “Must be that relationship weight, don’t we know it, huh?” Unbelievable, not even one minute in and she is already going at it.

You try to ignore the anxiety pooling up in your stomach as you watch Bucky squeeze aunt Karen’s hand a little too tightly. There’s nothing wrong with you, but these comments never cease to make you hate yourself a little bit.

Bucky smiles when he notices the discomfort on Karen's face after the handshake. She silently shakes her hand out and forces a bright smile, but he thinks the message came through. So, he decides against saying something just yet.

“Come on into the yard, the guests are all there!” The blonde woman rushes and leads you through the kitchen and out onto the porch from which you have a nice view of the party. There is a buffet set up, your uncle is at the grill, talking it up with his friends and the rest of the crowd is scattered across the lawn. Some people are playing corn hole and if the hostess weren’t such a pain in the ass, you could probably enjoy this party.

Luckily, Karen disappeared into the crowd once she greeted you, now there’s only Bucky and you.

“Thank God you’re here! I couldn’t stand talking to Grandpa Stan a minute longer. He’s all about his World War Two stories again.” An annoyed redhead approaches you from the side and your mood instantly lightens. You turn and see Tasha greet you with open arms and a playful smile. “You look nice!” She says upon seeing your expression and her smile quickly falters.

“Oh, no. What did she do this time?” She watches intensely, her hands squeezing your shoulders, but now that your cousin is here, there is no need to dwell in the state of depression Karen has put you in.

Bucky just stays silent as he watches you interact with the redhead. He’s trying to stay off to the side, as he doesn’t really know anyone very well. He’s not a social person, which was yet another reason why this whole thing had been a bad idea from the start, but now that he has seen why you needed a fake boyfriend, he is determined to honor his role for the day. He’d do anything to make Karen feel defeated and unsupported after what he has just witnessed. Because whether he likes it or not, you are his friend, and nobody messed with his friends like that.

A sense of protection overtakes him every time he sees Karen pass by close to the both of you, And Bucky has to restrain himself a couple too many times from laying his arm around you.

He watches people laughing and talking from afar, his face blank from expression, his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to you.

“Tasha this is Bucky.” You suddenly say and pull him closer, your arm remains around him and he is kind of glad that you officially give him permission to touch in this fake relationship. He blushes a little startled at the gesture anyway. He’s not used to it, but it's kind of nice.

“Bucky Barnes, right? Yeah, I’ve heard my mother talk about you.” Tasha says and Bucky just rolls his eyes. “And I see you’ve met her, too.” She laughs and Bucky knows she’s an ally. “I wish you good luck for today, our family is a menace.”

“Thanks.” Bucky looks over to Karen who is mingling with her guests and a wave of disgust overcomes him. “Hopefully she won’t ruin this holiday.”

“Oh, she will. You can count on it, actually. But with time you’ll learn to deal with it. We have Karen bingo cards at every event to cross off things she does or says. It’s fun if you make it fun. Don’t let her antics bother you too much. The suburbs are the only place she has something to say and she holds on to it for dear life... I pity her most of the time.” Tasha rambles on and on and Bucky takes a liking to her with every word. He smiles and so do you.

“Anyway, I gotta get Grandpa a beer but feel free to mingle, and,” Tasha turns to you as she grabs your hand for a brief moment, her eyes staring into yours intently. “Come find me if she gets too much, okay?”

You just nod at your cousin. Tasha is amazing and she always manages to calm you down after yet another unpleasant encounter with your aunt. God knows why she was cursed with such a pain of a mother, but Tasha makes the best out of it.

Bucky smiles and looks at Tasha walking away. He seems to have already relaxed with her somewhat, so he tries to take her advice and ignore Karen’s antics. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

❁ ❁ ❁

It's about 30 minutes later when you are off to talk to some other family members who haven’t seen you in a while and Bucky has decided to check out the buffet. He eats in silence, his gaze swaying over the yard - people watching. He finds comfort in it every now and then. But unfortunately, his peace isn’t lasting long.

“So Bucky, tell me. How did you and my niece meet?” Karen appears next to him and holds out a bottle of beer to him.

Bucky is a little startled but he swallows his hot dog and uses the time to come up with a story. What would you want him to say? Some romantic crap, probably, but Bucky would much rather tell her that you met at a burn-all-Karens petition downtown. Still, he can’t completely ignore his intrusive thoughts, so he simply takes the bottle and answers with a straight face as he watches Karen's expression falter.

“In prison.” Hopefully, this would shut her up.

"Oh? You are a prison guard?” She asks with intrigue, adamant that he is still the glorious man she makes him out to be, and Bucky just sends her a knowing smile.

“Something like that.”

The blonde bob shakes in his peripheral. “Well, it was only a matter of time until she would end up there.” Karen shrugs but Bucky feels anger bubbling inside him.

“What do you even mean by that?” It becomes harder to control himself now.

Your eyes move over to Bucky as you let your relative’s speech about the perfect lawn mower pass by you in a breeze. He looks slightly irritated and uncomfortable, his shoulders are tense but he’s holding up well, and Karen doesn’t seem to suspect anything. Of course she doesn’t, though, she is shallow.

“I just can't seem to believe that an attractive and interesting man such as yourself would settle for someone so... bland.” And just like that, snobbish middle-aged white women made it to the top of his blacklist.

Karen sips on her cocktail with a winning smile, she must have known how insecure she could make you with the confidence that radiated off of her right now.

The paper plate in Bucky’s hand crumbles at her words. His anger is clearly written on his features, turning solid by the second. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

It just bursts out of him, he can’t stop it - it just feels right. How dare this bitch call you boring? You of all people and not him? The anger crawls up his neck with every second he has to spend close to your aunt and at one point he can’t take it anymore.

“Bingo!” Someone yells from the back of the yard, but Bucky just looks at Karen with his death stare.

“Your niece is the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. She’s smart and kind and courageous and so unbelievably goodhearted. You don’t know how lucky you are to have her in your life. And yet all you do is patronize her. The fact that you don’t see that is seriously pathetic. You are a grown woman, for god’s sake. I highly recommend that you fix your attitude or I won’t be responsible for what happens next,” he sneers into Karen's flabbergasted face.

The whole party has gone quiet. People have stopped talking and are all turned to look at the disturbance with the potential to bring far more entertainment than anything else that they’re doing.

You decide to intervene before something else happens. You rush towards Bucky after excusing yourself and drag him out of the yard with a solid ‘Can I talk to you, babe?’. Bucky just glares at Karen for good measure before he lets himself be led away by you. He’s tense, with his hands clenching in fists, he looks like he’s ready to strangle your aunt - as if there is a lot more at play than your feelings in his response to her.

“I swear... that woman...” He grumbles with vicious eyes, he grinds his teeth in frustration and the muscles in his jaw pop a little.

“I know, but... well, that’s just how she is.”

“How have you gone this long without knocking her over with a bat?” You need to refrain from laughing out loud at Bucky’s comment.

“I can’t change it. Punching her won’t help. But, hey,” you push a white paper into his hand and upon short inspection, he realizes it’s a bingo card. “We can make fun of it. New round just started.”

You hug him and push a quick kiss to his cheek before you step back and let him calm down a bit. Bucky has to smile at the card in his hand and he looks down to hide the small blush creeping over the heated spot on his cheek. His hand covers the place you kissed and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When did he start feeling this way?

“Come on now. I want you to meet my Grandpa. I think you’ll get along well.”

❁ ❁ ❁

“Meet Stan, my grandfather.” You say once you reach the small circle of people that gathered around your grandfather.

“Pleased to meet you, sir. My name’s Bucky Barnes.” You watch them shake hands and Stan’s eyes brighten at the additional listener.

“Pleasure to meet you, young man. Grab yourself a beer and sit down I was just about to tell the story of how a grenade ended up going off right next to me.”

You exchange a short look with Tasha who has heard the story about as often as you have before, but when your eyes sway to Bucky, you notice the intrigue in his body language. He scrambles to sit down close to Stan with his hands folded over his knees.

“You’re telling me that you survived a grenade? A literal grenade?” Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up and it's like watching a child on Christmas Day. “You’re either tough as nails or incredibly lucky, sir.”

So, hooking Bucky up with your grandpa was a great success. He seemed to be the first person that was actually interested in Stan’s stories from the war. And while you had to not worry about Karen steering up more arguments with Bucky anymore, you watch him interact with the rest of your family with awe.

The day passes by and Bucky seems to catch a conversation with Stan every now and then. He’s interested in history and your grandfather seems like the perfect source for the answers he’s been seeking. But when the moon rises and the fireworks have died down, you decide it's time to go home.

Bucky is talking to your grandfather again when you approach him from behind. In a weird shoot of confidence, you wrap your arms around him and place a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“Are you ready to go home?” You’re a little nervous but you don’t pull away, and Bucky is strangely content with the amount of physical contact he’s gotten today. Still, he tries to stuff the weird feelings in his chest away when he turns in your arms.

“Yeah,” he looks at you with soft eyes, “I think I’m ready to go home.” But you can’t help but think that his statement holds a little more than the answer to your question.

❁ ❁ ❁

You smile when Bucky opens the car door for you. You didn’t expect it, and it almost looks as if Bucky didn’t expect it either, but you’re not complaining. He starts the car in silence but this time, there is faint music coming from the radio. The street lights pass by the window as you look out until your apartment complex comes into view.

Once the car is parked again, you turn around to Bucky. He makes no effort to move and it doesn’t bother you at all. It’s nice in the car. Cool from the AC and Bucky’s presence is a pleasant addition to the calm the car ride home has brought to you.

“Thank you for coming with me today. I know it wasn’t exactly what you expected and I am so sorry for my family. They are a lot... I just...” You fumble with your fingers before looking back up at him again. “I don’t think I would have survived this party without you. It really means a lot.” You finally finish and it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Bucky is quiet for a while, thinking about what you have just said. He feels weird thinking about how many of these family gatherings you had to endure without anyone stepping up for you before, and he has the strong urge to just cradle you in his arms and protect you from all the Karens of the world - let nothing ever touch you like that again. He had seen your heart break a little today and he didn’t like it at all.

His eyes avert from the windshield when he turns to you and gazes into your eyes intently. There’s a lot going on in them, but it all radiates comfort to you. And then, almost like a button has been pushed, he grabs your chin and pulls you closer, his hand running down your cheek. There’s a moment of complete standstill. Everything is zeroing in on him and then, after a beat or two, he pulls you into him and kisses you.

It's short and it's sweet but it holds more feelings than you have ever gotten from a kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes just run over your face. He doesn’t know what just happened and neither do you. It’s like a wild dream - a good one.

“What... what was that for?” Your whisper barely reaches his ears and Bucky struggles to construct a proper sentence with the way your eyes lock with his in awe.

“I... It’s... I just... couldn’t help myself,” he confesses while still shaking out of his trance. Uh oh. What if this was a mistake?

He attempts to pull away reluctantly, but you stop him. “No, no it’s fine,” you grab his hand and place it back on your face, “do it again, please.”

Bucky’s breath staggers when you say that and for a moment, he freezes completely. Is this really happening? And how is he feeling like this when he didn’t even see you this way when this day started?

The grip on his wrist is gentle, but he’s glued to you. Everything, every sense of his is pulled in your direction until you completely consume him. And he lets it happen. You haul him onto another kiss and this one is even better - more passionate, more... just more. He can’t get enough of you and he wonders how he has gone so long without it - this feeling of flying when you touch him.

Your hand grabs his shoulder and your fingers push into his tender muscles. It feels good, though and Bucky strives to have you even closer. The warmth is all-consuming but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, that the night outside his car is a hundred degrees or that just an hour ago this was all pretend. It certainly isn’t anymore.

“I really like you, Bucky. I hope my family didn’t chase you away. I know that they can be a handful sometimes, but you handled them so well and-“

“Doll,” Bucky stops you and your heart skips at the nickname. His eyes are shining in the dim light falling through the windshield, but you can still see every speck of grey in the deep blue. He’s trying to convey how he feels, but he believes it’s not enough. His nose nudges yours and then he whispers softly: “I really like you, too.”

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organabanana · 3 years

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(if i can) light the world up || supercorp

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers/Kelly Olsen

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Kelly Olsen, Andrea Rojas

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate Color AU, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Lena Luthor Doesn't Know Kara Danvers is Supergirl, mentions of past rojascorp, Rated for future chapters.

Summary: Lena Luthor sees the world in black and white. Like everyone else, she'll see colors for the first time when she meets her soulmate. And though she's not exactly convinced this system makes scientific sense, she's (mostly) made peace with it. When a fateful meeting with Supergirl makes her world burst into color, Lena is sure the amount of nonsense in her life has reached critical mass. But in just her first morning in National City, Lena manages to also be associated with a spacecraft explosion, and attract the journalistic attention of one Clark Kent and his sidekick, CatCo Magazine's Kara Danvers. And the worst part is, meeting Supergirl may have given Lena's world color, but she's sure it's Kara Danvers brightening it up. It's that 'all the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate AU', with Supercorp.

Notes: Written for FlashFictionFridays prompt 'undiscovered colors' as a tiny oneshot, but the idea wouldn't leave my head so I decided to turn it into a Proper Fic. It's all outlined and planned but I'm not sure how many chapters it'll end up being in the end so I'm leaving that up in the air for now!

[Part 1 on AO3]

Lena Luthor sees the world in black and white.

It’s not a metaphor, mind you. She literally sees the world in black and white. There are shades of gray, of course, but that’s it. That’s all.

And she knows, because she’s been told countless times, that it’s normal. It’s simply the way the world works. From infancy, she’s heard all about it in fairy tales and movies, in songs and in books and in conversations around her: you get your colors when you meet your soulmate.

And it’s not that Lena doesn’t believe it. It’d be illogical not to at this point. This isn’t an elaborate lie thought up by adults to keep children on their best behavior, like Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy. The whole world can’t be in on a lie. So it must be the truth. It’s just that it doesn’t make any sense.

How can meeting someone alter the way you perceive the world? And she doesn’t mean in the sense that the sun shines brighter and the birds chirp louder because you’re in love, or whatever nonsense people are trying to sell in Valentine’s Day cards these days.

No.

She means, how can meeting someone fundamentally alter the way your brain processes the information from your optic nerves? It doesn’t make any sense.

So she’s been trying to cheat the system for years. Ever since she realized just how ridiculous this whole thing was when she had to console a heartbroken Andrea in their dorm room after their first kiss didn’t result in a chromatic explosion for either of them.

What’s a soulmate, anyway? What is a soul, even?

Lena may have never seen the color green, but she’s learned its wavelength is between 500 and 565 nanometers. She’s built glasses that can tell you exactly the colors you’re looking at, even if you can’t see them. She knows colors objectively exist even if she’s never seen one, so it’s not that she needs visual proof to believe in the existence of something.

Well, then. What’s a soul? What’s its wavelength? Where’s the chemical footprint it leaves on the brain? How can you have a soulmate if there’s no such thing as a soul?

How can your full perception of the world hinge upon meeting someone whose alleged connection to you is based upon something that may very well not even exist? How can something so important — the ability to fully see the world as it is — hinge on something as arbitrary as meeting your so-called soulmate?

(No, sixteen-year-old Andrea Rojas was not particularly comforted by this speech.)

So this has always been a sort of side project for Lena. Figuring out how to cheat this nonsensical system. Whatever happens when you meet your alleged soulmate, there has to be a way to boil it down to its bare essentials. We’re made up of organs made up of tissues made up of cells. It’s chemistry, all of it. And if it’s chemistry, she can figure it out.

But not today.

Today is a big day. It’s the day Luthor Corp becomes L-Corp, and that’s far more important than debunking this soulmate nonsense everyone keeps eating up. It’s her first day in National City, and she’s so excited — so nervous, deep down — that she’s walking to work instead of taking her usual car. She wants to feel the city around her. Feel how different it is from Metropolis and let herself have the true fresh start she very much needs.

She’s so focused on all that, in fact, that she may not be paying too much attention when she crosses a street. She hears the screeching of rubber on asphalt, a loud horn… and suddenly she’s safe and sound on the other side of the street.

“Wh—“ Lena’s heart races as she looks at the car speeding through the crossing where she was a split second ago, and tries to make sense of how she managed to apparently teleport to the safety of the sidewalk. “What—?”

“Are you all right?” A woman’s voice snaps Lena out of her daze. “You really should pay more attention!”

Lena looks up to see a bright wide smile and a set of blue eyes staring back at her, not an ounce of judgment in them even though—

Wait.

Blue eyes.

Lena blinks, eyes widening at the realization that the woman’s hair is golden blond as it shines under the sunlight. There’s the lightest pink on her cheeks, which Lena takes as the result of saving someone’s life, and she’s wearing—

Oh.

“Supergirl,” Lena breathes out, and she’s not sure whether she’s having more difficulty wrapping her mind around suddenly seeing color, suddenly meeting Supergirl, or both of those things happening at the same time.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Supergirl looks slightly concerned. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“No!” Lena shakes her head. This is all a bit too much. Humans don’t have souls. Aliens likely don’t, either. Can Supergirl see colors, too? “No, I’m fine. I’m— thank you, Supergirl. I appreciate your help. Thanks.”

Supergirl doesn’t look too convinced, but she can’t ask any further questions before she hears something — she mutters something that sounds to Lena like ‘explosion’ — and flies away.

Lena wishes she could say she’s figured things out in the couple of hours between her near death experience and Clark Kent walking into her office with a young woman in tow, but she’d be lying.

There’s been an explosion, and she’s — of course — somehow linked to it via the never-ending source of issues that is her last name, and now Clark Kent is here to be an extremely unbiased reporter, she’s sure. With everything that’s going on, the last thing on her mind has been Supergirl and the colors she’s somehow brought into Lena’s life.

Mind you, she’s sure it’s all as simple as the force of being moved at superspeed having knocked something around in her nervous system and made a new connection somewhere. She’s sure she’ll figure it out as soon as she can focus on it for a moment. But right now she has far more important things in her mind.

Except.

If her theory is right, it was Supergirl’s superspeed making her see colors by accident. And if the generally accepted theory is right (but it is absolutely not), then it was meeting Supergirl, her soulmate (oh, good grief), what caused it.

So.

Why does meeting Kara Danvers, not-a-reporter-just-tagging-along, make every color around her suddenly more vibrant than before? Why has she just realized the green on the succulent by the window is not the exact same shade as the green on the folder on her desk?

Lena Luthor hates when things don’t make any sense.

#supercorp fanfic #supergirl fanfic #supercorp #supergirl fic #supercorp fic #fic

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eleanorbloom · 3 years

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When You're Ready Ch. 25

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, innuendos and Spanish dirty talk (with proper translations 😂) oh and lots of fluff Rated: T

Taglist: @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @freckles-spangledvampire @mercury84choices @curiousconch @thegreentwin @openheartfanfics

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Chapter 25. 24 Hours

It's a little soon

But I wanna come home to you

It had been forty days since she last put a foot in Edenbrook. Forty-six since the incident.

Memories of that day floored her mind as she was standing in front of Edenbrook Hospital looking for the strength, the bravery to come in.

The trauma about that place wasn't as big as it was in the first days when she couldn't even conceive being alone in a hospital room, worried that something could happen and she would be trapped there alone again; but was still there, leading her to catastrophic thoughts from time to time.

What if something happens again?

Eleanor couldn’t stop that question from popping up in her mind over and over again, but she’d reassure herself, over and over again, that anythingcould happen anywhere. It could've perfectly happened at the airport, on her way to Ohio, on her way back to Massachusetts. On her way to the hospital, even.

Anywhere.

So after a long, deep breath and ignoring her mind trying to trick her for the umpteenth time, she headed toward the entrance.

The hospital inside was with its usual hustle. People in and out at every moment; nurses, doctors, and other professionals deep in their work, some of them recognizing her and stopping to greet her, some others just giving her curious glances when she'd walk by their side.

Despite feeling overwhelmed by the amount of prying eyes and people inquiring about her state, she felt content with being back at Edenbrook. She’d been missing the familiarity of that place.

Banerji was as welcoming as she thought and happy to see her back at the hospital, though he didn't hesitate to tell her she could take more time if she needed. Eleanor thanked him for being so understanding during her time away but assured him that she was ready and therapy would help her in case things take a turn for the worse.

After chatting with Banerji about the hospital and life in general, Eleanor sauntered towards the Diagnostic Office, hoping she’d find Ethan to inform him personally about coming back to work the next day.

When she reached the glass walls, she found Ethan alone, deep in concentration reading something from his computer.

Her heart felt weird at the sight of him. The man she used to be in love with. It seemed almost impossible to think her heart belonged to him two months ago.

“Hello,” she said softly, standing at the entry.

His blue eyes widened by the sudden appearance, but quickly softened into a warm look when he recognized her, “Eleanor, what a surprise,” he said, standing and walking towards her, “How are you?”

“I’m doing better,” she shrugged, and both stared silently, awkwardly, unsure what to do next. But after everything had happened, there was no need to pretend anything, nor accentuate fondness when there wasn’t such or conceal coldness to not expose her feelings.

She wanted to believe they were already past that point, even if they only had two, almost three (normal) days to deal with the aftermaths of the end of them, and forty days apart seemed a good amount of time to do some healing.

So, she simply went for it and gave him a friendly greeting hug. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, so she greeted him just as she greeted her friends, just as Naveen greeted her that morning. Ethan was also her friend, despite everything, and maybe this was a way to show him she’d buried the hatchet after everything had happened between them.

Briefly stunned by the gesture, Ethan returned the embrace patting her gently in the back, "Are you visiting?" He asked while both were taking a seat at the circular table.

“Not really, I came to inform Naveen, and now to you, that I’ll come back to work tomorrow.”

“That’s good to hear. The Team hasn’t been the same without you.”

There was a tint of sadness in his voice and eyes when he said those words. There was more to it than the explicit meaning. It wasn’t just the Team, it was him he hadn't been the same without her, but that information didn’t mean anything to her. Maybe in another time, or another life, that would make her change her mind, would make her quiver and see hope in the hidden messages.

But not now.

At this point in her life, she was completely over him, and head over heels for Bryce Lahela and nothing could change that.

“And I’ve been missing using my brain for more than follow plots in my series,” she teased, trying to conceal the fact that she still could read him like a book, “I suppose I have a lot of journals to catch up with, too.”

Ethan chuckled, seeming a lot lighter than a few seconds ago, “Oh, yes you certainly have to.”

After catching up for an hour with Ethan about the team’s work, Eleanor headed to the cafeteria to have lunch with Bryce and some of her friends.

Late in the afternoon, after cleaning up last night's party and unpacking her suitcase, Eleanor took the T to Bryce's apartment.

There was still one person she needed to talk to.

When Eleanor stood outside the apartment door, loud music was heard inside, and a really passionate voice reciting a rap song with perfect speed and lyrics. Chuckling, she waited until the song was over to knock the door.

“Are you practicing for America’s Got Talent? 'Cause girl, you’re killin' it” she asked when Keiki opened the door, wearing Bryce’s red Stanford hoodie and a messy bun tied over her head.

“Ella!” she sighed before engulfing Eleanor in her arms, “Ohmygod, hi! What a surprise!”

"Hey, Keiks…" Eleanor replied, fighting back the tears. She didn't expect such a warm welcome from her at all, much less another spontaneous hug from her, but she returned it enthusiastically, "Oh, I missed you, kiddo, how are you?"

“I’m doing fine,” she assured, inviting her to come in, “I’m finishing my homework before studying for my history test tomorrow.”

“Woah. Bryce told me you had a test today too.”

As both approached the living room, Keiki grabbed a mix of notebooks, papers with concepts and diagrams, and some flashcards scattered all over the couch and piled them in the coffee table to let Eleanor take a seat beside her, “Yeah, Chemistry. Next week I’ll have my last two exams and I’ll be up to date with my curriculum.”

“Keiki, that’s amazing!” Eleanor congratulated, sitting on the couch, “And really impressive. Doing two months of exams in three weeks it’s a lot, I hope you get to learn well, though.”

“Oh, yeah. I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it, but I’ve got mostly As, so it was totally worth it the hard work.”

“It clearly paid off, you must be so proud! And Bryce too!”

"Yeah, he is, though it annoys me sometimes that he's so… nosy, like, he sits beside me to know what I'm studying, and he starts questioning me, and argh, you know how he is."

“Aww, but he’s trying to help you!”

“I know, it’s just…” she sighed, looking a bit conflicted, “My mom never sat beside me to study with me. Never. Only to ask me if I was doing good at school, etc, but she never actually cared about my… learning process, so I guess the whole thing it’s kind of new for me. I know I said I wanted him to show he cares about me, but sometimes it’s like.... too much…”

Eleanor nodded, encouraging her to keep talking. She knew how contradictory her confession was, even Keiki seemed to see it that way, but it was understandable. It wasn't easy to adjust to a new life where she had attention and genuine care, and that amount of worry, considering how independent Keiki was for being a fifteen-year-old, was certainly too much for her.

But she was happy for what that implied. Keiki was openly recognizing Bryce cared about her and was trying to give her as much time as he could, and that was progress compared to what she had felt a month ago.

She also felt happy Keiki still trusted her to share those things with her.

When Bryce arrived home, he was beside himself with happiness for having the two most important people in his life together again, joking with each other as Eleanor was finishing making dinner, and Keiki was setting the table.

He knew Keiki was over with whatever conflict she had with Eleanor, but seeing it materializing was different.

However, Bryce and Eleanor took things slow. She just stayed for dinner and before Keiki went to bed, she returned home to prep for her first day back at work. And the following weeks she didn’t spend more than two nights a week with Bryce to not alter the dynamics Bryce and Keiki were establishing since she started school.

Apart from the whole ‘over-worried Bryce about her studies’ thing, and the typical fights every adult has with a teenager, things ran smoothly between the Lahela siblings.

Both were doing their best to make it work.

Keiki had found a good group of friends at school with whom she used to spend her free time, and who had her back when some classmates tried to bully her when they found out about her family name. The first time it happened, she didn’t let them get under her skin and called them out and stood up for herself instantly, because there was nothing, and no one, who could ruin her peace now that she finally had a place to call home and people to call friends. She was done with the bullying.

One day, though, that attitude turned into suspension because she punched a boy who crossed the line with her, but Bryce, instead of scolding her, congratulated her by inviting her dining out for being so badass.

No one dared to talk about her after that day.

The first day back at work wasn’t easy for Eleanor. Nor the following days. From time to time certain things would trigger her trauma, making her remember painful details about that day, and consequently, cause panic attacks that would force her to lock herself in supply closets until the irrational fear was over. Luckily for her, some of those times happened when Bryce wasn’t in the OR, so he would sit on the floor with her to try to ease her mind or at least distract her until she was feeling good enough to come back to work.

Sometimes it happened out of nowhere, but most of the time it happened when she was walking outside the DT's patient room, or when she saw Danny attending his therapy sessions.

It overwhelmed her to see how weak he still was compared to her and even compared to Rafael, but Danny reassured her that he was doing fine, that he knew recovery would take him some time, but he was thankful for being alive and having another chance.

Sienna was happy with this second chance too.

Therapy helped her a lot, though. It helped her to unload the baggage she'd been carrying for so many years, and to not let her most recent trauma do more harm than it already had done. She was fighting hard to have her life back but to also be able to let all those fears in the past and give Bryce everything he deserved in their relationship.

She wanted to give him everything she once promised.

Between work, therapy, and trying to find ways to save Edenbrook, weeks happened in a blur, and before knowing it, the first days of snow arrived, and with that, the gift of a night of celebration with her friends, the Hopeful Hearts Gala.

“Why the smug smile on your face?” Eleanor asked, her arms locked around Bryce's neck as their bodies swayed to the beat of the music.

“Are you kidding? I’m the luckiest person here, dancing with the most beautiful woman in the whole world,” he said, grasping the fabric of her astonishingly beautiful red gown before lifting a hand to swirl her in one swift motion.

“Aw, mi amor. I have to disagree with you,” she said, placing both hands over his chest, feeling his warmth through the silky fabric of his blue floral button-up shirt, “I am the luckiest for calling the most handsome and loving man in the world my boyfriend, beat that.”

Bryce grinned before biting his lower lip “Okay, that’s really hard to beat, lots of people would kill to have your position.”

“Oh, I know, but you’re worth the fight, though I’d prefer not to fight at all, you know?”

“You don’t have to. I’m yours forever,” he whispered, and not missing a beat, Bryce leaned to brush his lips in her ear and added in a sultry voice, “and I’m counting the seconds until I take this dress off you and I make you mine.”

Eleanor lolled her head to the opposite side reflexively, feeling as a shiver was electrifying her entire body.

More than intoxicated with his innuendo, she turned to him and gave him a suggestive smile, “A couple more rounds with donors, and I’ll be all yours. Well, I am already yours, but I’ll allow you to use your prerogatives on me.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could do fancy dirty talk too.”

“It comes with the dress,” she purred before drawing her face an inch away from his lips, her eyes still fixated on his, “Once you get rid of it... te hablaré sucio como tanto te gusta.” (I’ll talk dirty to you just as you like it.)

“Oh, please stop it,” he growled, pressing her body against his, his now dark eyes gazing hungrily at her cherry lips.

“Cállame,” she challenged, arching a brow and parting her lips invitingly. (Shut me up)

“Gladly.”

Bryce didn’t hesitate a second and captured her lips on his, kissing her with eagerness for a brief two seconds. The place didn’t allow for more, but it was enough to leave her cheeks flushed and her eyes ignited with desire.

“Stop it or I’ll drag you outta here and we won’t get to talk with more donors for the entire night. I mean it.”

“Alright, seré una chica buena,” she said with her best angel face before taking his hand and leading him to a group of philanthropists standing by the drinks table. (I’ll be a good girl).

Suddenly, she felt his hand pinching her waist with deliberate force, “You’re gonna pay for this, Andrea,” he mumbled discreetly in her ear as both were walking between attendees and colleagues with perfect smiles on their faces.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said sweetly, before extending her hand to a posh couple debiting with a glass of champagne in their hands, “That’s precisely the point.”

When Eleanor opened her eyes the next morning, Bryce was already looking at her, his bare arms loosely tangled over her body.

“Good morning,” she said sleepily, tilting her head to kiss him.

“Morning gorgeous, how did you sleep?”

“Amazing, but…” A yawn interrupted her words, making her stretch between his arms, “I wouldn’t mind staying with you for another three hours.”

“Mmmmh, me neither,” he said softly, smiling pensively before embracing her.

After a minute of silence, Eleanor narrowed her eyes, stranged by how oddly quiet he was that morning. Bryce normally was noisy and chatty rather than pensive, much more considering the amazing and well-spent night they just had.

“Is something the matter? You’re kinda quiet this morning.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Love…” she stared at him, serious, waiting for his answer.

Bryce looked at her silently for a second, stroking her hair before answering, “I was thinking… Ok, I know this might be too much but I…”

Yeah, something was definitely happening because Bryce didn’t use to babble.

“I watched you sleeping for a while, you know? And I couldn't help but think how beautiful it would be to wake up like this every morning.”

She felt her chest swelling with a very well-known warmth at his words and the yearning smile he gave her.

“Oh, I see” she sighed, grinning nervously at him.

“And go to sleep every night with you by my side…” he continued, his hand now resting over her face, his thumb caressing her cheek, “And go to work together and… just live with you, babe.”

And her stomach fluttered with the images that started forming in her mind with every idea he was disclosing, and her whole body felt like melting, melting with that familiar warmth Bryce used to cause on her. With wonder.

As she wasn’t able to say a word, Bryce's smile faltered instantly, “Oh, babe, I’m sorry, it was just an idea, I didn't mean t-”

She shook her head, “It’s not that, I’d love to live with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that would be… god, perfect.”

“Then why don't we do it? I spoke to my landlord the other day because I wanna move to a bigger apartment with Keiki, and he let me terminate my lease early if I move between Christmas and New Year… ”

“Bryce… ”

She didn't know what to say. She loved the idea but a part of her was terrified about it. It terrified her she could screw it up again with Keiki. Or with Bryce.

But she knew she had to be braver than that. She’d been working on that in therapy and this was her first test.

“This could be our chance...” he persuaded, careful not to sound too insistent.

“Love, it’s not that simple.”

“Babe, if you don't want to do this just tell me, I won’t get mad because you don't feel ready.” His tone was earnest and there was no doubt he meant it.

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to, I do, but there are a lot of things we should consider before making that decision. The most important of all, Keiki. Have you even asked her what she thinks about this?”

He shook his head.

“Then you should start there. It took you a long way to get along with her, and making a decision like this without asking her could really damage her trust in you.”

"Mmm, you're right. Not because everything is okay now, it means she'll be okay with you moving in."

“Exactly. But even if she agrees, don’t you think it’s kind of… weird that we move together considering Edenbrook is closing and probably we’ll have to finish our residencies somewhere else, probably in different cities?”

Bryce furrowed his lips, thinking, “Not really? I plan to stay in the area, mostly for Keiki. I wouldn't like to force her to start over again in a new place and school. Salomon Kenmore and Mass Gen have great surgical programs so I’ll send my applications there as my first options. And… well, you told me the other day you were planning to apply to Mass Gen and BWH because those were your second and third options if you hadn't got admitted to Edenbrook. ”

“It's true. But what if I'm not accepted? If I end up, I don't know, in New York, or Cleveland?”

"Who cares? I mean, of course, it would be sad if we had to go to different cities, but is it really a reason to not take the chance now? We'd still have full five or six months ahead of us. Whether we end up here or not, we could enjoy this time while we can, and if in the end we both stay in Boston, much better."

Bryce was right. It didn't make sense worrying about something that wouldn't happen in several months when they had the chance now to live together for at least five months. All this, in the hypothetical case Keiki would agree to Eleanor moving with them.

“You’re right. It’s better five, six months than nothing.”

“Exactly, it’s making the most of our time together.”

Eleanor bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with excitement as new ideas started popping in her mind, unleashing all kind feelings and plans, "Awww, that would be so amazing! Having breakfast together before going to work, making groceries list, planning menus for the week…"

“And fighting who does the dishes or cleans the bathroom,” Bryce added, with the same excited tone Eleanor was using.

“Oh, and I’d yell at you every morning because you’re taking too much time in the shower.”

“And I would yell at you that you could join me instead of complaining.”

“But you can’t do that! Your sister’s here!”

“But it’s just a shower!”

“We both know it’s not just a shower, Bryce Lahela.”

“Damn, that’s true, but if we move to a bigger apartment with an ensuite bathroom,” Bryce gave her a mischievous smile, pressing her tightly against his warm body, “She wouldn’t even notice.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, suppressing the smirk forming on her lips at his insinuation, “You’re impossible.”

Ignoring her feigned glare, he continued, “And we’d have dinner the three of us every night, and we’d brush our teeth together before going to sleep, and then you’d snuggle up to me every time you have cold feet…”

“My love...”

The sole idea was enough for her to say yes, but she knew, she knew she had to think about it seriously, even if Keiki agreed. Moving together carried a lot of responsibilities, with their relationship and also with Keiki, so she couldn't make the decision lightly.

“I’ll talk to Keiki about this,” he assured as he saw the mix of hope and concern in her eyes.

“And I’ll think about it and… probably start my applications to secure a spot here in Boston.”

“Deal.”

They sealed the agreement with a soft, lingering kiss before getting up to start the day.

The proposal kept ringing in her head for several days. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to move in with him, but she knew there were a lot of obstacles to make that come true.

Keiki was one, but also the uncertain future about where she’d be next year. But even without the idea of moving in with Bryce, it was about time she did something about her residency.

She started looking for places besides her two first options. New York and Baltimore had good programs too so those could go in third and fourth place considering closeness with Boston. Cleveland was another, but mostly because it was in Ohio.

Once she had a secure list of hospitals, she decided to discuss her options with Ethan and see if he could write a recommendation letter to incorporate in her application.

However, part of her was worried he would question her choices, probably the fact that her first two options were unmovable partly because she wanted to stay close to Bryce and Keiki.

With the whole hospital working for the free clinic, it was hard to find free time, so as soon as she saw Ethan was taking a break to have lunch, she followed him to his office and explained the situation.

“Your list of preferences is fine in my opinion,” Ethan said after both discussed the programs she had chosen, “but I don't understand why you're so adamant with Mass Gen and Brigham in the first places. They are great, but John Hopkins has a better Diagnostics Department.”

“I know, but I'm trying to prioritize options that let me stay in the city. Good options. Mass Gen is second nationwide.”

Ethan nodded, his gaze pensive. He was fighting hard the urge to ask further, but he did it anyway, “Are you doing this for Lahela? Because I assume he’s planning to stay in the area for his sister.”

Eleanor was expecting the question, but that didn't make her feel any less startled. She knew that 80% of her decision was professional, that she chose those places because they were her options two years ago, and still were one of the best options in the rankings, but for a moment, his words made her feel like she was actually making it just for Bryce.

Was that inherently wrong? Probably so, but she knew herself enough to tell she'd never make a professional decision onlythinking about someone else.

“I’m not, but what if I was?” she asked, trying to placate her defiant tone.

“I just want to make sure you're making the choice that's best for you.”

Eleanor begged internally he wasn’t going to come with his paternalistic attitude as always.

“And this is, Ethan. As I said, I came up with my first two options because those were the places I would've gone if I hadn't been accepted here. But yes, I also have personal reasons for wanting to stay here. Bryce and I are considering moving in together, so it would be ideal if we stayed in the same city.”

Ethan looked baffled for a brief second. At the next, he was the same stoic Ethan she knew.

“If you're sure that's the best for you, I support your decision.”

But she could tell it was hard for him to say those words.

“You really mean that?”

He sighed.

"Look, if I have to be honest, I don't agree with you at all. Personally, I would never let anyone or anything interfere in my career, so my choices would be different from what you made…"

“But that's you…”

“Exactly, that's me, so it doesn't matter what I think. What matters is what you want, and if you're telling me this is important to you, that these are the best options to you, I have to respect that.”

Eleanor was agape. That was something Eleanor would've never seen it coming in a million years.

Ethan chuckled, amused by her reaction, “I know I spent a lot of time questioning your decisions, both professional and personal, but that time is over. As a colleague and friend, I can tell you're doing what's best for you, so I cannot do anything but support you.”

Yeah, it seemed the time apart, and all the time they had been spending since her returning had done something to mend their relationship. Three months ago Ethan wouldn’t have hesitated for a second to question and criticize her decisions and would’ve mocked her for taking Bryce into consideration, but instead, and for the first time, she was surprised in a goodway by Ethan.

"Thank you, Ethan, it makes me really happy knowing you're on my side."

“You’re welcome, Eleanor.”

Eleanor left his office, happy and more sure than ever about her decision.

When she was expecting the worst, ready to set boundaries and fight for her decision- even if she knew she didn't owe him any explanations about her decisions-, Ethan was surprising her with empathy and support.

They'd come a long way and finally, they were finding the balance.

A couple days later, the morning of her birthday, Eleanor was clocking out after a long shift. The idea of going home and having a nap before getting ready for her lunch date with Bryce was the only thing on her mind.

However, as soon as she got out of the hospital, the figure of a familiar teenager approaching made her stop in her tracks.

Keiki.

Eleanor almost didn't recognize her as her face was hidden under a light-blue parka and a white scarf tied around her neck. It was freezing outside.

“Keiks? Hey! What are you doing here? Bryce isn’t working today.”

“I know, I came to see you actually. Happy birthday!”

"Oh my god, Keikiii! You're too sweet! Thank you!" she squealed as Keiki was crushing her with a warm hug. "Aw, you might not want to hear this but you're almost as much of a good hugger as your brother."

Keiki blushed, “As long as you don't tell him, it's okay.”

“It'll be our little secret.”

“Great, now come with me, I have a surprise for you,” she said in a confidential tone before taking her hand and leading her to the parking lot.

“A surprise?”

“Yes, but it’ll take us a while to get there, so you have to be patient.”

After a short walk, they found Bryce waiting for them in the car. As soon as Eleanor sat shotgun, Bryce wrapped her in his arms instantly, peppering her with kisses over her lips and cheeks and down her jaw, “There's my birthday girl! Happy birthday again, beautiful.”

“Mmmh, you’re in the sweetest Goldie mode today, uh? I love it.”

“Hope this day is as good as you dreamed.”

“Well, with Keiki's surprise visit and the surprise that's coming, I'm sure it will be!”

Bryce stared at her silently for a moment, his gaze charged with hope and something hidden she couldn't quite decipher, but it made her more excited about the surprise.

Suddenly, the door of the back seat opened, “Are you two done? I’m freezing out here.”

“No, but you can cover your eyes if you can’t stand watching some innocent kisses,” Bryce teased, kissing Eleanor once again.

“I’ve seen more than enough between you two too many times.”

“It’s not like you’d get a disease if you watch us, you know?”

“Bryce!” Eleanor giggled, “Leave her alone! We are done, Keiks. Get in here! I cannot wait to see my surprise.”

After a ten minutes ride by the snowy streets of Boston, Keiki tied her white scarf around Eleanor’s head, covering her eyes as Bryce started slowing down the speed, “Okay, we’re closer to your surprise.”

“Oh man, I’m getting nervous now.”

“Don’t be, it’s safe and I’m sure you’ll like it,” Keiki assured softly, a tone she rarely used, as she helped her get out of the car.

As they began walking, Eleanor hooked her arm around Keiki's so she could lead her to their destination. Keiki didn't let her go any second, guiding her through the entry of a -she guessed- building, helping her to get into and out of the elevator, and then leading her through a hallway until a door closed behind them. Seconds later, Keiki untied the scarf.

“Surprise!”

After trying to adjust her eyes to the bright light, Eleanor found herself and Keiki alone in an empty room. It was an empty apartment, actually. White immaculate walls, big windows, a new, shiny kitchen, and a spacious living room.

“Keiki, wha...?”

The teenager bit her lower lip as she started to shorten the distance between Eleanor and her, “Bryce talked to me the other day about the idea of you moving in with us. I must confess at first I didn’t like the idea, thinking I’d feel the same I felt… well, you know when.”

Eleanor nodded silently.

“But then I thought… There’s nothing wrong with you, or with me, or with Bryce. We only had problems communicating, and thanks to you and the way you’ve cared about Bryce and me, we could solve those problems and now we’re both trying to make this work.”

“I’m glad you can see it that way now.”

“I know we never talked about it after what happened, but… I wanna apologize for being so unfair with you, for kind of blaming you when it wasn't your fault, and…”

Eleanor could sense Keiki it wasn't easy for her to speak so earnestly, but it was clear she meant every word and every feeling.

She breathed in deeply.

“And at the same time, I wanna thank you for always taking care of me. For always taking me into consideration and trying to do what's best for me, since the first day we met. You… You've become like a sister to me, Ella, the sister I didn't know I wanted, so thank you for being there for me.”

“Oh, Keiki, please, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Sorry not sorry,” she teased, her cheeks profusely blushed.

Her heart was so warm, she thought it would melt any second. And she was so happy, she thought she could fly any instant.

“Keiks… I had no idea you feel that way about me,” Eleanor hugged her, “Thank you for telling me.”

"Everything is true. I know I'm not the kind of person who says these things, but I really mean it. And I'd be so happy if you move in with us. And of course, my brother would be happy too. The happiest, actually."

Eleanor grinned broadly, her eyes glistening with joy. “You're like a sister to me too”, she confessed, throwing her arms around her again.

As if he knew it was the right time to get in, Bryce opened the door, and poked his head inside, “Can I come in now?”

“Yeah, weirdo, come in,” Keiki allowed, as Eleanor freed her from her embrace.

After drying her tears of joy with the back of her hand, Eleanor turned to Bryce, who was looking at her, expectantly.

“So, what do you think? I hope you don't mind spending the morning of your birthday looking for the perfect apartment to move in.”

Eleanor looked at Bryce, his eyes charged with hope and possibility. It was a possibility what she couldn't read early that morning. But she could now because her head and her heart were full of possibilities too, full of plans and a beautiful, bright future together with Bryce and Keiki.

And when she turned to Keiki, her smile was welcoming and her eyes sparkling with the same possibility. For once in her life, she wasn't hiding any of her emotions.

She thought about the things that had been holding her back. Right there, there was none.

Her heart wanted this. And she hadn’t realized how much she wanted it until that moment.

She was ready.

Ready to fully commit and take this new step with Bryce.

Ready to take this new responsibility with Keiki and try to give her the love and care she'd been lacking her whole life.

Ready to be part of this pretty little family.

Feeling an outburst of joy, Eleanor ran and clung to Bryce to smooch him sweetly, “I love it! I love it, I love it! And I love you!”

Bryce encircled his arms around her to lift her from the floor, his gaze devastatingly tender, “And I adore you, baby,” he whispered.

She rested her forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his breath before kissing him one last time. This was a moment she was sure she’d remember her whole life.

“Fun fact number one about domestic Eleanor,” Bryce said once Eleanor’s feet were back on the floor, “She’s actually a koala.”

Keiki, who was looking at the windows resisting the urge to laugh at the clingy scene, turned to her brother, “Oh, just as you’re a Goldie?" she retorted, mischievously.

“Exactly, Keiks! Exactly!” Eleanor said, chortling at the remark.

Grinning, Bryce approached his sister and rested an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side “Keiki needs a pet name.”

“Oh, no, no, no no, you leave me out of this,” the girl said, trying to get rid of her brother’s grip, to no avail.

“I agree with Bryce. You cannot be the only one in this family without a pet name.”

Keiki’s eyes widened at the mention of the word family. Forgetting completely the annoyed act, she smirked fondly at her and then to Bryce, realizing what she had in front of her.

Her family.

“Keiki is totally a cat,” Bryce stated seconds later, “She likes to be left alone, and only likes love when she asks for it, but not when you give it to her, and she hates me, just as cats hate dogs.”

“Oh my god yes! You'll be Kitty, then!”

“No, no way you’re gonna call me Kitty, anything but that,” she refused, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Grumpy Cat then.”

Eleanor cackled, and even Keiki couldn’t help the laugh.

“Love, Grumpy Cat? She’s not that grumpy.”

“If Bryce’s around, I am. So, as you'll only call me that way when we’re at home, it will totally suit me. Anything is better than Kitty at this point.”

"Grumpy Cat, Koala, and Goldie, quite the zoo, uh? Does this apartment allow animals?" Bryce asked.

“Bryce, don’t start with your dad jokes already!” Keiki scoffed, finally freed from Bryce’s arms, and sauntered towards one of the bedrooms, leaving Eleanor and Bryce alone in the empty living room.

Sharing a hopeful smile, Bryce took a few steps towards her and rested his hands over her hips, “Did you like the surprise? I hope this isn’t forcing you to make a decision.”

Eleanor encircled her arms around his neck, thoughtful.

“No, no, love, it was perfect. I’m actually… still a bit incredulous about what Keiki said and… well, that she agreed.”

“There's no way she wouldn't feel that way about you, babe. You've been so supportive and just… good and caring with her.”

“She's a good kiddo too, a girl that has been through a lot and didn't deserve any of what she had to live.”

“Lucky for her, her brother's girlfriend has the biggest, warmest heart this planet has ever seen, so she'll get all the love she deserves.”

Eleanor gave him a sweet peck on the lips before looking softly at him, eyes conveying nothing but adoration.

“Just as you will.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, my love. Every morning and every night of every day.”

-----

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. With the mess book 3 has been, this kind of fluff has been really therapeutic to write. Even the bit with Ethan helped me to recalibrate, because he's been insufferable in this book. Luckily, here I could portray him more as he actually is.

A big hug to everyone of you, and thanks again for reading ❤️

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #playchoices #open heart #choices stories you play #oh choices #open heart choices #oph fic #open heart fanfic #open heart fics

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ghostiewriter · 3 years

Text

chapter one | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ is starting to gain recognition around New York as the new hero in town. However, some complications arise with his new chemistry partner. Oh, and turns out he isn’t the only bloke around here with powers.

Warnings: John B is a simp, I feel like that needs a warning tbh. Umm there’s a lot of swearing (I’m Scottish, don’t judge), again some violence and fighting, also some cute ass moments between JJ and his mum so enjoy that

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: Sooo there’s finally some Jiara in this chapter!! Hope you enjoy👀and I’m not responsible for any feels caused by JJ and Georgia Maybank!!

masterlist // taglist // ao3

“Spider-Man does it again! Report of our favourite web-slinging hero saving the day once again after a fatal accident left an apartment complex on the corner of 5th and 36th street in flames. The teen hero arrived at the scene not long after the distress call was made to the local fire department and managed to rescue over twelve people that were trapped on the top floor. New York thanks Spider-Man once again.”

JJ grinned as he leaned back in his seat, sparing a smug look towards John B in the driver’s seat. JJ didn’t usually carpool with John B but it was getting colder and his extra-curricular activities were wearing him exhausted by morning. Plus, the last time JJ skated to school when he was half asleep, Pope had to pull him out of a trash can. Turns out raccoons can be very territorial and did not appreciate the blond taking a small visit into their home. He was pretty sure he still had scars on his back from some of those little bastards.

“Three weeks on the job and you already have a little fanbase,” John B commented, reaching over to turn the radio down a little since the reporter moved onto some irrelevant news neither of the boys cared about. “Soon you’ll have a swarm of fangirls chasing after you while you fight crime.”

“Don’t be jealous, JB,” JJ grinned, both arms behind his head as he looked at the passing view. “I’m sure one of my groupies will slum it down for you.” He teased, only laughing when he felt the flick on his forehead.

As much as he hated to admit it, JJ had seriously enjoyed the past three weeks. They were intense, impulsive and unpredictable. Just how JJ liked his life to be. It wasn’t easy at first though, it took a good few attempts before the people of New York actually labelled him as a hero. Maybe it was because he was some young bloke who popped out of nowhere with abilities that no could really understand. Or maybe it was because he was going around in a red ski mask, blue shirt, a red vest with an awfully drawn spider on it and some blue joggers. He looked like a right on idiot, especially with the chunky goggles Pope added to his costume. But if it kept his identity secret, then so be it. The last thing JJ wanted was a bunch of journalists swarming his apartment, especially since he wanted to keep this whole alter ego away from his parents. In fact, he wanted to keep it away from anyone who wasn’t John B or Pope.

It was safer that way.

“At least that’s one more that Pope.” John B said nonchalantly.

“As if, dude!” JJ scoffed, grinning at the distressed—and fairly high pitched—‘WHAT’ that came from the brunette. “Oh, c’mon, Pope created a whole ass bat signal for me! You just sit there and look pretty! Pope gets at least two groupies.” He said with a shrug.

It was true. JJ knew Pope was smart, but this was next level. After realising that JJ wasn’t getting the recognition he needed to be labelled a ‘superhero’, Pope had come up with the ingenuous idea to infiltrate the police radio stations. Not only did they have full access to updates on crimes around the city, but Pope even felt a little fancy and made it so JJ would get a notification sent to his phone the second there was a job for Spider-Man. That boy was way too smart for his own good, but JJ was grateful for it.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” John B asked with a teasing grin.

“Yeah,” JJ smiled, reaching to place his hand on John B’s shoulder with a squeeze. “Pretty fucking ugly.”

John B’s smile instantly dropped as he scowled at JJ, who was happily snickering at the sudden change in mood. “Whatever, Spider-boy.”

“Yikes, low blow.”

The rest of the journey was spent in a similar vibe, except with JJ checking his phone every five minutes. He couldn’t help it, but the past three weeks had been some of the most exciting in his life. JJ had been labelled the troublemaker his whole life, the one that was throwing pencils into Mrs Ramirez’s curls because they looked like little hoops. Or even just doing his damn best to avoid the work he was given. It was a force of habit. JJ’s brain was running at a million miles a second. Nothing could hold him down, keep him entertained for longer than thirty minutes at most. And his teachers had constantly reminded him that his impulsive nature and high energy would lead him nowhere good in life.

All JJ had to say to them now was a massive ‘FUCK YOU!’ because how wrong they were. It was those qualities that made JJ the perfect hero. He could react quick to a sudden change, he was always on his feet, he had found something that not only could he channel all his energy into—but he was damn good at it as well. John B and Pope had warned him that it was best to keep himself humble, to not get too arrogant. But who was he kidding? JJ made a pretty fucking bomb superhero and everyone loved him. It seemed like he deserved to feel arrogant, to soak in his time in the spotlight. He enjoyed every single second.

So, can you really blame JJ for checking his phone, wanting an excuse to put that mask on and do the one thing he is good at? Except for skateboarding. Everyone knew JJ was the best skater in Queens.

Unfortunately, there was no sudden crimes that JJ could use as excuse to ditch school. A true tragedy, if you asked him. It seems like he will just have to suffer through another day of learning things that either happened way too long ago, didn’t make sense to him or he just truly didn’t care about. Which just happened to be basically every subject—excluding wood-shop. Except he was taken out of the class because apparently making mini bongs for birds is not okay. Who would’ve thought.

“I don’t see what the issue is—it’s a fool-proof plan!” John B argued as the two boys made their way through the corridors of Midtown High. Only stopping once they reached John B’s locker where he exchanged his books and JJ checked out the hallway for anything that caught his eye.

“Bro, you have a ten-year plan to end up with Sarah Cameron,” JJ stated bluntly. “And even then, you end up as her second husband—“

“No one can prove what happened to the first.”

“It’s fucking sad, JB.”

“It’s a solid plan.” John B stated simply and shrugged his shoulders, deciding to ignore JJ as he rolled his eyes, muttering something about John B being a ‘hopeless fool’. John B only grinned wider and glanced at his watch before whispering a small ‘shit’ to himself. “I gotta go, see you at lunch.” And with that, John B was zooming his way down the corridor.

“You know it’s really creepy that you plan when you bump into her!” JJ called down the corridor, but he doubted John B heard him. “Like really fucking creepy…like restraining order level creepy!

Once he noticed John B’s head turn the corner, undoubtedly on his way to ‘coincidentally’ bump into Sarah Cameron, JJ calmly made his way to his first period class, not in a big rush to get there.

**********

You see, after the incident in wood shop and many others after that, the school had taken the decision to move JJ into a class they deemed more valuable of his time. Chemistry. Stick the ADHD kid in a room full of chemicals…seemed about right. However, JJ was being transferred half way through the term with absolutely no knowledge in chemistry other than how to make a Molotov cocktail. Therefore, he didn’t really see an issue in showing up to a class he was already hopeless in. His teacher disagreed.

“Mr Maybank, it’s nice of you to finally join us.” Mr Marino—a middle-aged bald man who had looked as though he had been through one too many divorces and contained most of his knowledge in the form of his beer belly—commented as JJ entered the class.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” JJ sighed dramatically.

“Let me guess: your alarm didn’t go off.”

“It was my pet monkey, sir. Has a mind of its own.”

“Your pet monkey?”

“Yup, his name is JB. Nasty wee guy but I keep him around, he’s a good laugh. Could do with a shower though.”

“Take a seat, Maybank.”

“I can feel the love.” JJ grinned before he turned to look at the class. It was set up with eight workbenches, two seats at each. His eyes scanned over each one before he caught an empty seat at the back-left workbench, the only empty seat—and just his luck it was next to the curly haired beauty for the trip.

JJ was starting to think he might actually enjoy this class.

“We just keep meeting, sweetheart. I think it’s a sign.” JJ whispered to her as he took his seat next to her, definitely sitting a little closer than he had to. He tried not to smirk when he noticed her subtly moving away from him. JJ always loved a challenge.

“Or a punishment.” She replied bluntly, not even sparing JJ a glance.

“Aw, is this how it’s going to be for the rest of the year, princess?” JJ muttered with a pout. He tried not to smile when she finally turned to look at him.

“Rafe got a concussion.” She hissed.

“So?” JJ frowned.

“So? You caused it!”

“And I should care because?”

“He is banned from the football team for six weeks!”

JJ stared at her blankly. “And…?”

“He is the captain!”

“Boohoo, they’ll survive without him.” JJ shrugged, leaning back in his stool as he flashed her one of his usual girl-charming smiles. “But hey, if you’re really stressed out about it, I’m sure I can help you find a way to relax.”

“You’re a pig.” She stated with a small huff, stubbornly turning to face the front, planning to not even give him the chance to redeem himself. Trust me when I say Kiara is an open person, always there to give people a second chance. But JJ Maybank was not one of those people. In the three times she had met him, he had been nothing but a shameless flirt who had no care for the world beyond his sex life. She could be judging him too quickly, but in her defence, he hadn’t given her anything else to work with.

However, Kiara assumed her behaviour was clear enough that she didn’t want to talk to him, that she could gladly go the rest of the year without willingly speaking to him. But this is JJ. Hyperactive, unable to sit still JJ. He didn’t get the hint.

“So, do anything interesting this weekend?” JJ asked her, that classic smirk of his on his lips. But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she kept her gaze on Mr Marino and his oh-so interesting talk on bond orbitals within an atom.

JJ raised his eyebrows when he received no reply from her. “Giving me the silent treatment now? That’s a bit rude.” He commented.

“So is giving someone a concussion.” She stated.

“Do you want to know what I did?” JJ asked.

“No.”

“Geez, princess, no one ever taught you manners?” He teased, taking the pen he was spinning between his fingers to gently poke her arm. She only huffed and moved her seat further away.

“Okay, alright, fine! I get it…” JJ trailed off, and Kiara couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. But she spoke to soon. She heard the scrape of a chair and suddenly she could feel the warmth of JJ right beside her, their elbows just touching.

“Is there an issue, Mr Maybank?” She heard Mr Marino call out but the boy next to her just shook his head, that mischievous glint shining in his eyes.

“No, please carry on, Alan.” The blond replied, his fingers tapping against the worktop counter.

Kiara sighed. She knew very well that she could put her hand up and complain, or even ask Mr Marino to change seats after class ended. But she was stubborn, and she would be damned if she gave JJ that satisfaction of knowing that he got under her skin.

This was going to be a long year.

**********

“She called me JB! That basically takes three years off my plan!”

“Dude, I don’t know if this is really sad or creepy now…” JJ grimaced. He had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to John B and his ‘coincidental’ encounter with Sarah Cameron. And if he was being honest, he was concerned for his friend. And his stomach…this boy needed to let JJ eat his lunch before he had to hear one more comment about how ‘yellow is totally her colour’.

“I mean, it just compliments her complexion so well! C’mon, how many people do you know that can pull of yellow and not looked totally washed out!” John B argued. But JJ just met him with a blank stare.

“When the fuck did you become a fashion expert?” JJ spoke up, his nose scrunched in confusion.

“I took a class once.”

JJ looked at him with his mouth agape. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Piss off, I wanted to learn how to dress better.”

“Says the guy that wears horrible thrifted Hawaiian shirts.” JJ deadpanned. John B only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back onto Sarah.

JJ followed his line of sight towards Sarah Cameron and her group, and he was shocked at the sight. He noticed the usual people in their uptown outfits and obnoxious laughs he could unfortunately hear from his seat. But it was the sight of his chemistry partner looking quite cosy under Rafe’s arm that caught him off-guard. His eyebrows furrowed a little, but hey, JJ should have seen this coming. The uptown kids like to stick with each other. Yet, JJ couldn’t help but find the sight quite uncomfortable to look at—Rafe had that effect on people. It was a surprise he managed to score…JJ paused. He had spent a whole hour with her and yet, he didn’t even know her name.

He nudged John B, yet neither one of them looked away from the group. “Hey JB, who’s Sarah’s new chick?”

“Who?”

“The pretty curly haired one standing next to her, dumbass.”

“Oh…I don’t actually know—“

“—Kiara Carrera. Relocated here from Kernersville, North Carolina. Her father owns a large chain of restaurants around the country. She is also the only junior other than yours truly doing three AP classes, including environmental science, biology and English.” Pope finished, panting a little considering he had literally just ran into the cafeteria and heard the last few words of their conversation.

JJ looked up at Pope with a mix of awe and fear. “What, you forgot her national insurance number as well? How the fuck do you know all that?”

“The school files.” Pope answered easily as he turned his laptop around and with the screen facing them, JJ decided he was definitely a little scared of Pope.

“Those are meant to be locked away in some super, secret network thing!” JJ hissed, only to be met with a smirking Pope.

“As if, it’s easy as fuck to hack something as amateur as the school’s firewall. Could do it with my eyes closed.” He grinned at the two of them. “Why, JJ? Hiding something from us like…I don’t know…your middle name being Belinda.” He snickered.

“YOUR NAME IS BELINDA?!” John B gasped, looking at JJ with wide eyes.

“Shut up, would you!” JJ hissed at the both of them, leaning over the table to flick John B on the forehead. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“Aww, Grammie Belinda.” John B cooed. JJ only glared at him.

“Hey, Grammie Belinda was a saint, don’t disrespect her like that.” JJ huffed, pointing a finger towards John B. He then turned to Pope who had made himself comfortable in the seat next to him.

“Why were you asking about Kiara?” Pope asked JJ, snatching a few chips from his plate. JJ swatted his hand away but didn’t stop Pope from doing it again. “Does JJ have a little crush?” He teased, pouting a little.

“Piss off,” JJ laughed as he nudged Pope with his shoulder. “She’s just my chemistry partner.”

“Ooh, so you guys have chemistry together?” John B grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, JB. Go back to stalking your little uptown princess.” JJ commented, returning the grin as both friends shook their head. They both knew the other meant no harm.

“Well, if you two little lovebirds are done having your moment,” Pope piped up, both boys looking over at him. “I need you to meet me on your rooftop at nine sharp tonight.”

“Damn, Pope, finally taking me out?”

“You wish, Spider-Boy,” He grinned, but the look he was giving made JJ a little nervous for what Pope had hidden up his sleeve. It could honestly range from a pet raccoon he befriended to creating some weird Frankenstein bug. “Just be there.”

John B pouted. “What about me?! Is this where I become the third-wheel?”

**********

“Mama?”

“In here!”

JJ dropped his bag by the couch as he made his way to the kitchen, the soft sound of the click telling him the door shut behind him. He sniffed the air as he walked in, seeing his mum at the stove and grinned a little, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“Spaghetti,” She hummed, a soft smile on her lips as she peeked a glance at her son. “How was school?”

“The usual,” He answered with a shrug as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before heading towards his usual spot on the counter. “Teachers still don’t appreciate my comments, Pope said smart things I didn’t understand and JB was a love-sick puppy.”

She grinned, shaking her head a little. “I find John B’s attempts to woo that girl quite admirable actually,” She commented. “It wouldn’t kill you to be a hopeless romantic every once in a while.” Yet, she only laughed when she saw JJ’s face scrunch up in disgust.

Despite JJ’s reputation for being an adrenaline junkie who loves to live life on the edge, these were actually his favourite moments. The little moments he shared with his mum, just the two of them. It is one of the few moments in his life where he feels relaxed, no expectations or pressures. And as sappy as it sounded—and no offence to John B and Pope—but JJ wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was one of his best friends, one of the few people in his life he truly cared about. People like her are the reason he enjoys being Spider-Man, because despite the shit people in the world, there were some genuinely good people out there, like Georgia Maybank.

It was hard to believe JJ and Georgia Maybank were related. She was a sweetheart, the type of woman who would take time out of her own life to volunteer at local food shelters despite having just done a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. She is the type of woman to buy flowers and hand them to strangers on the street just to brighten someone’s day. She is the type of woman who would work her ass off to give her son all that she could, despite the struggles she faced with the bills and rent because her son was her life. She was the opposite of JJ’s hyperactive self.

But boy, did they look very similar. From the sandy blonde hair the two of them shared, to the bright blue eyes, to even the exact same smile. JJ really was a carbon copy of his mother. And there was a small part of her, one she would never outwardly admit, that adored the fact JJ looked so much like her. Like a primal mother instinct, she loved her son and she loved that everyone knew he was her son. She would be damned if someone ever asked her to hide that.

Georgia was the type of mother that had that warm aura around her, the one that made you just trust her with your life. The hugs she gives just makes you want to stay in her arms forever, because everything is just better with Georgia Maybank. JJ knew that and he always reminded himself of that. No matter what shit he gets into, no matter how much he may envy the uptown kids—none of them will ever have Georgia Maybank and he would gladly flaunt that.

He may not have designer clothes or a fancy car to drive to school. But they don’t have Georgia Maybank, dancing around barefoot in the kitchen while she badly sings along to some old 80s song that is playing on the radio, just to make him crack a smile.

JJ grinned as his mother grabbed his hand, pulling off the counter before they jokingly began to waltz around the small kitchen, some classical song playing from the small radio that sat on the counter by the stove. JJ only laughed as he apologized for stepping on her toes again, but she didn’t mind. She just smiled and continued to dance.

“Why do I have to do this? I’m starving, woman!” He whined playfully as he twirled his mum around a few times.

“Because, JJ, one day you’re going to have a beautiful girl—or boy, I won’t assume—that will somehow fall for that charm of yours,” She spoke softly, placing a hand on her son’s cheek, a proud glint in her eyes when he rolled his eyes at her statement but still had a small smile on his face. “And I will be damned if I don’t teach my son how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“Nothing says romantic like stepping on a girl’s toes.” He stated bluntly.

Georgia only laughed and ruffled his hair before she turned back to the stove. She grabbed two plates, putting in a larger portion for JJ—which with his new transformation wouldn’t actually be enough but he will sneak out during the night to eat the leftovers when she’s asleep—before placing them on the small dining table in the corner, gesturing for him to join her.

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful, simply just JJ telling her about John B’s updated seven-year plan with Sarah Cameron and Georgia sharing any particularly interesting stories about patients she had to deal with during her shift. JJ really let this dinner sink in. As much as he loved his mother, her inability to say ‘no’ and be so giving kind of bothered him. Because she had taken up extra shifts for a few of her colleagues due to something about the ‘stress of wedding planning’. JJ had been seeing her less and less—and though it was good for his recent Spider-Man shenanigans—this dinner made him realise just how much he missed her. Just a nice, wee dinner with his mum, nothing else. And everything seemed to be going well, until he heard the radio presenter’s voice flowing through the kitchen.

“Locals say that Spider-Man is the next best thing to happen to New York since deep-fried pizza! But I don’t know, Janet. I mean, who is this kid? Where did he come from? There just seems to be a lot of unanswered questions with this so-called hero. Can we really trust some prepubescent boy who probably spends his day with his head in a textbook? It just doesn’t seem—“

The radio presenter was cut off by Georgia turning the volume down. “People can’t appreciate a good gesture anymore.” She huffed. JJ watched her closely as she finished off washing the last of the dishes before turning to face him, a small frown on her lips.

“I think he’s doing the city a favour.” JJ said half-heartedly with a shrug.

Georgia nodded, her fingers gently fiddling with chain around her neck, well more specifically the gold ring attached to it. “I know but,” She sighed. “What a shame, putting all this pressure on a poor teenage boy. Oh, I feel bad for his parents!”

JJ coughed a little. “It could be his decision, you know.”

Georgia continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “I could only imagine how stressful it would be have your son out there, throwing himself at danger.” She shook her head as she made her way to where JJ still sat at the dining table. “Promise me you wouldn’t do something so careless?” She asked sweetly, gently cupping his face in her hands as she looked down at him.

Now, JJ knew there was a teasing tone to her words. She wasn’t being serious because, how could she? Her son being a superhero with crazy powers? Not possible. She and JJ shared everything and it was because of that he couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. He hated lying to his mum, he hated keeping secrets from her. They were always close, JJ never felt the need to hide things from her. There was always such a comfortable vibe between them. But he knew how she would react if he told her the truth. He knew she would freak out and make him stop. And JJ didn’t want to stop. As much as he hated the guilt that bubbled inside him, he pushed it away and gave her a grin.

“Of course not, I would come up with a better name than Spider-Man.” He joked lightly and closed his eyes when he felt his mum press a kiss to his forehead. He nuzzled his head slightly as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against her stomach. He smiled softly when he felt her hands running through his hair, just like the way she used to do when he was younger and struggling to fall asleep. He tried to hold back a yawn.

“That’s my baby boy.” She said with a gentle laugh.

“Mama, I’m a not a baby! I’m a man now.” He whined but he didn’t pull away from her grip just yet. He missed his mum’s hugs, sue him.

“You’ll always be my baby boy.” She commented with a small shrug.

“Yeah, yeah,” He murmured. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at her, giving the best puppy-dog eyes he could. She was always a sucker for those. “Can I go hang out with JB and Pope tonight?” He asked with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Just be back before your father gets home.”

**********

JJ rubbed his hands together as he stared at the view from the roof. New York looked absolutely stunning this time of year, especially at night. The sky was pitch black, and it should’ve seemed daunting. But the bright lights of the city illuminated everything. It was mesmerising, a sight that JJ would never get tired of seeing. And with his newly discovered powers, he found something therapeutic about swinging around the city and being surrounded those bright lights. It felt like he was swinging through the stars—he obviously didn’t share that with the boys, they would take the piss out of him. Speaking of which…

“Where the fuck is he?” JJ hissed, turning to look at John B who only shrugged in response. As much as JJ liked New York at night, it was cold. The lower body temperature caused by the spider bite really didn’t help the situation. He had a hoodie and a jacket on and still the light breeze was making his teeth chatter.

“I don’t know.” John B shrugged. JJ rolled his eyes in annoyance. It was 9:15pm and JJ was about five minutes away from freezing to death.

Just then, the rooftop door opened and a wild Pope was sprinting towards then, panting heavily as he ripped his backpack off and quickly unzipped it. Words were leaving his lips but between the panting, neither of them could work out what he was saying.

“Dude, calm down, breathe!” John B exclaimed. Pope nodded and took a minute to catch himself.

“Your lives are gonna change forever!” He grinned before looking at JJ. “Strip.”

JJ raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Strip.”

“Dude, it’s like fifty fucking degrees, I am not gonna fucking strip!”

“Stop whining and do it!”

JJ huffed and started to take his clothes off, muttering some very…colourful phrases towards Pope. However, he didn’t get much time to question his friend’s demands because the second he was stripped down to his boxers, he had a bunch of fabric thrown at him.

“Wait…is this…?” He trailed off, looking at Pope with a new look of excitement shining in his eyes.

“You bet,” Pope grinned. “Say hello to your brand-new suit, Spider-Man.”

JJ excitedly began to pull the suit on, suddenly forgetting all about his theatrics with the cold. But Pope wasn’t done with his surprise.

“The suit is a total upgrade!” He began, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. “The fabric is strong but flexible. I have added small web-shooters to go over your spinneret glands so you can have a more direct shots. There are a few extra things I’ve added like a small heater to keep you warm and a few sensors, so we can keep track of your vitals. Oh, and for us—” He paused before handing John B a silver bracelet.

John B looked at the bracelet in confusion. “Uh, thanks?”

Pope only grinned and showed John B that he was wearing a similar bracelet. He slipped it off before unclipping a small oval shaped device from the middle of the bracelet. “This is the coolest part,” He nodded for John B to copy his movements. “To be honest, these took the longest. I had JJ’s suit done like two weeks ago but—”

“And you made me wait this long? Dude, I looked like a weirdo running around in joggers!” JJ groaned, but there was no real hostility in his voice.

“Just put on your mask, dude!”

JJ rolled his eyes but didn’t answer as he slipped the mask over his face. He was a bit surprised at how easily he could see through it, way better than the goggles he had before. The suit was a perfect fit—props to Pope after it took an hour to get all of JJ’s measurements. The material was tight and breathable, practically clinging onto JJ like a second skin. Oddly enough, he felt far more comfortable in it than his last costume. Pope clearly liked the colour scheme, having kept the red and blue palette but with a massive spider on his chest, with lines wrapping around him to look like a web. He looked totally badass, he felt badass. He felt like a proper hero from one of those comic books and posters Pope has around his room.

“So, how do I look?” JJ asked, flexing as he gave the boys a little spin. Pope only grinned, proud of his creation. John B gasped, clearly just as hyped as JJ was.

“Dude, your ass looks great.” John B commented, causing JJ to snort.

“When does it not look great?”

“Guys! The last surprise!” Pope piped up, causing both boys to stop staring at JJ’s ass and instead turn to him.

“These little guys,” He said, nodding between the small oval devices in his and John B’s hands. “Are gonna help us keep in contact with you while you’re swinging around. Little ear pieces so we can help you out and keep tabs on you if you need any help.”

“Where’s my bracelet?” JJ frowned beneath the mask.

“You don’t need one, dumbass. Your ear piece is connected into your mask!” Pope grinned proudly. JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“Pope, you fucking genius!” He yelled, and he pulled his friend into a tight hug. John B, feeling a little left out, quickly joined the hug.

“This is so cool, dude, now we are like an actual team!” John B grinned.

Pope was the first to pull back, looking at JJ with a wild look in his eyes. “I think it’s time for Spider-Man to show the city his new look.”

JJ grinned under the mask, already beginning to take a few steps back. “I think you’re right.” And without a second thought, he left himself fall off the edge of the building.

On that October night, New York watched their own hero swing through the streets, letting the cheers and whoops of the strangers sink in. They watched their hero in a new light, a more professional one. The next day, he was no longer that kid running around like some wannabe. He was Spider-Man, the new saviour of New York and a beloved hero.

It was wild what a good new suit could do for your reputation.

**********

“Did you see the pictures The Daily Bugle released?”

“He looked so hot!”

“I’d let him save me any day!”

“You don’t even know what he looks like…”

“So? Have you seen those arms? Nothing else matters!”

JJ couldn’t help but let the smirk on his face grow as he walked through the corridors of the school. It was the day after his new suit reveal and he wasn’t going to lie, he was soaking in all the attention. He was particularly enjoying the twitter thread that was made about his ass. John B didn’t lie, his ass did look good in this new suit.

He continued his way through the sea of students before he made it to his chemistry class, not surprised that people were still talking about Spider-Man. His eyes instantly glanced over at Kiara, who was sitting at their workbench scrolling through her phone.

He grinned as he quickly past the other students and sat quite comfortably in his seat. His eyebrows raised slightly when she didn’t react at first to his appearance. His curiosity got the best of him as he leaned towards her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. Now, JJ won’t lie to you, but when he saw her staring at pictures of Spider-Man, his ego definitely inflated a little. Okay, maybe more than a little but you get the point.

“You a fan?” He couldn’t help but ask, trying to keep his smirk to himself.

Kiara quickly snapped her head to look at him, slamming her phone down screen first onto the desk. “Can you mind your business?” She huffed, trying to calm her heartbeat a little. She didn’t even hear him come in, which is odd since usually you could hear JJ from a mile away.

“Aw, c’mon, Kiara! I thought we were besties now.” He grinned to her, wiggling his eyebrows a little. He leaned forward on the desk, bringing him a little closer to her. His forearms were pressed against the desk, his body leaning on them. She noticed how close their hands were. But after yesterday, she refused to left JJ get under her skin again. Or at least let him see how much he is bothering her. So, she stayed where she was, not moving back like he expected.

“You know my name.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement.

“Surprised?” He whispered, smirking a little when he noticed he wasn’t moving away. JJ risked it a little more and moved a bit closer.

“Took you long enough.” She replied with a shrug. JJ’s grin only widened.

“Oh yeah, counting down the days, princess?” He raised an eyebrow. He noticed her lips quirk a little, like she was fighting back a smile.

“You wish, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up.”

“I think someone has a little crush, Kiara.” He grinned at her, only to witness her roll her eyes and push him away.

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, Kiara.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t bother replying this time. She instead focused her gaze on the front of the class as Mr Marino entered the room, beginning the lesson. But if she had glanced over to the blond sitting on his right, she would’ve seen he was smiling throughout the whole lesson.

**********

“Thank you, dear!”

JJ nodded his head a little in acknowledgement and gave the older woman a small salute. “Always here to help, ma’am.” He said, handing her the small handbag that he had just rescued from the hands of some man who had tried to steal it from her.

“Aw, you’re really starting to win over the senior citizens.”

JJ rolled his eyes when he heard Pope’s voice through his earpiece. “Dude, I think she pinched my ass.”

“Lucky you, older woman, that’s hot.”

“JB, shut up.”

JJ snorted a little at the bickering, extending his arm out before he was swinging between the buildings with no trouble. He had been using any free time he had lately to be out in his suit, getting used to all the cool, extra bits that Pope had added. And he won’t lie, the boy really outdid himself. JJ felt like a total badass, being able to swing around and save people and feel like a real hero. He also enjoyed the change in attitude people had with him. He was Spider-Man, the city hero. He was appreciated. He was wanted. Not something JJ felt very often.

“Anything happening around town?” JJ asked, his eyes scanning the streets below, waiting to see any conflict. He couldn’t help but feel as though there was a part of him that was on edge. He couldn’t really explain it, it was like a bad shiver down his spine. It was a similar feeling he felt before that bank robbery fiasco a few weeks ago. It was a nasty wee feeling, one that had him on alert. Something was wrong, he didn’t know what. But he could sense it.

“Nah, everything seems to be fine. Maybe you should take a break, you’ve been swinging around for, like, three hours. You need to rest, dude.”

“What?” JJ muttered, so quiet that the boys on the other side barely heard him. That couldn’t be right, he can feel it. Something isn’t right, something bad is going to happen. “Guys, are you—”

He was cut off by a series of screams.

JJ’s body was reacting way before his brain did, like his hero side just leaped into action at the alert of any distress. He was swinging as fast as he could, his arms burning a little as he got closer and closer to the sound of those screams. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, could feel his heart rate pick up. The adrenaline coursing through him, making him forget about the burning in his muscles from the three hours of patrolling he had done.

“That’s fucking weird, there is no police reports coming through.”

JJ ignored the voices coming through the earpiece, his whole body feeling rigid as he crouched on top of a building, looking at the carnage below. There, in the middle of the square stood what looked like a moving black cloud. Civilians were screaming and running away, but the black cloud just remained. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was waiting for it to do something, to lash out. But it didn’t. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Pope if he was just imagining something when he heard the black cloud speak.

“Spider-Man, oh Spider-Man! Come out, come out wherever you are!” It spoke in a raspy, demonic voice. Whatever this way, it wasn’t human. JJ may have failed biology, but he knew that for sure.

“JJ, don’t. We are have no idea what this thing is. It could be a trap—”

“I got this, Pope.” JJ muttered, ignoring his friends’ pleas to think this through as he swung down, landing a couple of feet away from the black cloud. “You called?”

Suddenly, in the middle of the cloud, JJ swore he could see lips begin to materialise. He frowned beneath the mask but didn’t move away. His fist was clenched at the side, ready to react if the cloud tried anything.

“Ah, we finally meet, Spider-Man.” The cloud spoke again. The voice sent shivers down his spine. JJ pushed away that feeling of discomfort. Something about the cloud felt familiar, but he couldn’t tell what. It was like an annoying itch he couldn’t reach.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” JJ questioned. “Look, dude, if you’re a fan, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to scare away a whole block of people to get my attention. You can just ask for an autograph like everyone else.”

“JJ stop provoking it!”

“You’ll know me soon enough.” The voice replied ambiguously. JJ furrowed his eyebrows together. Whatever this cloud was, it was being far too vague for JJ’s liking.

“PEOPLE OF NEW YORK, I SPEAK OUT TO YOU!”

JJ winced, clutching his ears. His body was on high-alert, his ears sensitive to pick out any small noise or rustle. He looked at the cloud and then at his surroundings, noticing how every screen—every phone, every billboard, every electrical compliance in this vicinity that he could see—was projecting the black cloud. It was broadcasting to the whole city. JJ couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck the hidden camera was. How was it doing this?

“YOU LABEL THIS KID AS YOUR HERO! YOU TRUST THIS CHILD WITH YOUR LIVES! YOU ARE FOOLISH!” The voice boomed, suddenly the black cloud began to form tentacles that were slithering from whatever was at the centre of it. “LET ME SHOW YOU THE TRUTH! LET ME SHOW YOU WHO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT YOU!”

JJ was a little too distracted by the concept of a cloud broadcasting to the city that he didn’t even notice one of the tentacles slithering towards him. It wrapped itself around his leg before swinging him into the nearest building.

JJ let out a small oomph as his body made contact with the brick wall. He could hear yelling in the distance, the sounds of people screaming. But nothing was overpowering the ringing in his ears as he slowly dragged himself to stand up.

“JJ, GET UP! JJ!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He muttered, blinking a few times before he turned back to look at the cloud. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and quickly rolled over to the side, the tentacle that threw him smashing into the wall not even a second later. That rush of adrenaline hitting JJ again as he quickly swung out of there, not even looking behind him until he knew he was a good distance away to assess the situation.

“IS THIS WHO YOU WANT PROTECTING YOU? A COWARDLY TEENAGER? C’MON, SPIDER-MAN! LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT!”

JJ swore under his breath, trying to catch up with his thoughts as he watched more tentacles appear from the cloud. “Where the fuck are they coming from?” He muttered before swinging down to a lower building rooftop, crouching at the edge. He narrowed his eyes as he extended his hand out, shooting a web towards the centre of the cloud. There had to be something solid within this thing, something he can grip on to, something he can fight. But he was met with nothing. “Fuck.” He frowned before he began to crawl down the side of the building.

“You seem a bit jealous, mate!” JJ called out, watching as all eight of the tentacles seemed to snap their attention towards him. God, that was scary. “Don’t you have to tell me some wild origin story before you kill me?”

“MY AIM ISN’T TO KILL YOU, SPIDER-MAN. NOT YET!”

“Oh, that’s really reassuring, thank you so much.”

“I WANT NEW YORK TO SEE HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE. HOW USELESS THEIR SAVIOUR IS.”

“A bit of an odd wish, if you ask me.” He murmured to himself, quickly snapping his wrist before swinging around the black cloud. He watched as the tentacles reached out for him, just grazing him as he swung between the buildings.

“JJ, FIGHT BACK!”

“How the fuck do I fight something that isn’t solid? Get a vacuum? If you have one big enough, please do share. Call the ghostbusters or something!”

He heard more screams, some closer than he expected. He assumed everyone ran off, but when he turned his head to the side, he noticed a man standing there, frozen in fear. More importantly, he saw a car heading straight towards the scared man.

“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ yelled as he quickly yanked his web, spinning around and landing in front of the man, his hands extended out in front of him. Seconds later he felt the impact of the car, the weight and momentum it came crashing in at hit him strong enough to make him slide back a few feet. “Go, dude!” He yelled at the man, who had finally come to his senses and thanked JJ profusely before sprinting away. JJ groaned and threw the car away from him, huffing slightly.

“HOLY SHIT, JJ! THAT WAS A CAR!”

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock! I thought it was Barbie’s Dreamhouse.” Only JJ would be sarcastic while his life is in threat.

But it was that sarcasm that distracted him long enough for one of the tentacles wrap around his ankle, yanking him down from the small jump he had taken so the web he was currently gripping snapped with ease, preventing him a quick escape like he planned. He didn’t even have time to scream before he noticed the tentacle bringing him closer to the middle of the cloud, his eyes widening slightly.

He wiggled around in the tentacle’s grip, trying to find a way out but it was relentless. He wasn’t sure what was real or not, not sure if he imagined screaming in his head or if he actually did as he was dropped into the centre of the cloud.

Then, he felt nothing.

JJ was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or not, but it was dark. He tried to move his arm, but it felt constricted, like he was swimming in something really thick. His brain was screaming at him to call out for Pope and John B, to move his hands and swing out of here, to do something. But another part of JJ felt completely content in this situation. He couldn’t explain it, but something washed over him, like a massive electric shock that made him aware of just how…familiar this seemed. It was similar to the feeling he had earlier.

He felt safe, understood.

And then that feeling was gone.

Suddenly, JJ found himself being thrown around in circles, something holding a tight grip on his ankle. But soon enough, that let go too and JJ was soon flying through the air, too out of it to even react fast enough to web onto something or soften his eventual crash.

JJ felt the air be completely knocked out of him, his body bouncing off the concrete a couple of times before he rolled over. It took him a few attempts to finally open his eyes, take in his surroundings, to see he was in some dingy alleyway. He turned his head to the side, briefly seeing a black blob in the distance. He could hear some muffled yelling.

“HEED THIS AS A WARNING, SPIDER-MAN. NEXT TIME WE MEET, IT WILL BE OUR LAST!”

JJ vaguely furrowed his eyebrows together before turning his head to stare at the blue sky above instead. When the ringing and the muffling was over, he could hear the screams of his friends coming through the earpiece.

“JJ! JJ, PLEASE FUCKING ANSWER, DUDE!”

“JJ, ARE YOU DEAD?!”

“WHY WOULD HE FUCKING ANSWER IF HE WAS DEAD!”

“SHUT UP, I’M FLUSTERED!”

JJ frowned a little, his whole throat felt dry and numb. There was also a metallic taste in his mouth that told him he must’ve bitten his tongue at some point. God, he hated the taste of blood. “It…It felt…”

“OH MY GOD, JJ!”

“IT FELT LIKE WHAT BUD? YOU GOOD?”

“It felt just like me.” He finally got out.

Then everything went black.

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #kiara carrera #jj maybank x kiara carrera #outer banks fanfiction #jiara fanfiction #spiderman au #marvel #tale of a slightly unstable teen hero #obx fic #my fic

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firebirdsdaughter · 3 years

Text

Look…

… I am a strong believer in there being no gold standard for writing and I am by no means a professional, but…

I just think, amongst many other things, a lot was wasted in the potential of Fuwa and Aruto’s dynamic and a secondary - primary relationship. I have many Opinions about Aruto and how he was written, but when I did like him, a great deal of it involved his relationship w/ Fuwa. Fumiya and Okada nailed this incredibly familial chemistry as their characters got to interact more. Enough that, even though I was steadily becoming more disconnected from Aruto, I felt emotions during stuff like Gai mind controlling Fuwa into attacking Aruto, and the choice to try and use Fuwa to shoot Izu. It felt so absolutely cruel and befitting of behaviour we’d seen from Gai, like how he made Yua explain the chips just to be an ass bc he knew Fuwa still trusted her. It wasn’t long before my brain would look at them together and just be like ‘that’s his dad now’ (in canon they’re only five years apart, but time has no meaning here). I don’t know if it was a pandemic thing, but that’s part of why Aruto’s largely frigid reactions to stuff like Gai mind controlling Fuwa, trying to kill Fuwa, Fuwa clearly being Not Okay w/ having some ai he didn’t know unknowingly forced into his brain taking over his body w/out warning, Fuwa finding out his memory was altered… I don’t take this out on Fumiya, bc see above about their chemistry, and Fumiya is an excellent young actor, I feel like he could have pulled off giving Aruto many more nuances than he was allowed to have. It was the blocking apparently telling him to just stand there and look vaguely sad, and it… Felt unnatural considering what happened when the actors had something to work w/. They wouldn’t even have needed to give him lines, Fumiya does a great sad/worried look!

It’s another way I’m disappointed w/ how they dropped the familial aspect. Ikazuchi and Subaru are only ‘like real brothers’ (unless you ask Horobi), Horobi is only ‘trying to be like a father to Jin.’ Aruto goes on about HumaGear being family to him but it never comes up again, he’s all over Wazu and Izu being siblings, but never allows any other HumaGear to have that honour, and Wazu is never even mentioned again, outside of maybe the clipshow. Now one of my biggest pet peeves w/ this is that if Izu and Wazu are siblings and Ikazuchi and Subaru are siblings, then by the definition, Soreo and Horobi are brothers. Why did you sleep on this Takahashi???? WHY??? Even w/ the ending you wrote, this’d add more layers??? W H Y????

But. Ah. To the point this post was supposed to be about—even if it was meant to focus on Fuwa and Yua (who are somehow a brotp even though I’m not personally fond of Yua… how does Takahashi do this???), I feel like there should have been a stronger undertone from Aruto. Bc let’s think for a minute about what has happened to all the other older brother/father figures in Aruto’s life. His human father died when he was very young. The HumaGear version died saving him from an explosion. Whatever his relationship w/ Korenosuke (and esp if it was bad/tense), Korenosuke dies at the star of the story. Wazu, even, who you could make an argument for, dies. Sure, I guess his dad is in Zea now (? I dunno, apparently everyone is in Zea now, that wasn’t the best handled plot point… Then again, nothing involving all of That was well handled), but he’s still effectively dead. You’d feel like Aruto should be making a bigger deal about potentially losing another surrogate father/brother figure (you’d also think that Horobi’s connecting to Soreo would mean something, but I don’t pretend to understand Takahashi’s thought process).

Ultimately, though, I’m just left w/ this powerful set up w/ great chemistry that I was originally excited for but never felt like it was really allowed to run it’s course. I know Takahashi isn’t one for detailed character focus or development, but… Like many other things in 01, I felt like I needed… More. And it never happened.

#Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #I was so excited for their development #I thought Aruto would effect Fuwa and Fuwa could effect Aruto #but Aruto learns nothing and Fuwa… Kinda ate screen time ^^;#I love him but he did #I loved their potential as a primary - secondary they were a solid set up #that chemistry could not be more familial if they were actually related #but it felt like it went to waste #like a great deal of things around Aruto did #Fumiya is a great actor but in the end I just felt like he was wasted in many ways #same w/ Noa #the most frustrating thing was you didn't even need to write lines for him #he could rush over to Fuwa or at least start towards him #that disappointed reaction when Fuwa was like 'I'm not Naki' super put me off for ex #and for all I have Opinions a lot of this felt very ooc for Aruto at least the one from the start #esp bc again this is a young man who has lost—some in very traumatic ways—every other older male figure in his life #there's just this untapped potential that makes me want to throw things #even though I am already throwing them for other reasons #Binary Retro Rider

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afterglowparker · 5 years

Text

Only a Matter of Time (Part 1 - When)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 4,403

Warnings: A dose (ton) of fluff. Soft angst.

Prompt: Friends to Lovers AU

Summary: Peter reminisces on the moments he fell in love with you.

A/N: This is a piece that has lived in my mind for quite some time; it is also my entry for @h-osterfield’s 5k writing challenge. Congrats on this milestone and happy birthday, Kat! I hope you all enjoy the first part of this mini-series.

If you feel inclined to do so, listen to Us the Duo’s “I Will Wait For You” as it is the song that largely inspired this piece. :)

Peter wasn’t sure of the exact moment when he fell for you; maybe, he’d always been in love with you. That part was clear as crystal to him: he was in love. Sometimes, he thought he had fallen in love with you that first day you stepped foot into Midtown High.

“Hey, are you here for AP Chemistry?”

A soft voice broke through Peter and Ned’s conversation, causing the fluffy haired brunette to turn around, his words dying in his throat as he gaped at the girl in front of him: she was beautiful. High waisted dark blue jeans, with white stripes, adorned her legs, while an oversized cropped white shirt, with some logo Peter didn’t recognize, hung off her upper body. He took note of the way her fingers drummed against the handful of textbooks in her arms and how she subtly tried to shrug the strap of her bag back up her right shoulder; the thin layer of perspiration on her forehead gave way to the nerves she was feeling and Peter tried to form a smile, still not quite able to get words out of his mouth.

Say something! He yelled at himself internally. Literally anything! Or at least close your mouth! What are you doing?!

“It’s uh, this is, uh,” Peter’s tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips, as he struggled to form a coherent sentence, his cheeks warming as the girl in front of him furrowed her brows at him.

“This is AP Chemistry. Unfortunately. I wish it was something more interesting.” Ned interjected, trying to save his best friend from the growing awkward tension, and smiling at his new classmate; you returned it with a tight-lipped smile.

“Okay, yeah, thanks. Sorry, just wanted to make sure before I settled in. Nothing worse than being in the wrong place and having to awkwardly get up in the middle of the teacher talking,” You replied as you shuffled to sit at the desk behind the two boys.

Ned turned around in his seat, so he was able to continue the conversation, Peter mirroring his actions.

“So are you a transfer? I mean, I assume so, cuz I haven’t seen you around Midtown before.”

“I am actually. My Dad recently got a job offer or promotion of some sort that required us to move out here. We just got in yesterday so it’s all kind of crazy.”

“Oh well, I’m Ned. I think you’ll really like it here at Midtown. The people aren’t so bad, save for a few. Lunch is questionable, so maybe bring your own. And for the most part the teachers are pretty chill.”

You smiled, grateful for the kind boy in front of you, your nerves about not being able to form any friendships in the middle of the year beginning to fade.

“I’m Y/N. I really appreciate all of that by the way. I’ll be sure to come to you with any questions I may have about this place,” you laughed, eyes darting to the right to see that Ned’s desk-mate was still staring at you, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, “Uh…is he okay?”

Ned looked to his left, lightly shoving Peter as he answered.

“Peter? Yeah, he’s good. I think he just thinks you’re pretty.”

Heat instantly shot up your neck and you felt the tips of your ears begin to burn, as Peter’s head whipped to his right, eyes wide in disbelief as he couldn’t believe Ned had just said that. Before Peter could even try to save himself, not wanting to scare you away before he had even uttered a real sentence to you, the teacher walked in, dropping his bag at his desk up front, while the door shut, forcing all further conversation to cease. As he turned to face forward in his seat, he shut his eyes in embarrassment, wanting to disappear, not feeling your gaze lingering on him.

It was 7th period and Peter still couldn’t shake the girl and their interaction, or lack-there-of, from earlier. He had seen her again at lunch, sitting off to the side by herself, nose in a book as she picked at the food in front of her. His feet began to carry him towards her, but then his brain caught up and instead steered him toward his usual table with Ned and MJ, where he settled on just admiring you from a distance, as Ned’s words fell on deaf ears.

“Stare any harder and she’s gonna combust.” MJ had bluntly stated, before turning back to her own book.

“I’m not staring!” Peter quickly snapped, tearing his gaze away from you, trying to rid the blush dusting his cheeks.

“Peter,” Ned began, “you’re clearly staring. And have been since you sat down. You pretty much haven’t been listening to what I’ve been saying.”

“What? Yes I have.”

“You kept nodding at random times and half the time it didn’t make sense.”

At that, Peter turned his gaze downwards to the table, but it wasn’t long before his eyes found themselves back on you.

“Look,” Ned said, turning to fully face his best friend, “just go and talk to her. You’re y’know,” he gave his friend a knowing look that said you’re Spider-Man without him having to say it out loud, “there’s nothing you can’t do!”

“This is different, Ned,” Peter shook his head, “I can’t just…go up and talk to her! She’s way out of my league. I mean, look at her…and she’s wicked smart, did you hear her answer all the questions during chem? Maybe we should get her to join the decathlon team.”

“Whatever, man. I think you should just talk to her. I’ve been talking to Betty recently, and I think that’s going well. So I don’t know. You never know until you try.”

Peter had been contemplating Ned’s words since and even now, as he entered the classroom to sit through English, he couldn’t help but feel like Ned was right. As his feet dragged him to his usual seat, he noticed a familiar figure already settled in at his usual desk, writing in a notebook.

“Hey, uh,” Peter mumbled, pulling the earbuds out of his ears, his voice causing the girl to look up at him, “we had chemistry together, earlier, today…I’m Peter.”

You smiled, flicking the pen back and forth in your hand, as you stared at the boy in front of you.

“Yeah, I remember. Your friend Ned told me.”

Peter shut his eyes briefly, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“Right, uh. I just. I wanted to apologize for earlier. I know it must’ve been a bit…weird. I didn’t mean to weird you out.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Talking to people isn’t really my thing either.”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes widened slightly, “You seemed so at ease talking to Ned earlier.”

“Yeah, well,” you breathed out, placing the pen down on your notebook before continuing, “trick of the trade, I guess. Sometimes faking confidence enacts actual confidence. Um, how about we just start over? I’m Y/N.” You finished, sticking your hand out, hoping the boy would return the gesture. He smiled, nerves floating away.

“Peter, it’s really nice to meet you.” He concluded, a smile gracing his face as he reached out to shake your hand. Upon letting go, he took a seat at the desk next you and you both carried on a conversation until class started. He was really glad you had taken his seat.

Since then, you and Peter had been inseparable. You were closer than two peas in a pod. Sometimes, he felt like he didn’t know how to function without you. Anything there was to know about each other, you both knew – save for the secret of Peter’s alter ego. Peter thought maybe he fell in love with you over the course of many study sessions.

It was nearing 7 PM when the weight of your head on Peter’s shoulder broke his focus.

“I can’t do this anymore. My brain is an actual puddle now.” You huffed, eyes still attached to the study guide in your lap. It was a Wednesday night and Peter and you were sat on his bed, while helping each other study for the chemistry test the next day; the reality of the situation was that you’d both do fine by yourself, you just loved any excuse to spend time with the other.

“C’mon, Y/N, we’re practically almost done, you just gotta power through it.” Though his actions contradicted his words, as he rested his head on top of yours. He felt the groan you let out vibrate through his body, as you threw your work to the side and placed your legs over Peter’s, effectively covering his work, and wrapping your arms around his body.

“This is stupid. I’m dropping out of high school.”

Peter laughed, his right arm beginning to rub your back gently.

“You’re too brilliant to drop out. Besides, without you there, who’s going to give me a run for my money?”

“Excuse me, Parker, I think it’s the other way around. I think we all know I definitely rank above you in our class.”

“Pretty bold of a wannabe high school dropout to assume that.”

You shoved him lightly, causing another laugh of his to fill the air, as you resumed your former sitting position by him, smiling as you spoke.

“Yeah, well, you’ll be happy to know that you got number seven wrong. So I wouldn’t be so cocky.”

“No I didn-,” but Peter’s words cut off as he focused on his paper, a blush rising to his cheeks, “Yeah, well. It’s only cuz you distracted me. I would’ve caught it.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure,” You replied sarcastically, your eyes lighting up just that bit more – something only Peter could draw out of you – as you gave him a quizzical look, “What would you ever do without me?”

Peter paused, lips slightly parted, as he gazed into your eyes; it was always like being home, even if he was far from it. He shook his head slowly, letting the words softly fall from his chapped lips.

“I don’t know…” A silence fell between you both, as you took comfort in the presence of the other, before Peter cleared his throat, “Okay, how about, we finish one more page and then I’ll let you raid my fridge for whatever you want and we’ll finish The Theory of Everything?”

“That, Peter Parker,” you lightly bopped his nose with your yellow highlighter, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “is the best thing you’ve said to me all week. So! I was working through number eleven, and it’s not too bad…”

Peter’s eyes studied your profile, as your words flitted in one ear and out the other, the increased thump, thump, thump, of his heart pre-occupying his mind.

Or maybe it was during one of your countless movie nights.

Your legs were thrown over Peter’s lap, his arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him, as your head rested on his shoulders, and your arms were lazily strewn across his stomach.

“I like cuddling with you, you’re warm and make me feel safe.”

Peter’s heartrate rose whenever he’d recall your words and he’d create any excuse to cuddle with you since, knowing you wouldn’t say no. Currently, your body was shaking slightly, and he was rubbing your back lightly, trying to ease your cries.

“Y/N, we’ve seen this movie over a hundred times. You already know what’s going to happen.”

It was your weekly movie night, and you had somehow convinced Peter to watch The Theory of Everything once again, seeing as it was your favorite movie. Of course, Peter enjoyed it too, but after watching it as many times as you both had, he started to grow tired of it. But as long as you were happy, he was content.

“I know, but I just. How can you not cry? Like, sorry you’re a heartless monster.” You sobbed a little more. Peter’s laugh vibrated through his chest and you could feel it, along with how your heartbeats increased.

“I’m not heartless, Y/N. I cried the first time you made me watch it. I just know what’s happening now.”

“Well maybe the anticipation just makes it sadder, Peter. I don’t know! Let me be an ugly, crying mess in peace.”

“Hey,” Peter shrugged his shoulder lightly, prompting you to look up at him. He wiped some of your tears away with his hand not wrapped around you, and then placed it against your forearm, holding you a little tighter, “You’re not an ugly, crying mess. I’m just messing with you. I was pretty close to tears too. Also…I think you look really pretty when you cry.”

You smiled, eyes turning back towards the screen, settling in for the rest of the movie.

“Thanks, Pete. I don’t know if I necessarily agree with that statement, but I’m really lucky to have you.”

Peter rested his head on top of yours, eyes settled on the film, but his mind focused on you.

“I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Other times, Peter thought maybe it was Junior Prom when he had really taken the plunge and his love finally crossed from friendly to something more.

“Ow! Y/N you’re supposed to be pining it to my jacket, not impaling me viciously.”

“Well maybe if you stopped fidgeting, I’d be able to pin it to your jacket!”

“I’m only fidgeting cuz you stabbed me with the pin!”

From the side, you heard Ned’s laugh and you turned in time to see him lowering Peter’s phone.

“I don’t know why you guys haven’t gotten together already. You already bicker like an old married couple.”

At his words, you suddenly felt the familiar heat creep up your cheeks, which seemed to be a common occurrence when Peter was around, and hoped that your makeup helped to conceal it. Peter on the other hand was looking at Ned in disbelief – no matter how many times he told Ned to cool it with the dating comments when they hung out, he never seemed to get the message to stick.

“I, uh…I don’t kno-I mean-I-did you get the photo Ned?” Peter finally worked out, as he non-verbally gave his other best friend a look, pleading with him to move on. Luckily, MJ could take a hint.

“Yeah, he got it. And about a thousand other photos. I swear, he’s your two’s biggest fan. But yes, you’re typical, high school prom photo has been taken.”

You laughed at MJ’s words, having grown fond of her sarcasm over the past year, and grabbed the phone out of Ned’s hands. As you scrolled you leaned into Peter, letting him see Ned’s handy work.

“These are cute! I really like this one!”

You had stopped on a candid moment Ned had captured of the two of you laughing, as you struggled to pin the boutonniere to his suit jacket. As you continued swiping through the copious amounts of photos – MJ was not joking around – Peter’s eyes remained focused on you. He was convinced that every single photo of you could be filed away in the dictionary under “beautiful” and all its synonyms. The way your face lit up as you laughed, and your eyes slightly crinkled at the corners, and you threw your whole body into your happiness – he’d never get tired of looking at you.

“Y’know, I think Ned might actually be better at this photography thing than you, Pete.” You concluded, smiling up at him as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I admit, they’re good photos. But let’s remember whose photos are in the Daily Bugle.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly shoving Peter and handing his phone back to him.

“We get it, you took some photos of Spider-Man and you’re buddy-buddy with him. Way to constantly flex on the rest of us. Also, as a not-so-subtle, but subtle reminder, I’m still waiting to meet him.”

Peter’s mind began to short-circuit at the mention of his alter ego, as it always did when it was brought up around you – a firm reminder that he hadn’t let you in on his secret yet: and he didn’t intend to anytime soon. In an effort to change the subject, he threw the first idea he had out.

“Hey, it’s getting late, we should probably start heading to the gym.” “But it’s only 7:30, the doors only opened thirty minutes ago?” Ned began, thinking aloud.

“Ned! We should,” Peter not so subtly looked over at you, “head over to the gym.”

Ned’s eyes widened as his mouth formed an “o.” Meanwhile you rolled your eyes and stepped forward, looping your arm through MJ’s.

“You both are dorks. MJ’s my date now, sorry Peter.”

And with that you began walking away, speaking quietly with MJ. Ned stood beside Peter now, as they watched the two girls putting space between them.

“You’ve got it so bad for Y/N.” Ned bluntly stated.

“Do not. We’re best friends. I care for her the way I care for all of you.”

“No, you don’t. And if you did, I’d be a little worried. I think you should just tell her. I’ve been saying the same thing since the first day you malfunctioned when you saw her.”

The tips of Peter’s ears began to burn.

“I did not malfunction.” Peter mumbled.

“Right, and-”

“Hey losers!” MJ’s voice cut Ned off, “are you coming or not?”

“Peter, I know I said MJ was my date now, but she just made fun of me. I miss you. Come back to me.”

Pete shook his head slowly, as he and Ned began the short trek towards their two best friends, him shouting a response.

“Always will, Y/N.”

Hell, maybe it was that one week without you that truly opened his eyes to what he had in front of him.

It was the seventh day of what Peter deemed radio silence between you two, and he was on the brink of insanity. He had long since grown tired of the tense and brief greetings, the few, to non-existent texts, the absence of heart fluttering laughs and smiles from you, sarcastic exchanges, cuddles, and all-around – the presence of you in his life. Truthfully, anyone could tell that he had been off since the beginning of the week, when you had first told Peter you needed space, while breaking down in front of him. It broke his heart to see you cry and it turned it into dust knowing he was the cause.

May Parker hated seeing her nephew distraught, and now as he stood in front of your door, he could only hope that all the advice that May had been giving him would pay off. With any luck, by the end of this, he’d have his best friend back. Hesitantly, he lifted his fist, and thought through every scenario, almost chickening out, before his fist finally landed on the oak-door; the thud resonating through the space around him.

It only took you thirty seconds to open the door, but Peter swore it felt like an hour, as his nerves went haywire. The sight of you in front of him, looking tired and worn down, but still so beautiful, dressed in a loose pair of joggers and his Midtown pullover was enough for his brain to combust.

“Hey…Y/N…” Peter started softly, as you had just been staring at him after having opened the door. You had yet to invite him in, hand still on the doorknob, as you kept the door close to you; only opening it wide-enough for you to stand in the doorway.

“Peter.”

The tension between you both had never been so thick, Peter was lost.

“I um…I came to apologize.”

“Okay…”

You were just as lost as him.

“I know…I know I messed up. I should’ve been there for you. It was a big night for you. I know that. You worked hard for that award. I know you did. And I’ve always known how brilliant you were, but I should’ve been there cheering you on, louder than anyone in that audience. I’m proud of you. You know that. I just…I let the Stark Internship take me away and I know I could’ve at least sent you a text and that’s my fault and I can’t promise I won’t mess up again, but please,” his voice cracked, as a tear slipped down his face, “please forgive me. I’ll do better. I will. I’m not perfect, but I love you so much. You’re my best friend. I can’t do this – life – without you. You make me better…”

He trailed off, once again unsure of where to go next. A silence fell between you both, as Peter’s fingers began to twist the fabric of his faded, blue sweater sleeve between his fingers, his nerves raising as he waited for your response. You simply stood in front of him, hand still on the door knob, as you peered into his eyes. Your bottom lip was stuck between your teeth and before Peter could stop your assault on the skin, he felt arms being wrapped around his neck, and his feet stumbling back a few paces.

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

Peter froze for a moment, your arms tightening around him, as he soaked in the feeling of having you back in his arms. Without much further thought, he felt his eyes shutting and his arms wrapping around your waist, feeling the weight in his chest lighten for the first time in a week.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have shut you out, because you know I support you in everything you do. I know that the Stark Internship is a huge commitment and I should’ve just talked it out and-”

“Hey, hey, no,” Peter pulled away from you, just far enough to peer into your eyes, “you didn’t overreact. I mean, I do wish we could’ve just talked it through, a week without you was too long for me, but I was being an uncaring friend. There’s no way around the truth. I should’ve made more of an effort. It was important to you, so it should’ve been equally as important to me. You’re my best friend and I love you. You know that. I just. I don’t always know how to balance and handle things the best.”

“I love you too, Pete,” you pulled him close to you again and whispered into the crook of his neck, “God, I never want to go that long without you again.”

“You won’t have too. Not if I have a say in it.”

All these thoughts sped through Peter’s mind the day he found himself sitting on his couch, across from you, as you told him the three words he never thought he would hear.

“I’m moving, Peter.”

The three words sent ice through his bloodstream, the gears in his brain jammed, and his body shutdown.

“Pete? Did you hear me?” Your hand on top of his brought him back, the touch warming him, even though he felt anything but comfort.

“You’re what? Why?”

“My Dad got another job offer. It requires us to move again.”

“Okay, well, so what? Now you’re an extra subway stop away, that’s not so bad. I can handle that. We can handle that. I mean, we’re best friends there’s nothing we can’t handle. Right?” Peter was frantic. Whether he fully understood it or not, he had feelings for you, and they went deeper than you both knew.

“Pete,” your voice cracked, and your throat began to hurt as you struggled not to cry, “It’s all the way out in California. But it’s still in the country, y’know! We can…we can Skype and FaceTime and write letters – and I bet I can get my parents to let me come visit! I mean, Queens is my home. You’re my home, Peter. You’re my best friend.”

Peter felt his heart flutter at your words, and as tears slid down his face, he lifted his arms so he could cup your face and wipe away your tears.

“Yeah,” he forced out through a broken laugh, your hands now grasping his as your thumbs ran across the expanse of his skin, “you’re my best friend too. Nothing’s gonna change that. So we don’t get to see each other as often. It sucks, but we’ll get through it. Cuz we’re us. And we can get through anything. I mean, if we could get through the disaster that was fifth period Junior Year, I think we can get through just about anything.”

You laughed, and even though you had a little bit of snot running out of your nose and tears spilled endlessly, he swore your beauty battled that of the moon’s, sun’s, and every other beautiful creation the world presented to him.

Pulling away from his grip, you brought your sleeve up to your face and tried to rid any sign of your breakdown. And before he could reach out to make sure you were okay, you launched yourself into his arms, his own flying up and stilling before squeezing you as tight as he could. Your breath tickled his neck as you spoke quietly.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

He rubbed your back and pulled you in just that little bit closer, eyes closing as he let his face rest in the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna be lost without you too.”

Regardless of the moment he fell for you, he knew that what he felt was true. More than anything, he regretted never acting on those feelings. So as he stood in front of the security checkpoint at JFK, he pulled you in with a choked sob of I’ll miss you for the last time, for who knew how long. His nose was buried in your hair, his arms encased around your body, being sure to memorize this moment in its entirety: from the way you smelled, to the outfit you wore, to the weight of your arms around him, and even your tears staining his neck and shirt. Maybe now wasn’t your time, and while he was slightly irked at the universe for that, he was hopeful for the future, because that’s what love gives you: hope.

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scuttleboat · 6 years

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510 reactions

INDRA IS THE BEST OMG lol I love her so much. If she had a morning alarm app it would be "Rise and face the day. You will die, but proudly, and that is good." *beep*

Gaia was an fun surprise this episode and I loved pretty much every scene she had with Indra. The fight was great.

I loved the assassination attempt and I loved Octavia's reaction to it? That was the one really unpredictable moment in the episode for me and I thought the suspense > to > diffusion of tension by throwing back the spear was just... wonderful. In an episode with some great dialogue and some painfully creaky dialogue, that little screenwriting moment was a delight. It was the most #powermove thing that Bloodreina could do in that moment and that speaks in interesting ways to how she's become so sensitive to politics and drama while becoming so desensitized to the people around her.

The Blake stuff was all the drama I could ever want and I think Bob and Marie showed off their wonderful screen chemistry. But I admit I'm a little unsure what this means for Bellamy's character? This feels like it should have been a turning point for him. His insistence not to fight felt genuine up to the moment, and then he did fight, like I was expecting. I guess I wanted more out of that moment? Like, that should feel like a huge thing--his choice to survive over waiting for Octavia to save him--but somehow, it didn't? Nor did it feel like a switch that really indicates him in person conflict over his near- pacifism stuff. I think it was the fact that Monty arrived and saved the day, there preventing Bellamy from actually having to hurt someone he considers an ally in order to survive. So he skates by on being Soft Bellamy still, in the episode where I was hoping he'd be a little bit more of Rough Bellamy. I've been thinking that he has a building up of internal conflict this season wrt "can I be the new me or the old me?" and I was hoping we'd see that reach a major point this episode. Now I'm not quite sure if that's what they're doing with him. I'll have to wait to see. If Bellamy's major conflict really is just about his sibling and his childhood this season, that would feel like a missed opportunity. I want some meaty self-examination!

The other sibling got a solid WHOLE EPISODE of self-examination, lol. Marie was splendid. It veered between powerful and heavily melodramatic. The whole mirror thing was WAY over the top cliche. Come on, t100. Come on, HIC. You can be a little better than that! And "You can't save someone who's already dead." Really? Okay then. I guess it's not t100 if there aren't at least two lines per episode that make me roll my eyes. Even the good episodes! Which this was, to be fair. For about 90% of it I was quite entertained, although I think it's too dark to have a fun rewatch factor. Snarkiness aside though, I did enjoy seeing the dark workings of the soul of a female character being given such deliberation on screen. Octavia Blake genuinely is a unique character in television, and is allowed to go places female characters rarely are. I feel like my read on Octavia this season has been dead on correct: to her, Bloodreina = Wonkru and Wonkru = Bloodreina. Octavia doesn't see herself as a person anymore, just as the figurehead of this system. She is also terrified of everything and Bloodreina is her only way of facing world she created so that her people could survive. She can't give up being Bloodreina, therefore she can't give Wonkru to someone else because if Wonkru and Bloodreina can exist separately, that flies in the face of "all of me for all of us", which is the only thing that kept her and everyone else sane (mostly) in the bunker. If that's structure falls apart or if Octavia loses it, then all she has is the memories of the terrible things she did. And even if she did it to save them all, to lead them to the next day and the next, without Wonkru she would have to bear those memories alone, and she cannot.

Hmm what else?

The flashbacks to their childhood on the Ark was very moving. I liked getting more details of their life. I liked the balance between the weight & pain Bellamy endured to protect Octavia and the weight & terror Octavia endured being raised as the source of fear for her family. It was clear that the trauma of the Ark was terrible for them both, infecting even happy the memories.

Monty telling Octavia no was a classic Monty moment. I liked his scene a lot, but tbh I was hoping for something a little more creative or complex in how they used him? One of the drawbacks of this episode's slower, more character-based tone is that it seemed fairly predictable what was going to happen from scene to scene. That's why I like the moment when she threw back the spear, because I genuinely didn't know how that scene was going to go. Monty saving the day with flowers though was not exactly shocking when it came around. I feel like a reaction video to this episode will just be a consecutive sequence of "hmmm" and "HMMMM" and "ooh nice" and "okay then if you must", none of it rising above conversational tone.

I liked the bunker departure scene because we got to see everyone in the open sunlight. That was nice. Octavia's blood makeup was so ~artistic walking out of that bunker, you know she had to apply it and wash it and re-apply it 2 times at least. I've been there, girl.

The farm burning means the bunker society idea is torched and I'm sighing a little over that. Do we REALLY need to write out EVERY possible solution with salt-the-earth finality? Where is this series gonna end, with 11 people on a life raft floating out to sea? If there is a sea, still. This show is so bonkers.

The stuff with the chip is still firmly in my zone of "but really DO WE HAVE TO BE DOING THIS?" but it could have been worse. I was confused at one moment when Madi said "I just put it back in." Maybe I need to re-watch it, but I honestly don't understand that line. Was that the A.I. talking through Madi, claiming her as a host? Or was that Madi saying she'd taken it out and in again?

The Lexa stuff was just.. can we not. Give the child. Memories of her mom's dead lover. That's so skeevy on so many levels, and that's skeevy BEFORE even getting into the 'lover' part of Clarke's past with Lexa.

So... Becca was burned alive as a witch by Cadogan? Or whoever. That seems really weird to me. Like, super out of place for the show. I don't understand how that fits into t100 at all, since the people burning her were like, people from future-modern New England and shit. Even if I started living in a Mad Max Society tomorrow, I don't think 4 years of apocalypse would be enough to convert me to the idea that "Yeah, you know what humanity's real problem is? SPACE WITCHERY. Let's just BURN HER." How does that even come up? I totally get it if they blamed her for killing the world, and if the mob executed her for it. I also get it if they distrust the A.I. she brought down. But come on, they'd just shoot her! That's what you do with rich people when the end comes and everybody's backs are against the wall. They wouldn't waste firewood for a witch burning; that's ridiculous.

I have a feeling like they're gonna leave the chip in Madi. I hope not. My best case scenario for this unnecessary plot they forced us into is that by experiencing the memories, Madi retrieves some vital piece of new information that will help save everyone. Maybe she finds out what is going on with the other Elegius mission, since Becca worked on that stuff. Hopefully then Madi can take it out? But honestly, the fact that it seems like the show is going to decide "well we'll leave it in if she says she wants it" is really uncomfortable for me. If she couldn't consent to getting it last episode, she can't consent to keeping it this episode. The same problems with the situation exist regardless of whether Madi thinks she's getting something valuable out of it, or if it makes her feel powerful in a world where she is otherwise powerless. Letting a child use dangerous mind altering substances to help them feel more powerful and safe is NOT the same thing as actually keeping that child safe or empowered. It's the opposite of that. Of course, Clarke can't really do much about that right now without re-traumatizing Madi on top for the trauma she's already experiencing. But the longer they leave it in, the harder it will be to remove without psychological damage if Madi's developing brain becomes dependant on it. Because, you know, SHE'S ELEVEN. Maybe twelve? But her brain is literally growing, as children's brains do, and right this second it's growing with a cyber-parasite shaping it. That seems profoundly wrong and gross to me. ...Ideally they give it to Gaia or Indra. Just let them have it.

Oh that's a bit of a down note to end on? I am not sure where this takes us, but I think the episode was good. I'm not sure it was actually the episode they needed it to be though. It seemed to accomplish several things, but I'm not sure the particular things that it accomplished were the best choices. Vinson finally eating people was lulzy. I just wish the stuff that Abby was doing in that scene wasn't filmed and directed in such an amateur looking way. But finally, SOME CANNIBALISM! Now we wait til next week to see what else comes out.

#bellamy blake #octavia blake #clarke griffin #madi griffin #indra kom trikru #wonkru #bloodreina #the 100 liveblog #the 100 5x10 #the 100

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obsessive-fics · 6 years

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you’re gonna be my wound-chapter seven

Title: Dancing on My Own

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you as always to @yourfriendlyblogstalker for being a great beta

[Read on Ao3]

[Previous Chapter]

[Masterlist]

“Okay, I’ve let this go on long enough. I think it’s time to stage a full blown intervention,” Dan said laughing. They were at Wednesday rehearsal, taking their five minute break after running the choreography to “Bitch of Living,” and he and Phil were walking towards their usual seats at the back of the auditorium.

“What?” Phil asked, as they took their seats in the audience.

“Your dancing. It’s awful. You might possibly be the worst dancer I’ve ever met,” Dan continued, reaching down to pick up his water bottle.

“You’re not exactly a prima ballerina yourself,” Phil replied petulantly, crossing his arms, which just caused Dan to laugh harder.

“Look, I’m trying to save you from breaking your legs. Which you almost do every single time we run ‘Bitch of Living,’” Dan pointed out, shrugging.

“I hate it when you’re right, you know that?” Phil sighed, picking up his water bottle.

“I do. Hence it being my favorite past time,” Dan replied, and Phil laughed and shoved him. “Come over to mine, we’ll move the furniture out of the way, and I’ll help you not fall off your chair.”

“Okay. Okay, sure,” Phil agreed after a minute.

“Oh, Louise look! Could this be the moment?” PJ asked as he and Louise walked over to sit next to them.

“No way, they’re sitting too far apart,” Louise replied in a stage whisper.

“What are you two talking about?” Dan asked, looking up at them. Whatever it was couldn’t be good.

“We’re placing bets on when you’ll declare your undying love for each other,” Louise told him grinning, and he really did have the worst best friend ever. He told her as much, but Louise just laughed.

“One day you’ll thank us. So what were you actually talking about?”

“Phil’s terrible dancing,” Dan replied laughing.

“Hey! It’s not that bad,” Phil protested immediately, causing the rest of them to burst out in a fit of laughter.

“It’s pretty bad. Have you ever landed correctly in your chair during ‘Bitch of Living’?”

“Remember that time he landed on the stage?” Louise aksed.

“Remember that time we were doing the roll off the chairs and he almost rolled offstage?” PJ added. That one had been pretty spectacular. Every single person in the number broke character to make sure he hadn’t broken anything.

“I hate all of you,” Phil muttered, glaring at them.

“It’s okay, that’s why we’re going to work on it,” Dan reassured him, and very decidedly ignored the look he could feel Louise giving him.

“I guess,” Phil relented. He still sounded less than pleased, but Dan was gonna take it as a win.

“It’ll be fun- and I won’t record you when you fall over,” he teased gently in an attempt to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, as some of the tension left Phil’s shoulders.

“Shut up,” Phil said, laughing and shoving him just as Ms.Jay called them back on stage to run the song with the lyrics this time.

“This is so unfair. You basically get to sit down the entire number,” Phil groaned later as they moved the couch against the wall and out of the way.

“I don’t sit down the entire number. Besides, do you know how hard it is to sit still during that song?” Dan asked, walking over to the kitchen to grab chairs.

“I would rather sit still than jump around on a chair. I almost died earlier,” Phil replied, and they both couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“It’s gonna be fine. I’ll be your human safety net,” Dan announced placing a chair next to him.

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I will almost definitely fall on you at one point,” Phil said, looking absolutely terrified. Dan racked his brain for something comforting to say to make him feel better, but comforting people wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Instead, he just shrugged.

“Just don’t break the chair- I do not want to explain that one to Louise.”

Phil gave him a look, and then sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay. Do you want to start with the places you have the most trouble?”

“I don’t even know where we’d start. Let’s just do the entire thing without music, and you stop me where I need help,” Phil suggested, and it was actually a pretty brilliant idea, so Dan nodded.

“You want to sing so we know where we are in the song?” he asked as Phil sat down to get started.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Phil agreed, and Dan counted him in so he knew when to start. It was all going relatively well, the two of them singing the lyrics, as Phil did the choreography in his chair until they got to the first chorus.

It’s the bitch of living

With nothing but your hand

Phil was meant to stand up in his chair and spin around on the first line, jumping down and stomping to center stage on the second, but he spun right off the chair. Without really thinking about it, Dan ran forward and caught him before he could completely wipe out.

“Thanks,” Phil breathed, looking up at him, the shock evident on his face. Phil's eyes were even more vibrant up close, flecks of green and gold disrupting the ocean of blue they usually were. Dan was aware on some level that he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. What was happening right now? Something started to vibrate between them, snapping him out of it immediately.

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time, and laughed.

“My phone,” Phil explained as they detangled themselves and checked it.

“It’s Dodie, she wants to see if we can run our scene. Do you mind if she comes over?” he asked, even though he was already typing a reply.

“We were kind of working on something,” Dan pointed out, suddenly really annoyed. Here he was, taking time out of his day to help Phil where he so desperately needed it, and Phil was blowing him off without even a thank you. Well, he wasn’t actually blowing him off, it just… felt like it for some reason.

“I can tell her no if you need me to, Dan,” Phil replied, giving him a confused look, and Dan realized how ridiculous he was being. He just… Didn’t like having his plans altered, that was all. Dodie was a perfectly nice person, and her and Phil’s scene was one of the most important emotional beats in the whole show. Of course she could come over.

“She can come over. But you’re not getting out of the dancing part of this,” Dan said finally when he realized he’d just been standing there frowning at the wall.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Hope you’re prepared to catch me. A lot,” Phil replied, texting Dodie back, and sitting down in the chair again. They managed to run the entire song a few times, and besides Phil managing to roll backwards into his chair instead of off it, it actually went pretty well.

“That was really good!” Dan said after they finished the last run through, “you’ve just gotta stop overthinking it.”

“I know, I know. Who would’ve thought worrying about falling was what was causing me to fall?” Phil asked, just as they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Dan told him, and went to go let Dodie in.

“Hey Dan! Thanks for letting us rehearse here,” Dodie said brightly, waving at him.

“Uh… Sure,” Dan answered stepping aside and closing the door behind him. “Phil’s in the living room.”

“Do you think Dan was being weird earlier?” Phil asked as he walked Dodie back to her flat after they’d finished rehearsing.

“He was kind of pouty,” Dodie replied, shrugging.

Rehearsal had been going really well. Dodie was hugely dedicated, and already offbook, so for the most part Phil had been following her lead. They had run the majority of the scene, up until Ilse’s exit before Moritz's monologue, and were about to run the song, when Phil figured they should get a third opinion on how it was going.

“Dan, how was that?” he’d asked, looking over to where Dan had his head buried in his laptop.

“Fine,” Dan muttered, without looking up.

“Dan,” Phil said again, crossing his arms. Dan was always going on about how important this was, giving him advice he didn’t ask for, and now that he actually wanted Dan’s input on something, he was being completely indifferent.

“Fine. Just run it again, I wasn’t watching,” Dan replied, looking up. Phil opened his mouth to argue, to point out that he should’ve been watching in the first place, but Dodie broke in before he could.

“We could always use more practice,” she said gently, and he could tell she was trying to avoid a fight, so he relented.

“Fine. Are you watching this time?” Phil asked, turning to Dan, who made a big show of closing his laptop.

“You have my undivided attention,” he said, and the two of them glared at each other until Dodie spoke up, reminding them of her presence.

“Phil, your line is first.”

“Right, sorry,” Phil said, and then opened up his script. He couldn’t worry about Dan and his passive aggressiveness right now. He had to become Moritz, and Moritz had way bigger things to worry about than brown eyed boys that caught you in their arms one minute, and were cold and distant the next. Not that he cared. At all.

“Good night, Ilse,” he recited, sounding as dejected as he could.

“Good night?” Dodie as Ilse asked, looking up at him, equal parts hurt and confused.

“Virgil, the equations… Remember?” he replied, looking away, barely believing what he was saying himself.

“Just for an hour,” Dodie pleaded, placing her hands on his chest.

“I can’t,” he said, placing his hands over hers.

“Well, walk me at least,” Dodie replied lightly, smiling up at him.

“Honestly, I wish I could,” he said sadly, gently moving her hands back to her sides. Dodie let the smile drop from her face, replacing it with a glare.

“You know, by the time you finally wake up, I’ll be lying on some trash heap.”

“How was it that time?” Phil asked, turning to Dan.

“It was good. You guys have good chemistry,” Dan told them, but he didn’t sound happy about it. Weren’t Moritz and Ilse supposed to have chemistry? Ultimately making his suicide all the more tragic? He’d have to read over the scene again.

“Thanks!” Dodie said, completely missing the change in Dan’s tone, and when had Phil started noticing the changes in Dan’s tone? He shook himself of the thought.

“You must be tired. I think we’re good for today, right, Dodie?” Phil asked, turning to her, and she nodded.

“I think Ms.Jay’s really going to love what we did with this scene. Good night, Dan,” she said, picking up her bag and putting the script inside.

“Good night, guys.”

Phil waited until Dodie was at the door, and then turned to Dan.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not..?” he trailed off, not wanting to ask the question out right.

“No, Phil, I’m not having an episode. Jesus, I can’t believe you’d even ask me that,” Dan replied, sounding annoyed, and that had definitely been the wrong question to ask.

“I’m sorry, I just- I know that scene is a lot, and if it was to much for you-”

“I wouldn’t be doing the show if I couldn’t handle it,” Dan huffed cutting him off, and Phil nodded. Of course he wouldn’t. Dan knew his limits, he didn’t need Phil checking in on him.

“Right. Well, good night, Dan.”

“Good night, Phil.”

And then he and Dodie had left, laughing and singing their duet together, but a part of Phil’s mind couldn’t help but wander to Dan. He hoped he was okay.

“Earth to Phil,” Dodie called from next to him, waving a hand in his face.

“Sorry, I’m a little distracted,” he told her.

“It’s all good. This is my flat though- see you tomorrow?” Dodie replied, and he suddenly felt very bad he hadn’t been a more present… walking companion?

“I’m sure Dan’ll be okay. If you’re that worried, just text him. Good night, Phil,” Dodie said, patting his arm good naturedly, and walking up to her door.

“Good night,” he called back, and then headed in the direction of his own flat. It had been a long and confusing day, and the only thing he could really think to do to feel better was make a cup of hot chocolate and marathon Buffy. And maybe call his mum. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

[Next Chapter]

#phanfiction #Phanfic #phan au #phanfic au

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nowthenlove-blog · 6 years

Text

No. 5: Beers, Beets and Baby Van McCann

summary: Eighteen year old Van meets stubborn y/n in a bar and his kindness breaks through to you just a little. How come you only ever bump into him with a drink in hand?

a/n: Yes, yes that is an office reference. word count: 2000 words

My Masterlist is here!

.....

You called every single person you could think of and turns out, not many people want to get heavy drunk on a Tuesday night. Fair enough, most of your friends had 9 - 5's and the ones that didn't were busy. That wasn't going to stop you though, you had decided you were getting a drink, and you were getting that drink.

You were only recently eighteen, meaning you no longer had to linger at a table whilst your friends bought you drinks. Finally, you could get them yourself. Tonight you chose beer. It felt weird to drink cocktails by yourself, cocktails are drink with friends in your mind. Maybe that was just from your past experiences. Either way, beer was a comfortable choice.

'Drinking alone love?'

You turned around expecting some creepy middle aged man who had spotted you by yourself and no doubt thought that if he bought you a couple drinks he could cop a feel. You turned around ready to tell him where to shove it. You were wrong.

It was a man, but barely, he looked a similar age to you, but more importantly he looked sweet. He had a beer in hand and was looking at you eagerly in response.

'Er, yeah. You're welcome to join if you want?' You weren't worried about inviting him to sit down, the boy looked less creepy and more lost puppy. He took the stool next to you placing his drink down onto the bar spilling a little.

'Oh shit,' he was about to wipe the mess up with his sleeve but you stopped him, instead handing him a napkin from the side. 'Thanks love, bit clumsy sometimes.' His hair was fluffy and his clothes were all black, ripped jeans clung to his skinny legs and a shiny necklace drew your attention. He noticed you looking at it.

'Like it? It was a gift for my 18th birthday, never take it off. I'm Van by the way.' The way he smiled at you reinforced your feelings of comfort around him.

'Y/n, it was a good present idea, something you'll have forever you know, my mum did that. Not a necklace, but still.'

'What did she get you?'

'A guitar, I already had one, but this ones so much better.'

'You play? No way! I'm in a band, we're not big yet but we're gonna get there soon. I can just feel it.'

This was how the night went on, more and more drinks were consumed, you even managed to convince Van to do a couple shots with you. You could feel the alcohol starting to hit you, Van said he felt it too, but he did not slow down.

You didn't leave until not long after one, helping Van out into the night, making it only to the end of the street before Van wanted to stop.

'Need a cig, need a- need a cig.' His words were beginning to become altered by the alcohol, coming out a little jumbled. You had to help him light one and stole one to have yourself. As you stood and smoked, Van chatted, somewhere along the way asking for your number, 'In case he ever needed a drinking buddy'.

Y'know darlin', I think you- you're an angel, are you an angel? Think you fell from heaven.' The boy was sweet, you knew he had a soft thing for you, but it took for him to be almost drunk to even make an attempt at flirting.

'You're right Van, I am an angel, probably important for you to bear in mind that so was Lucifer though.'

He laughed. 'Lucifer, good cat name.'

'You know that's the name of the devil right?'

'Oh shit yeah, bad cat name.'

'Very bad. Here listen, where do you live? Is it walking distance or am I calling you a taxi?' You could tell your question made him think.

'Could walk it, need to take you back first, isn't that the right thing to do? Boy walks girl home?'

'No offence Van but I worry that you'd never make it home without me, find you tomorrow in some gutter.'

As you started to walk back you were beginning to wonder whether or not it had been smart to believe Van about his home being in walking distance. Drunk people are not always right. The fresh air was beginning to somewhat sober Van up, but he was still partially intoxicated.

He was holding your hand and swinging your arm, talking way too loud but nonetheless making you laugh. 'Think me and you are connected. Like tonight was fate or something'.

'Yeah? You believe in all that Van? Figures.' Van then burst into conversation about fate and soulmates and how there is no such thing as a coincidence. Lucky for you it wasn't too much further to Van's home, you walked him all the way to the door, the last thing you wanted was for him to trip and fall now. He stopped and looked at you, you were half expecting a speech from him about tonight and you. But he didn't, he stayed quiet looking at you for a second before kissing you softly. He pulled away after a second and went silent once again. It was your turn, you leaned up and kissed him again, lasting only a second more before pulling away.

'Night Y/n.' You watched him stumble inside and left him to it, turning back down the street and beginning to make your way home. .....

You had hoped that by the next day you would've had a text from Van, just one message, but nothing. You worried that he didn't want to see you again, or worse he couldn't remember last night at all. That he drank so much, he forgot you even existed.

You couldn't lie you were a little mad, you really enjoyed last night. It was fun to have him to drink with, and in all honesty you were hoping for it to happen again. You'd get it over though. The soft boy in the dirty bar would only be a vague memory in no time.

A little less than a week had past since that night and you found yourself thinking of him more and more, he however clearly hadn't thought of you once as your phone was still lacking his message. You needed to get him out of your head, at the very least get hung up on somebody else. Somebody it wasn't as painful to think about. Somebody a little less Van.

A party was what you needed. Surrounded by friends, alcohol and music was the best way to distract yourself; it was the only way you knew how to distract yourself. It didn't take much to convince people to come, Saturday night, your place, free alcohol. Your parties were beginning to get a bit of reputation so it was a rare event for someone to turn an invitation down.

Like usual your party had grown quickly out of hand, as people began to arrive, you realised you recognised less and less of these people. You didn't mind though, many of them came bearing food and drinks. You cared even less after a couple of drinks were in you, jello shots did the world of good.

You found yourself talking to two lads about who would win in a fight, a polar bear, or the statue of liberty. They were clearly stoned, but they were funny. They couldn't come to an agreement on who would win, them both arguing their cases pretty well.

'Hang on,' the tall one said, he reached behind you and tapped his friend, 'Hey Van what'd'you think?'

Van.

How many people in the world could be called that?

You turned around and there he was, the soft boy from the dirty bar. A lot less tipsy than the last time you saw him. His eyes were glazed, no doubt stoned, but he recognised you.

'Y/n.'

'Listen lads, I'll be back, Y/n, hi. Outside?' He was watching your every move and released a sigh of relief when you agreed.

It was much colder than the last time you were outside with him, the wind was biting at your skin.

'You didn't reply to any of my messages.' You couldn't believe him, who lies about texting someone?

'Maybe that's because you didn't text me, not bothered though mate, just shared a couple drinks together that's all.' He looked hurt by what you said, but also confused.

He showed you his phone, and all the messages he had sent to a number with your name. You showed him yours, and the lack of texts you has recieved. 'Shit,' you looked at his phone again, your number was wrong. Guess you really can't trust drunk people to be right.

'I thought there was chemistry y/n, I panicked a bit when you didn't text me back. I mean now I know and everything- but.' You cut him off, you could feel your buzz from the alcohol beginning to fade.

'Listen, no harm. I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a party going on inside and I had plans to get shitfaced. What'd'ya say? Care to join me?' This time you both got drunk, much more drunk, so much so, you had to step outside to get fresh air; prevent yourself from throwing up. Van was laughing at your current state. Hunched on the floor, clinging to the drainpipe, feeling as if someone was shaking the world like a snow-globe.

'I bet- I- I bet we'd get on sober y'know?' Van words took a moment to sink in, your brain was working much slower than normal.

'Think we would too, Fuck listen, it's no good Van. I need to sleep this off.' Van helped you up, himself struggling to say straight. Luckily for you as the party continued, your bedroom had remained empty. Van locked your room door once you were inside. Privacy. Your drunk logic was that it would be too much to share a bed with Van, but he needed some place to stay. You decided it would be okay if you slept at the other end, feet at the headboard. Then it wouldn't be as bad.

The sun woke you, glaring through the curtains. You felt rough. Painfully rough, but sober. Van was still by your side, fast asleep. You took this time to brush your teeth, getting a spare toothbrush out for Van, you knew he'd need one. You splashed water on your face, a half-hearted attempt to remove your makeup and ran a brush through your hair. You looked more alive already.

'Van', 'Van', 'VAN', you shook his shoulder forcefully, enough to eventually wake him up. You waved a green plastic toothbrush in front of him, which he took before covering his eyes from the light.

'I know, brutal right.' He laughed, 'Fancy getting breakfast somewhere?' .....

Van ordered a fry up and tea, yourself bacon pancakes and a hot chocolate. You were starving. Both of you were trying to piece together last nights events. You got most in the end, there was a couple black spots in the timeline but overall you did good.

'Van, are you sober?' he looked at you confused, but nodded all the same.

'Finger on nose.'

'What?'

'Finger on nose!' He followed your instruction and put his finger on his nose, you did the same, both of you not missing.

'I think we're both sober,' you said. It took a couple moments for Van to catch up.

'Yeah, yeah we are. Hello.'

'Hello,' you giggled, Van did too. 'Look at us, I guess we can get along sober.' 'I'm glad, maybe it's a sign. We should do this more. Sober, I mean. Well we can drink sometimes. I just don't want to forget any time spent with you. I like you too much.'

'I like you too.'

.....

Have a request? Send it in here! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is always appreciated!

#catb #catfish and the bottlemen #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #van mccann #van mccann fanfic #van mccann fanfiction #van mccann imagine

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dear-jesus-memoirs-blog · 6 years

Text

Good things for me

Wednesday June 6, 2018

Dear Jesus,

I know you have big things planned for me. You keep saying that you’ll establish me and my family, that you will make a legacy through me. That you will elevate my family through me. I’m just a vessel. Here I am Lord, SEND ME.

I’ve been struggling this week trying to make time for your word. I still pray to you fervently, but the time I’m spending in your word this week, is slipping. I’m still even catching up on my weekly sermons. Brenton’s off school now and my schedule is changing. I asked, Lord, please help me make time for your word, and you immediately answered ‘wake up earlier’. I groaned in my spirit at the thought but made quick to thank you in my heart and appreciate your attentiveness. How blessed I am that my god looks on me so closely that he answers my prayers immediately. How many years did I go praying and listening and not being receptive enough to hear? Or praying and being so far separated from your will that I couldn’t receive your words? How long was my head shrouded in darkness that I couldn’t identify you in a room full of nothing but you! A year and a half now I’ve been praying deep in my core for your sovereignty in me, to become whatever it is you planned and not for my whimsies to get in the way. You tell me to pray for something specific I pray. You tell me to fast, I fast. If you tell me to jump, spin circles, touch my nose, Yes Jesus, I obey! Now you say there are big things coming for me. I'm dreaming big and you tell me to dream BIGGER. I don’t even speak it to anyone else because I know the doubt that’ll follow and this battle is flinging enough arrows. I’m walking on faith like eggshells. Knowing I believe in your promises and doing my best to ignore my own short comings. My big dreams already seemed unattainable, but now I’m believing for things that aren’t possible without Yahweh. Aren’t possible without your saving grace and your Holy Spirit inside me. I’m giddy! My help comes from the Lord. My hope is in you, because my god is not a man that he should lie. So when you say big things are coming, I know it’s true! You are beautiful. I love you.

I asked myself why should you focus on a housewife and stay at home mom. And I heard gently in my spirit that you came to save the jews AND the gentiles. The men AND the women. The mighty and the small. I am humbled to think, what can I do? But we can do all things through you, and it’s not about what we’re doing at all. We’re just marching on to where you send us, because the war has already been won. I obey you.

I have this sense that you'll prepare a table for me before my enemies. The big things that you have for me are probably even part of the table you’re preparing. I ask, please use it as a confirmation to the glory of Yahweh, to your existence and faithfulness. I pray it be gentle and not boastful, that it sows seeds and waters ground to better your harvest. I pray that these enemies aren’t really enemies at all, but people who mistakenly stood on the wrong side. Where you go, miracles and wonders ensue. Let it be, Lord! I pray Jesus, that at the sight of my table, others realize they can have a table, too. Hallelujah! Glory to my god who rewards the righteous and makes straight our paths! My god my god MY GOD, how blessed I am. How blessed. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Glory to my god.

I’m thankful, Jesus. Tonight starts the Sabbath. I LOVE the Sabbath. I know it’s part of Yahweh and part of creation. I feel a part of something when I honor it, and I feel closer to our Father. Setting aside a whole day every week definitely took some getting used to, but after doing it for a couple of months I realized how brilliant Yahweh is. Now a year later and even the thought of breaking your Sabbath turns my stomach and breaks my heart. Honoring it honors Yahweh. But it goes so much deeper. The connection to the Holy Spirit is so much stronger on the Sabbath. How many complex replies have you given me on the Sabbath? How many times have you prompted me to fast on the Sabbath? How many times have you ended my fast on a Sabbath? The heart strings are stronger on this day, and I’m so thankful you called me to remember this day, as the command says “remember the Sabbath”. I guess you knew we’d forget, and make justifications and apply logic so we wouldn’t have to remember. It doesn’t fit into our schedules, Jesus. It doesn’t fit into the rat race of working every day of the week, every moment busy. But Yahweh knows we need to rest. That this constant business is a tool of satan to keep us distracted, tired, and disconnected from you, so it becomes easy to justify that we don’t have time for your Word, or to give kind words to others. No time to make real relationships with less than perfect people, so we can stay on our high horses, further condemning ourselves. But the Sabbath keeps us grounded and renewed. It keeps us centered in your Word, in prayer and in worship. What a beautiful thing it is to worship. Your presence is WITHIN our worship. Where we worship, the enemy cannot be. Where the Lord resides is holy and the enemy cannot walk on holy ground. What a brilliant and beautiful thing! I’ll honor your Sabbath and love every minute of it.

Will you please tell me exactly why I have to stay away from caffeine? Is it just because it’s an addiction (idol) or does it have something to do with being of a sober mind? It seems like anything brain altering should be avoided. I don’t think you told me to give it up, but I had this strong conviction in my spirit that the need for caffeine was separating us. And my ability to receive you has increased exponentially since giving it up. Not to say I don’t ever have a soda, but I don’t ‘need’ it, now. On the occasion when I drink caffeine, I can still sense you, so it must be the fact that I was addicted to caffeine and not just that it was altering my brain chemistry when I drank it. It seems like everyone should know the stumbling blocks we have set before us, but it’s all trial and error.

I heard you tell me that not everyone can elevate with me when it happens. That I have to leave some people behind because they are not marked for elevation, and that they don’t choose you. They choose opportunity. Opportunity is just another word for choosing advancement in the world instead of the will of Yahweh, isn’t it? They’re stuck in holding patterns, like I was. I’ll do as you say. I pray that you keep them well and healthy and whole. I pray that you continue to give me discernment to know who can be trusted to be near my blessings, and who can’t. I pray that you break off of me what can’t withstand the fire, and make new your will inside me. I pray that you help me to give love and mercy and kindness to others at even a fraction that you’ve given it to me. I know the talents you give to your servants aren't to be squandered or hidden away, but to be multiplied and returned to the Father in bounty. I pray, Jesus, please help me to succeed in multiplying what the Father has given me through your grace. Help me to give it away. Yahweh said that’s why he’s establishing me in the kingdom. Let me succeed, Jesus. Let me succeed by the will of Yahweh, and your Word in me.

You’re preparing another table as we speak. It’s not a table specifically for me. It’s a table of a great feast where many are invited, but refuse to come, and later the feast is extended to the peons. You’re setting the table now, but the responses are slim. You told me to call to the peons and the strangers and unknowing sinners. I don’t think the invitees realize they’ve been invited or even that they've declined. I know they should know, but they really don’t know, Jesus. How can they be held accountable for this? There’s no real talk of it in the churches and your Word is being watered down as time goes on. Christians who’ve never read the bible are leading other Christians. I pray for your sovereignty in all those who think they’re yours. Open them up and make them know you, so they can be receptive enough to see the invite and prepare accordingly! Who am I supposed to inform? None of us know when you’re coming, but I know you are. I think more and more of your people are waking up to it every day that you're coming soon. It's easy to get an invite. Be a christian, walk the path, accept the invitation. You know, in some ways it’s difficult being a Christian, but receiving your forgiveness is easy, enough. When I needed you, I simply cried out to you, and I felt the moment you saved me. I knew it in my heart and said it with my mouth, and I’ve been saved ever since. I didn't know it then but your Word even says to do this (The book of Romans, chapter 10:9-10) . What we’re not told though is that we need constant repentance, time in the Word, and time in prayer to realize the will of the father and follow. All of this is in the Bible but when you’re new to it all, it’s a lot to take in. Who can read it all overnight? There's a difference between believers and followers. We’re not told that, either. How can we receive full time benefits on part time faith? I guess what I’m saying is I pray for mercy on those who haven’t responded to the invitation, and please lead me to the people of the highways and byways who you decide to bring to your table. What more can I say? I’ve poured you out and I thank you for your constant renewal. Thanks for staying with me and for fueling my every breath. Thank you Jesus, I love you.

#dearjesusmemoirs #jesus #yeshua #yahweh #god #christian #holyspirit #thecure #therx #healthy #bornagain #blog

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littlehastingsliar · 7 years

Text

‘There’s no place like homecoming’- Jason imagine

Request:

Y/n is dating Jason (but secretly) then for the welcome ball Toby invites her as he did with Emily (1st season) and it happens the same as when Emily was alone with him the chemistry room.

Words: 2226

A/N: It’s been ages so it probably doesn’t make sense. Also it wasn’t going to be this long, then I re-watched the episode and kept adding and adding…. Hope its ok xxxx

You gently intertwined your fingers with Jason’s, the two of you pressed up against each other on your bed. Sighing softly, you closed your eyes as his other hand found your waist, his mouth nibbling the exposed skin on your neck.

“Let me take you to homecoming” he mumbled. You moaned in response, too lost in the moment to acknowledge what Jason had said. You repositioned yourself so you could unbutton his shirt. “y/n?” he took your hands in his, moving them away from the buttons. Blinking at him obliviously, your mouth slightly parted, you wondered why he had stopped you, almost offended. “I’m serious.” He continued, sitting back against the headboard. You pulled yourself up to be level with him.

“Serious about what?” you asked, tilting your head a small degree, the crease in your forehead conveying your confusion.

“About taking you to homecoming.” Your eyes widened and you sat up straight, eyes directed at the floor. Jason’s hand settled on your thigh, his thumb massaging your bare skin soothingly.

“oh.” was all you could reply. None of your friends knew that you and Jason were together. You were both in favour of keeping it a secret when you got together. Both out of fear of judgement. It wasn’t that you were ashamed, but Jason was your dead best friend’s brother and your friends would find it very weird.

“Yeah. I thought as much.” Jason retorted, moving to perch on the edge of the bed. You crawled over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to keep him from standing up.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you, it’s just I’m worried about the girls reactions.” You spoke guiltily. “I don’t want them to disapprove of us. Their opinions mean a lot to me.” Jason looked back, angling his torso towards you.

“But y/n… you don’t know how they’re going to react. They might be happy for us. Maybe what we need to do is give us a proper chance.” Jason argued. You stayed silent for a few seconds, contemplating what he’d said. Reluctantly, but with a small smile, you agreed. Jason beamed in response, wrapping his arms around your hips and pressing his weight on you so that you were lying down on the bed, his body hovering over yours.

“I didn’t realise you were such a big fan of homecomings Dilaurentis.” You teased, your fingers finding their way to his shirt buttons once again. This time Jason didn’t stop you.

In the week running up to homecoming, Aria, spencer, Emily and Hanna all badgered you with questions about who your date was. Each time you pretended to zip your mouth shut and carried on with your business. They had created lots of theories, each crazier than the last but you never gave in.

One day at the end of school you heard someone approaching behind you. “No for the last time, I will not tell you who I’m going to homecoming with!” you lectured, thumping your locker door closed. Behind it, stood toby Cavanaugh, one of your neighbours. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyebrows raised. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.” you apologised profusely. Toby put his hands up in front of him, assuring you that it was ok. You exhaled in relief. “What can I do for you Toby?” You smiled politely. You knew it was logical to think that toby was working for Jenna, after all they were family. Yet you couldn’t quite believe it. He had always been nice to you and even though the girls thought he was a freak, you had other ideas.

“I was just wondering if you would like to go to homecoming, but by the sounds of it you already have a date. Don’t worry about it.” you noticed how he forced a smile on his blushed face and fidgeted nervously. Traipsing through your memory, you couldn’t remember a single time that he had attended a school dance, let alone asked someone.

“Actually I don’t have a date.” You bit your lip as you lied, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you had a proper chance to stop them. His face lit up.

“Uhm. Well, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He confirmed, heading off before you could change your mind. You lightly rested your head against your locker, squeezing your eyes shut. Knowing how disappointed Jason would be, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. You didn’t want to have this conversation in person, as you weren’t sure he would understand why you had to go with toby. You sent the text cancelling your plans, promising that you would tell your friends the next day instead.

Between the end of school and 8pm you had bumped into Jason, receiving a scoff from him and a cold shoulder.

Walking up to the front of school, you noticed how anxious toby was. He shook his upper body, breathing out heavily. You tried reassuring him that it would be fine that you’d eat and drink and play games and have a good time. With a newfound confidence he grabbed your hand and lead you inside, with your other hand, you glanced down at your phone. Jason had read the texts you sent him explaining yourself yet there was no reply. Your heart dropped. You coerced a smile onto your face and entered the school hall.

The music was loud, the majority of the students on the dance floor, with a couple of people socialising throughout the room. Spotting your friends shocked faces in the dark blue light, you escorted toby towards them. When you arrived at their group, they all greeted you apprehensively. Noticing the awkward atmosphere, toby offered to get you a drink, leaving you alone with your friends. As soon as he left, they leant in towards you.

“You came with toby?!” Hanna exclaimed, checking to see that he was a far enough distance behind her so she wasn’t heard. “You know he’s dangerous. He might be working against us. He could be A!” Aria and spencer agreed, backing up Hanna’s case.

“But we don’t know that for sure and he has always been decent to me.” You stated. “I’m not asking you to be friends with him, just be civil for tonight.” The girls never answered, their attention drawn to the entrance once again. Scowling, you twirl around to see Jason. He strolled down the steps Melissa glued to his arm.

“Why is Jason Dilaurentis with my sister? And what is my sister doing at our homecoming?” spencer hissed behind you.

Jason’s eyes scanned the room, meeting yours. He wore an impassive expression, quickly focusing his interest back to Melissa and her interactions with the party’s guests. His actions were petty, and you were aware that you shouldn’t be upset. But nobody knew you were together and now everyone would think that Jason was with her. Jealousy swelled up inside your chest. Without delay toby appeared and you ushered him away to play some games.

“They don’t like me, do they?” Toby announced as you stood in line for the beanbag game. Subconsciously, you searched for Jason in the crowd.

“They just don’t know you.” You assured passively, as you both moved forward in the line. He played with the hem of his jacket, nodding slowly. You weren’t about to confess to toby that your glum mood was due to Jason and not the girls disapproval of your choice date. Anyway, If you had chosen to go with Jason, their faces when he walked in with Melissa confirmed that they wouldn’t be thrilled with that date choice either.

“Yeah a lot of people don’t know me.” There was a small pause as the music carried on blasting. “How about we get out of here for a while. The chemistry lab will be quiet, I know the teacher leaves it open at night by mistake.” He suggested. Wanting some space from staring eyes, you agreed, heading out of the hall.

The chemistry lab was dark, writing still left on the board from the last lesson of the day. The stools were in odd places, students leaving the room hastily as the bell sounded. It gave the room an eerie feeling. You wandered further in, thinking how different it looked at night.

“It’s Jason isn’t It.” toby declared, meriting a stunned look from you. Placing your bag on the bench closest to you, you weakly denied his statement. You let the emotions inside of you cloud your brain and you found yourself retracting your words, deciding to be honest instead. “The date that you were referring to earlier was Jason wasn’t it.” Toby pushed further, leaning against the doorframe. You shrugged your shoulders dejectedly. His left hand reached out and tugged the door closed as he moved advanced into the room. “From what the other four were saying, I guess your relationship is a secret.” Toby smirked.

You shifted uncomfortably at the topic of conversation. “We all have secrets.” You defended. Your phone rang out in your bag. You picked it up, arias name flashing across the screen.

“Don’t answer it.” toby sternly ordered. You studied him cautiously, noticing his behaviour altering. “I want to tell you what happened last summer. I want you to hear it from me.” Shaking your head, you put your phone back in your bag and headed towards the door. As you passed toby he gripped your arm, holding you against one of the benches.

“Toby you’re scaring me and I’d like you to let go.” You stressed each word, leaning away from him. A text came through on your phone. Peering down, you read the words that made your heart hammer against your chest.

‘He’s the person who killed Ali, we have the proof. You have to get away. Where are you?’

“Is that them?” toby sneered. Trying to read your messages while you shoved your phone away.

“I have to go now.” You spoke shakily. He moved towards you with every step back you took, questioning why you had to go so suddenly. His hands constantly grabbed your arms each time you tugged them away from him. In a panic you pushed his chest. Toby stumbled back into a cabinet, the glass cutting his cheek as the contents fell to the floor. Dazed, he touched the cut, blood soaking his fingertips. When his hand reached up, his top followed, revealing a tattoo on his hip. You scampered to the door, struggling to open it. You could hear his footsteps approaching you, only leading to more panic. You called out for help as you ran down the corridor. Hearing the distant chatter get louder and louder, you quickened your pace. All of a sudden your ankle twisted over in your heels. A Small scream escaped your lips as you fell to the floor.

You felt a warm liquid ooze down your forehead as you attempted to open your eyes, the vision too blurry to make out what was happening. The pain in your wrist and head was overwhelming and you gave in to the darkness once again.

The next day you lay in bed, your wrist strapped up and your head stitched. The police were downstairs questioning your parents about the night before and you were trying to make sense of it yourself. Aria and Emily had dropped in earlier to explain what they had found out. Yet none of it made sense. If toby had wanted to kill you, or wanted you hurt, why did he take you to the hospital? Why not leave you in the corridor or drive you out to the middle of nowhere and leave you there?

Your train of thought was interrupted as there was a tentative knock on your bedroom door. “Come in.” you called. Jason entered, clearly pained to see you injured. He opened his mouth to ask for forgiveness for his actions at homecoming. But you just silenced him, moving over in your bed, lifting the covers up so that he could join you. Cautiously, he got in the bed, cuddling up next to you so your noses were virtually touching. He held your face, tilting it to examine the cut.

“I shouldn’t have ditched you for toby.” you scrunched up your face, hating it when you have to admit that Jason is right. Jason chuckled, his hair flopping over. “What’s so funny?” You quizzed, moving your hand to jokingly punch him when you realised you couldn’t.

“We both made a mistake yesterday. I had to stand next to Melissa and smile as she made small talk with the most boring people I’ve ever met. As long as you’re ok, I’d like to forget all about It.” you smiled, agreeing, pecking him on the lips to confirm. “I may have to pay a visit to toby though.” He teased, a serious note present in his tone of voice.

“I’ll tell the girls about us.” Jason’s perked up. “You’re a dork Dilaurentis.”

“I’ll happily be a dork if it means I get to finally show everyone that I love you.” Jason charmed. Giggling, you snuggled against him. The dance played through your mind over and over again as you tried to make a sense of everything you had learnt.

#PLL #pll imagine #pll preferences #pretty little liars #pretty little liars imagine #pretty little liars preferences #jason dilaurentis #Jason Imagine #jason dilaurentis imagine #jason dilaurentis preference #drew van acker #Toby Cavanaugh #toby cavanaugh imagine #toby cavanaugh preference #Keegan Allen #Aria Montgomery #spencer hastings #emily fields #hanna marin

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theuniverseofgail-blog · 6 years

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Okeechobee

This entry will not do my experience at Okeechobee justice. Not only because I am waiting over 4 months to finally try and recount my time there, but because words are at a disadvantage when it comes to taking raw feelings and identifying them. Here is my attempt:

My invite was as last-minute as it gets. This festival had been planned since Christmas for my boyfriend, Sam, and his brother, Jacob. Maddie, Jacob’s (now ex) girlfriend would accompany the two and arrange for everyone to link up with this group of mutually acquainted festival-goers. Unfortunately for Jacob, his asshole professor refused to work with him and his chemistry test on the intended day of departure, leaving his ticket up for grabs. For some bizarre reason I was on the fence about taking his spot. Whether it was out of guilt or fear, who knows. I am just relieved I grew a pair and looked past my irrational skepticism.

The drive was 11 hours and actually passed fairly quickly. Dab breaks definitely played a factor there. When we finally got there, there was no time to feel out the place, we immediately unpacked what would become our little home for the following days. Tent and all, we set up and decorated a personal campground for our hippie gang. I loved living that way. There is something so satisfying about simplfying living conditions down to the bare necessity. Cutting out the luxuries we use and overlook on a daily basis -television, air conditioning, refrigerators, microwaves, bathrooms, chargers- and instead relying solely on nature. Setting up our campground in a way set up the experience. We mingled and made friends easily, that component is key. I grew ridiculously close to the people inhabiting our grounds in a ridiculously short period of time. But that's just the (amazing) thing, it’s impossible to walk out of a festival without friends. It feels like everyone there is on the same peace and love-endorsing wavelength. It is something else. You don’t know anyone’s story, but you know that everyone there sacrificed the time and money for the sake of music. You’re all there for the experience and for improving it, which creates immediate fellowship. There’s an unspoken understanding that the only thing appropriate for radiation is positivity. It’s almost like the festival rewired the brain chemistry of the occupants strictly to favorable thought patterns, like even our vocabularies underwent an unusual excess of encouraging words. It quickly became evident, that regardless of where you were, if you ran into people, they were undoubtedly enjoying themselves.

Once we were all moved in, Sam and I channelled our excitement into pregaming. We didn’t waste any time getting beer drunk for the upcoming performers. That night turned into a necessary wakeup call in regard to my bodily limits. It turns out, I can’t stomach like 10 beers in like 2 hours. The fun ended in a puddle of my piss. I decided to lay down in the tent before recuperating... that escalated. I sincerely thought I was on the brink of death that night/morning. I peed my pants, the sleeping bag, the blankets, hell the whole tent, in addition to throwing up pretty much any vital body part in my stomach. I was mortified with myself and feared judgement from my renowned and respected hippy gang. Of course hardly anyone noticed, nor mentioned it. At this point, I acknowledged my size and decided to let it dictate my choices in regard to all of the illegal unmentionables, aka drugs and alcohol.

This first night nightmare actually shaped me up nicely. I managed my Molly and acid intake responsibly, which is where it counts. It was my first time taking Molly and looking back I really wouldn't have done it differently. I knew it had kicked in when my body was possessed by this unshakable urge to move. Which is exactly what I did. Sam and I literally danced our asses off for who knows how long. It was amazing though. Every nerve in my body wanted to express how good the music made it feel, so it did just that. It’s like your body enters “Molly mode,” complete with an endless tank of dance moves, energy, and happiness. Heat and exhaustion will, however, challenge the “endless” aspect of this tank, let me warn you. The acid, on the other hand, rocked my world, in the best way ever possible.

I’ve messed around with psychedelics a good bit so I knew what I was getting into. Sam, however, was an acid virgin. It was the last day and acid was brought up and some things lead to another and we decided to trip together. I was reluctant because, well acid is acid, and you can’t predict how your mind responds to psychedelics. A festival is a prime acid environment if you are familiar with tripping, but to a newbie it could be way too overwhelming. Sam handled everything perfectly though, to my pleasant surprise. Which is the only contender when it comes to choosing words to adequately describe that experience... perfect. Despite belonging to a bigger group, Sam and I generally ventured off on our own. It was nothing against our company, but really just a way to ensure we could see my favorite artists -his too, I just had three times as many. This isolation bonded us on its own -the simple concept of two people, in a crowd of thousands, desiring nothing but one another’s company. As long as he was with me, I felt comfortable and safe, oh and then there was the uncontrollable happiness. Hand in hand, it felt like it was us against the world, in a world that wasn't even out for us, more like a world that worshipped us. Not that the world worshipped us, as in a materialistic manner, but that it worshiped us together, the unification of us. Everything, every little thing, felt so insanely right. There was this palm tree forest of hammocks tucked behind the walkway, and we laid there for forever. I was just so intently content. Our playlist was whatever the next unthinkably talented band or artist wanted to perform for us. All of it, regardless of the genre, was extraordinary. (Excluding like this 45 second clip of a trumpet in dire need of tuning. It resembled the noise a cat makes when you strangle it following a vocal-cord removal procedure.) But as I was suspended in that Eno with Sam, I had this recognition, a magical one. This feeling, a feeling that nothing in the world could pollute, no outside force could alter, was love! I was in love with this boy. I thought that perhaps the acid was making the sun’s warmth feel affectionate, and turning the air sweet, and giving the palm leaves personality, and revealing to me all of these unidentified colors... but I was wrong. It was love! Processing that discovery was glorious. I looked at Sam and was completely overcome by affection for him. Acknowledging my love for him either instilled or made light of a new, unwavering faith in us. Accepting my love for him was like taking a blurry pic of all of the wonders of the world and watching it focus into a clear, sharp, edge-cutting masterpiece. It was the epitome of bliss. I’ll carry a photographic print of the ways his eyes looked around at the world and perceived it through his own personalized lenses forever. They would water because he would forget to blink because he saw earth for the astonishing exhibit it is. He is so incredible in the most subtle ways. Throughout the entirety of the trip, I became more and more drawn to him. I was so oblivious to the effects he had on me until I was forced to face them, all of them. As it got darker, I found my body longing for his. I lusted him unlike any time before and couldn't quiet the thoughts and desires without him physically putting them to peace. And as you can guess, that’s how the perfect night following the perfect day following the perfect trip ended. Some good, old-fashioned tent sex. But really, that was my favorite sex, to this day. Every sensation was heightened, it felt euphoric.

And that’s how it went. That’s why it was so good. Two kids, completely and irrevocably in love, at a music festival. But don't get me wrong, it wasn’t the experiences themselves -not even the private concerts from bucket-list musicians- but the ability to share those experiences with the love of my life. He wasn't just there for some of the best memories of my life, he helped create them.

So that’s a recap!

There are my favorite days of my life succumbed into some paragraphs.

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chocolatequeennk · 7 years

Text

An Ever-fixed Mark, 2/2

This is part of A Slight Deviation in Timelines, following Voicemail from the Future. Ten x Rose, proposal and bonding fic.

This is my apology fic to @lastbluetardis for future angst. It fills the wedding and telepathy squares in my fluffuary card for @legendslikestardust. And it was inspired by this quote prompt from @doctorroseprompts: “Everyone deserves a person who will make their heart forget that it was once broken.”— T.W.

The Doctor had had plans, once. Plans that had been derailed in a barren room in Canary Wharf. But Time has plans of her own, and has brought Rose home. Now, after the slightest deviation from the timelines, it’s time for the Doctor to carry out his plans.

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 1

The Doctor would have been content to stand in the snowy woods kissing Rose forever, but only a few minutes had passed when he felt her shiver in his arms. When he looked down at her, bathed in purple light, he couldn’t resist pressing one more kiss to her lips before stepping back and taking her hand.

“Let’s go home, where it’s warm,” he suggested, and she nodded as another shiver shook her body.

“And then once we’ve cuddled in front of the fire and drank our tea, maybe you can tell me what it was you wanted to tell me?” Rose looked up at him as they approached the TARDIS. “Don’t think you’re getting out of that.”

The Doctor shook his head vehemently. “I promise you, I have no intention of getting out of it.”

That was absolutely true, even if thinking about discussing bonding with Rose made his hearts beat unnaturally fast. As if she picked up on his nerves, she brushed her thumb over his. The Doctor felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease; Rose’s touch had always been able to calm him.

They left their outerwear draped over the struts in the console room, then hurried to the library. Two steaming mugs of tea were waiting for them and a fire blazed in the hearth. The Doctor thanked his ship silently, then sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “Sit with me, love,” he invited. When she cuddled up next to him, he pulled a blanket off the floor and tucked it around their legs.

Once they’d drunk their tea and warmed up nicely, Rose tapped the Doctor’s knee. “Start talking,” she teased, looking up at him with her tongue poking out. “I’m pretty curious, since whatever you have to tell me you thought about saying before you proposed.”

She withdrew her hand from underneath the blanket and admired her ring in the firelight. The Doctor caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm first, then to the ring newly adorning her finger. Then he laced their hands together and rested them on top of the blanket before taking a deep breath.

“There was a reason I brought you as close to Gallifrey as possible to propose. There’s… my people…” Rose squeezed his hand, and he smiled at her in thanks. “I may look human, Rose, but I’m very definitely alien. And sometimes, that means I’m used to different customs than you are.”

Rose furrowed her brow when the Doctor paused again. She started to tell him they didn’t need to talk about whatever was on his mind, if it was so difficult, but then she remembered what he’d said before proposing.

I really do want to share this with you.

But she couldn’t just watch him struggle to find the words without trying to help somehow. She thought quickly, then said, “Do you mean Time Lords got married differently somehow?”

The Doctor blinked. “Yes. That’s… how…”

Rose shook her head. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. You brought up different social customs right after proposing to me.” She turned slightly and rested her free hand on his knee. “Go on then, Doctor. What was a Time Lord wedding like?”

The Doctor shook his head, then brushed a piece of hair back over her ear. “Rose Tyler, you are…” He sighed, then took her hand again. “Telepathic, Rose. Time Lord weddings were telepathic.”

As soon as he said it, Rose realised she’d known that, from the start. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt like she’d read the Doctor’s mind, but it was the first time that telepathy was actually the topic.

“That makes sense, since you were telepathic and all.” she said quietly. “Tell me what it was like, your…” She paused and frowned up at the Doctor. “I don’t even know what to call it.”

“A telepathic bond,” he supplied. “Specifically in this case, a marriage bond. Partners were known as bondmates.”

Rose nodded. “All right then. Tell me what a marriage bond would be like.”

The Doctor rested his head against the back of the couch and tried to bring his breathing under control. She’d asked what it would be like, not what it was like. That implied… she seemed to be saying she was interested…

He shook his head quickly and forced himself to focus. You have to tell her what a bond was like before she can make any kind of decision. Of course Rose won’t reject the idea out of hand. That doesn’t mean she’ll be interested once she knows all it entails.

When he looked over at Rose again, the patient love in her eyes encouraged him. “I can only tell you what I’ve heard,” he cautioned. “Even though I was married once, we didn’t have a bond. They’d sort of fallen out of favour by then—the more we evolved as a society, the less interested we were in connecting with others.”

Rose frowned. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Not really, no.” He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth, wondering which part of the bond to explain first. “A marriage bond is the deepest telepathic connection two people can have,” he said, finally deciding to start with the part that was most likely to make Rose think twice. “We would still be two minds, but two minds occupying one space.”

“Would we be able to read each other’s minds? I mean, if your mind is in the same place as mine, it sounds like your thoughts would be there too…”

The Doctor clenched his eyes shut. He’d known Rose wouldn’t like that part. “It wouldn’t be as automatic as what you’re imagining, but… yes. There is very little room for privacy in a bond.”

“So…” Rose brushed her thumb over his knuckles. “I would be able to really know you? Every part of you, even the parts you don’t like to talk about?”

His eyes flew open. There was so much longing in her words that for a moment, he thought he could actually feel it. “Yes,” he whispered. “You would know the truest part of me. That’s why Time Lords stopped sharing bonds—they didn’t like how vulnerable it made them to one another.”

“You would trust me with that?”

Rose’s eyes sought his, and the Doctor reached out and cupped her jaw with his hand. “There is no one I trust more, Rose.”

She smiled and turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. “Then I would love to bond with you.”

The Doctor’s hearts leapt, but he shook his head. “There’s more,” he cautioned. The TARDIS grumbled at him, but he refused to rush Rose into this. “I want you to understand all of it before you agree.”

She rolled her eyes and smirked up at him. “I can’t think of anything that would make me change my mind, but if it makes you feel better…”

He leaned down and kissed her, then pulled back and smiled. “It does make me feel better. This is a major life decision, love. It wouldn’t be fair of me to let you accept before you know everything that’s involved.”

Rose gestured for him to continue. “Carry on then, Doctor.”

“So… the word bond kind of implies this part, but just in case… Marriage bonds are unbreakable. During the bonding process, our brain chemistry is permanently altered to allow for the presence of another mind in ours. That’s not something that could be undone.”

Rose blinked, then pulled back and knotted her hands together on her lap. “Not ever?”

The Doctor gaped down at her. He’d never thought this would be the part of bonding Rose would object to. “I thought…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “You promised to stay with me forever. I thought… but if you don’t want…” He swallowed hard. “We can have an Earth wedding, if this is too much. You and me together, Rose. That’s all I want.”

Tears welled up in Rose’s eyes, and she shook her head fiercely. “Oh, no Doctor! That’s not what I meant. I’m still gonna stay with you forever. But…” She bit her lip, then said, “But my forever doesn’t even come close to yours. I don’t know what it’s like when a bondmate dies, but if your entire brain has changed to be joined to mine, and then I’m gone… I can’t imagine that would feel good.” She reached out and traced her finger over his left eyebrow. “I don’t want to leave you suffering like that for centuries.”

Relief flooded through him. “Oh! But you haven’t let me finish.” Rose arched an eyebrow, and he grinned down at her. “You are absolutely right—losing a bondmate was excruciating. Because of that, if a Time Lord bonded with a non-regenerating species, including ordinary Gallifreyans, the lifespan of the bondmate was extended to match the Time Lord bondmate.”

Rose stilled and her eyes widened. “You mean…”

The Doctor felt like he was floating above the couch. This was the absolute best part of bonding with Rose, as far as he was concerned. “You can spend the rest of your life with me, Rose… and if we had a bond, I could spend the rest of mine with you.”

Rose stared at her ring for a few minutes, trying to gather the courage to ask her question. The way he described a bond sounded… it was exactly like what she’d wanted to share with him, only she hadn’t known it would be possible.

Even better, it sounded like it could be done without any of the hassle of planning a wedding. Rose didn’t have any family left on Earth, and the thought of going to the effort of planning an Earth wedding just didn’t appeal to her at all.

That just left the question of timing.

“Could we do it right now?”

The Doctor blinked several times in a row. “Right now?” he squeaked. “As in, right here? You in your jeans and me in my suit? No planning or… anything?”

Rose frowned up at the Doctor for a moment; if she didn’t know how much he wanted to bond with her, she’d think he was having second thoughts. But why…

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “Oh,” she mumbled. “Is there some kind of… of ritual or something? Like are we supposed to wait a certain number of days or wear special clothes? I just thought… It sounds like a bond is something we could do in the privacy of our own home instead of having a big to-do. And I missed you so much while I was gone. I really don’t want to wait any longer than we have to.”

The Doctor chuckled and took both her hands. “We really need to stop talking at cross-purposes, love. I was just surprised you would be so eager. Believe me, if you’re positive you want to share a bond with me, I don’t mind not waiting any longer.”

Rose squeezed his hands. “Then let’s do it, Doctor. Right here. Let’s get married.”

A wave of intense joy momentarily choked the Doctor. I take back everything I said before, he told the TARDIS. Thank you for insisting I get up.

Rose’s head was cocked, and he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “The first step is to connect our minds, like we would if I were helping you with nightmares.” He put his hands on her temples and nodded at her. “You too, love. We both need to be an active participant.”

A zing shot through the Doctor when Rose’s fingers touched his temples, and he blinked down at her. That feels like… He shook his head. It must just be the anticipation.

But then he lowered his barriers and her mind flowed into his, filling him with golden light. The Doctor stared at her telepathic presence in awe. Rose… you… you’re telepathic.

The Rose in his mind walked towards him and took his hand. I create myself, my Doctor.

In the library, the Doctor’s fingers trembled on Rose’s temples. Those words had terrified him once, but today, they slotted into Time in a way that felt so right, he couldn’t be afraid. Rose was the Bad Wolf; she would always be the Bad Wolf. She’d created herself for him, and then he had turned around and regenerated into this form for her.

Rose gasped, and the Doctor remembered belatedly that their minds were connected. You chose this body for me?

He smiled sheepishly. Not just the body. The accent, the quirky sense of humour, the willingness to visit your mother… I adored you, and I wanted to be someone you could love in return.

Rose blinked, and golden tears caught on her eyelashes. You daft idiot, she said affectionately. I loved that you, even with all your grumbling about domestics and griping about pretty boys.

The Doctor tamped down his desire to find out what she’d thought of his old self. We can talk about that later. Right now, I think we have business to attend to. He waggled his eyebrows.

Rose laughed. Such a romantic way to refer to our wedding. But okay, let’s get on with it. I feel like this is just… just a tease, a taste. And I’m ready for the rest.

Right, the Doctor said. I’m going to start my end of the bond. When you pick up on what I’m doing, try to copy it as best you can.

Rose closed her eyes when she felt the Doctor move into her mind. This was far more intimate than anything they’d ever done before, and desire rippled through her. The blue of the Doctor’s telepathic presence deepened in response, and she could hear him clear his throat.

Later, he promised. I promise, once we’re bonded…

A flurry of images passed over their fledgling bond. Rose exerted every bit of her control to stay focused on what the Doctor was doing, and not how it made her feel.

Once she caught the rhythm of how he was winding himself around her mind, she stepped into the dance, twisting left when he went right, until the two cords of their minds were twined so tightly that they looked like a single strand.

One last step. The Doctor stood still finally, facing her, and took her hands. A string of Gallifreyan flowed from his lips, and Rose felt her mental space shift as it merged with his. His thoughts and feelings sharpened, as if she’d been looking at them through a haze before and now could see them clearly.

The Doctor smiled. That’s exactly what it should feel like. Oh, Rose. How can you possibly love me so much?

Wrapped as she was in the warmth of the Doctor’s love, Rose couldn’t even answer.

He let go of one of her hands and wiped away a tear she hadn’t realised had fallen. It’s time to tie together our timelines. Are you ready?

Energy thrummed through Rose, and she nodded eagerly. Yes, please. I want to share a forever with you.

He spoke in Gallifreyan again, but this time, their new bond translated it to English for her. Rose Tyler, I pledge myself to you for all my remaining regenerations. The gift that time has given me I now share with you.

Rose waited, but she didn’t feel any different. Was something supposed to happen?

Your timeline refuses to match mine.

A familiar voice hummed through their mind, but for once, instead of just getting a sense of the overall thought the TARDIS was trying to share, Rose heard words.

We are the Bad Wolf, my Thief. You cannot shorten our timeline by binding it to yours, but we can lengthen yours by tying it to ours.

The Doctor sucked in a breath when he felt Rose and the TARDIS take his timeline in their hands and stretch it between them, until it matched theirs. Decades grew into centuries, centuries became millennia.

This was who they were now. The Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler, no longer just travelling in time, but now living with time in their veins. There was an absolute rightness in that knowledge that felt like a fixed point, and he knew that even if Rose hadn’t found her way home to him now, this would have happened eventually.

Visions of Donna Noble and Daleks and a duplicate version of himself filled his time senses, then were quickly replaced by Rose and Donna laughing together as they talked to Agatha Christie. Dizziness crept up on him, as it always did when timelines shifted.

The feeling slowly faded, along with the glimpses he’d caught of their future. When the Doctor came back to himself, he was no longer deep in Rose’s telepathic embrace. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, the TARDIS hummed smugly, and Rose…

Rose was smiling at him with the golden light of time still faintly visible in her eyes. “I did promise you forever,” she reminded him.

The Doctor laughed and pulled her into his lap. “Yes, you did.” He bumped his nose against hers. “I should have known you would find a way to make that promise come true.”

She tilted her head back, and that wasn’t an invitation he could resist. He slotted his lips over hers, suckling at her bottom lip before he nipped at it lightly. Any cockiness he felt when he heard her moan disappeared when she scraped her nails through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

Rose, he groaned as he swept his tongue into her mouth.

Yes, Doctor? Her tongue met his, then darted back into her own mouth as she teased him.

The Doctor gathered his rapidly dwindling self control and stood up, holding Rose up in a bridal carry. She shrieked with laughter and wrapped her arms around his neck, and some of his earlier smugness returned.

Rose raised an eyebrow and moved one hand around to undo his tie and the top three buttons of his shirt. He groaned and nearly dropped her when she licked at his neck before sucking on his Adam’s apple.

“Just wait a few minutes, love,” he said, his voice raspier than he’d anticipated.

She hummed, then pulled back and looked up at him. “Where are you taking me?”

He sighed in gratitude and adjusted his hold on her before pushing the door open with his shoulder and stepping into the corridor. “Back to our room. As comfy as that couch is, I have no intention of spending our wedding night in the library.”

Rose’s impish humour flared over the bond, and the Doctor arched an eyebrow. She winked up at him. “I guess we have plenty of time to christen all the rooms of the TARDIS,” she mused. “After all, today is just the first day of our forever.”

The Doctor’s throat closed up, and he carefully set Rose back down on her feet in front of their bedroom door. “Yes, it is,” he agreed. “And I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #legendslikestardust #lastbluetardis #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #telepathy #telepathic bond #bad wolf!rose is important to me #and this is a different take on it than i've done before #i might have also given myself an idea for a tentoo/rose fic in the process #which never happens #so wow #but for now...#all the ten/rose bonding happiness #cq's fic: an ever-fixed mark #series: a slight deviation in timelines #fic by Nancy

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