#asshole brain also wants a hug but does not have appropriate people to ask for a hug

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 19

First time reader click here

Summary+TWs: We're talking serious feelings here, okay? Reader, you're literally emotionally illiterate. You also have PTSD, which is finally addressed - kinda. Bruce does his best. And he also knows how to kiss... But y'all know that if you read my ramblings about lucid dreaming/shifting/whatever... Chile-, anyways...

My phone kept buzzing and I ignored it until Bruce declared it was time to take a break and review the results. Whilst the man was typing up the data on a nearby StarkPad, I fought the sudden influx of messages that I received from haters and supporters alike after Tony decided on tweeting a reply that could be interpreted in an alarming variety of ways. It was a smart move, I'll admit, but a fucking bother for me nonetheless.

Disabling my DMs and dealing with a follower increase in the thousands wasn't hard; I didn't consider myself a problematic asshole and didn't need to be afraid of "exposure". The parties I went to - I doubted there was any blackmail material in there and the few nudes I'd sent over the years were always face-less. As a gen Z, I knew my internet safety.

The trolls didn't bother me either. It was more sad than annoying, people shitting on others for clout. Iron Man stans were witty, at least, if jealous. I must admit I've never considered the influx of popularity I would experience should I publicly out myself as a friend of Tony's. Girlfriend? Intern? Science child? Whatever cover story he was going to feed the press worked for me, as long as I still got the hugs, the kisses, the dick and the attention.

"Tony..." Bruce groaned, evidently done with the data processing, had to have opened his social media to see his own skyrocketing popularity.

"Yeah, our Tony is being a Tony again," I chuckled, having reset my social media settings so my phone wouldn't constantly beep, vibrate and bother me. School was going to be fun.

Bruce shook his head, fond, coming over to my side of the lab after removing his own hazmat suit. His eyes shiny with newfound knowledge and hair turned adorably fluffy in the confines of the head covering. He was smiling softly. "Food?"

"Sure."

We chewed our sandwiches in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts.

"I still can't believe Tony told everyone on Twitter you're his girlfriend, usually he keeps this stuff private or schedules a fancy press conference," Bruce's tone was thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what it was? Seemed ambiguous to me..." I trailed off, confused.

"He worded it like that on purpose, I mean, you're still in high school," The scientist was confident in his words. "But I know Tony. I'm a hundred percent sure that he meant exactly that. Aren't you?"

Shock flooded me. Suddenly, I understood I completely misread the situation. "Um, no? I thought we were, y'know, just fucking. We never defined our relationship and we're definitely not exclusive." I said, chewing on my lip. "You make a valid argument, I'm a high school student and he's a grown ass man that does grown man stuff. Putting aside the fact that he could have anybody in the world so why would he choose me?" I was rambling, thinking out loud. Discussing my feelings has never my strong forte. "It would be stupid to impose monogamy on such a complex man like Tony. Downright idiotic to expect a genius to confine to social norms just because it suits others." I finished with a wave of my hand. Another bubble of thought that had festered within me for the longest time. I felt relieved, finally voicing it out loud. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I wasn't previously consciously aware of.

Bruce was watching me intently, with an unreadable expression that held the tiniest bit of awe, admiration perhaps. The silence that followed was unnerving. I fidgeted with my hands, not really knowing where to put them or where to look.

"You know," He took off his glasses, fiddling them in his hands. "I'm not going to sugar coat it. For the longest time, I thought you were going to inadvertently hurt him when you get bored with whatever you've got going on. I respect you, don't misunderstand me, but you are young. Now, I've changed my mind. You've changed my mind," He punctuated his statement with his hand on mine, grasping it. "I think you managed to understand him in a way most people can't. Or don't want to. Understand and accept him in a way that some of us can't even after years of working and living side by side with him." Bruce's gentle fingers skimmed along the top of my palm.

"I don't always understand Tony but I do accept him," I agreed. "Because Tony is a great man."

"I think you're in love with him," Bruce said, absolutely having ignored my previous statement. Just like that, point blank, he pushed to the surface the very feelings I got so good at ignoring. There was no rest for me in this place.

My heart fluttered, picking up the pace. I kept my mouth shut, not trusting it whatsoever. My thoughts became akin to panicked hares, jumping and zigzagging aimlessly in my skull. I didn't see the point in defending myself because the scientist had pointed out the obvious.

Bruce looked at me, softly, warmly. "And don't think we haven't noticed the rise in team morale. The improvement not only in communication, but on the battlefield, too. It's easier to entrust your back to someone with whom you've shared a laugh and a drink the previous night. You're the glue that keeps us together."

Something warm and wet was on my cheeks. I stared at our clasped hands, his words echoing in my head over and over and over. The moment I realized I was crying, I willed myself to stop and failed spectacularly - only more salty fluid streamed down, some of it getting in my nose, on my lips. The sleepless nights were making me unstable.

It took a single sniffle for Bruce to pick me up and wrap up in his kind embrace. I didn't resist, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, holding onto the back of his lab coat, inhaling the smell of his skin and chemicals. It was familiar, calming. Minutes ticked by with me slowly leaking the tension out of my body.

"He loves you, too, maybe he just doesn't realize it yet." Bruce whispered into my hair. "I've never seen Tony so happy, even with Pepper. You are special and you are loved."

There was something unsaid, I felt it. It hung in the ear, it burned the tips of my ears, stood sharp on the tip of my tongue. "I love you too, Bwucie-bear," I whispered into the space between his ear and his jaw. His arms tightened around me.

The man placed several chaste kisses in my hair, running a palm over my back. In moments like these, the crush for him, the very crush that got out of control, blossomed fully into a deep sense of respect and admiration. He made me feel safe. He said all the right words at the right time.

Drowsiness overtook me. As usual, any worries and anxieties I had evaporated, once Banner had his arms around me, shielding me from the world. I didn't forbid myself this time: delicately, my hand slipped through the man's soft messy curls, eliciting a contented sigh.

"You haven't been sleeping well," He more stated than asked.

I had no choice but to nod. "Clint keeps dying in my dreams. Or even worse, he doesn't, he just suffers, endlessly, painfully." I admitted.

Bruce flinched under me, tensing. My face was in between his hands in a second, the scientist sternly looking into my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything? All of us assumed you were okay after what happened." He looked - angry. Not Hulk-out pissed but Bruce-pissed, which equalled a kicked-puppy look seasoned with a great pinch of disappointment.

"I am okay." I lied, shamelessly. "It's getting better. That's why I want to have a party - relax a little, dance, socialize. I don't think Tony would let me go on my own so I figured I can convince him to throw one here." I looked away. It was better for everyone if I dealt with my own problems - they were superheroes, not babysitters.

Bruce frowned. "Why wouldn't Tony let you go?"

"Because of that one time I snorted coke," I rolled my eyes at Bruce's naiveté, leaving the less obvious parts unsaid. Tony knew exactly what I was going to do once I got free reign, he considered it destructive and told me so himself. Admittedly, he had a point but still... I wished I'd been given a choice.

"I'll talk to him," Bruce nodded firmly. "That's not acceptable. He can't forbid you from making mistakes and learning from them."

He was met with my shrug. No excitement came from me regarding this particular turn of conversation. I was drained, limbs like jello, thoughts sluggish. My face was drooping.

"Let's get you to bed," Banner stood up with me wrapped around him. "You need a nap."

"No," I protested. If I went to sleep now, only Satan knew at what ungodly hour I would wake up.

"Yes, Princess," Bruce smirked. I wiggled uncomfortably - when he went all caretaker like, my ovaries wreaked havoc on my body and brain. My thoughts weren't appropriate if Bruce wanted me to see him as a father figure. The signals he was sending were mixed. People around me did that a lot and I wasn't sure how to act so I usually just went with the flow. I decided to do the very same thing in that particular moment.

Curiosity sparked within me, tightly interwoven with the deep longing that settled below my collarbones whenever Tony or one of the others wasn't sitting next to me or talking my ear off. I've almost forgotten how it was to be alone with my thoughts. The maze of my very own self was becoming unfamiliar territory. Alarming.

I allowed Bruce to help me shed my shoes and outer layer of clothing, shivering in the coolness of my room. Despite being a frequent visitor, I still had a 'guest' room in the tower - I mostly stayed at Tony's or Wanda's anyways. During our sleepovers neither me nor the witch minded sharing her enormous bed, to be fair, we could have fit at least two more people in it besides us. Tony took care of his own - all the tower's residents had their apartments furnished with the best stuff.

"Sleep now, Princess," Bruce chastised, tucking a blanket around me, having noticed an earbud in my ear and my smartphone in my hand. I had hoped to kill some time online, damn well knowing sleep wouldn't come easy.

"I don't think I can fall asleep, Bruce," I admitted, looking away. There was just so much going on. My brain wouldn't shut up and if I couldn't drown out the cacophony by being productive, I'd troll the internet, as usual.

Banner sighed, coming to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. Gently running his fingers through my hair, brushing the outside of his palm against my cheek. "How do you usually deal with this?"

Involuntarily, my eyelashes fluttered. "Tony does most of the work," I admitted coyly. The engineer had a whole arsenal of tricks up his sleeve - sexy and exhausting tricks.

"I see," Bruce muttered, thoughtfully.

I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a look I haven't seen before. The usual mildly absent, slightly anxious face he wore was replaced by something I could only describe as hurt envy, like a kid looking at their schoolmate who had all the newest, coolest toys. I used to be on the receiving end of that look far too often and I hated it.

I hid my face against his leg, rubbing my cheek on the raspy corduroy fabric of his pants. "Got any good ideas of your own?" I wondered lowly, thinking about what in the world possessed Bruce to wear corduroy trousers on a semi-casual day, in the twenty-first century.

"Only bad ideas," He replied in a matching low tone. His soft fingertips relocated to my nape, goosebumps rising down my back.

"Humour me," I grinned against his leg.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, the sound of his thinking screaming louder than any words could have done. Knowing the scientist so closely, I found out he was full of surprises - bolder than he appeared outwardly and competitive to a boot. He thought he had a lot to prove to himself and by extension, to others. The unknown, the mystery dangling in front of my nose was exhilarating, trepidation addictive. It took me away from the chaos in my mind.

A gentle grasp on my chin had me turning to look upwards, Bruce's face flushed and focused on my own, open and trusting. He needed to see the obvious, that I trusted him to take care of me. He pulled and I followed, sitting up on my elbows, coming up to his shoulder level, our faces inches apart, enveloped in the unique, intense scent of his herbal tea. It was a tart, strong smell and it suited his quiet but passionate character.

Once, twice, I caught my eyes sliding to his plump lips. They looked far too appealing in this position. I usually strategically stayed away from positions so compromising, fearing the very thing that I'd already let happen, however this time the atmosphere was different. We stood on ambiguous grounds, waiting for Bruce to make a decision.

The man wasn't stupid, he saw the way I looked at him. The nightmares and inability to take a break from life put a significant dent in my resolve to keep a distance between us, romantically - I could have settled even for a pity kiss, a pity fuck. Anything to put my brain on pause.

His lips were softer than I had imagined. Skilled, too, he easily steered the kiss into the shallow waters of our combined longing.

With Tony, it was like an avalanche. Tony ran hot like Peterbilt engines, hard and fast, almost angry in his race for satisfaction. Tony was a man that was used to getting whatever he wanted and it became plainly obvious when we fucked.

Bruce was the opposite. He savoured the kiss, losing himself in a way that could almost be described as delicate. Bruce was humming, softly, as we tasted each other, holding the left side of my face with careful fingertips. Almost as if he was afraid to break me. The feel of his skin on mine was soothing in a way that made me sigh and relax even further.

"Wanna make you feel good." His voice had dropped, gone husky, but his breathing held even. He must know all about self-control.

"Yeah," I was ready to agree with whatever the fuck he was offering. My eyelids remained shut.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

PS. Letsby, please don't combust. The underwear is coming off in the next chapter. 😶

#bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner fluff #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #party favours #bun writes

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Never Really Over

(a Gabriel O’Malley x Reader Insert Multi-Chapter Fic, Rated M)

Chapter Four

You carefully open the door to your Zayde’s house, balancing a tray of roasted vegetables in your arms. Toeing off your shoes, you head towards the kitchen, calling out your hellos. You’re practically vibrating with excitement, you have big news to tell them.

“Bubbeleh hello! Let me take that.” Your Bubbe says, kissing your cheek and taking your dish from you. Ever since you were a little girl, Saturday nights were for dinner at your Bubbe’s house with everyone. Even after you moved out of your parent’s house, you still came like clockwork every week.

“So how’s work?” She asks, checking on the brisket. It smells amazing and your stomach rumbles in response. Maybe it’s unfair; but you didn’t get your grandma’s, or your mother’s, gift for cooking. No, that had passed over to your sister. You certainly got their appetite though.

“Work’s good, nothing too crazy but I have super exciting news. Where’s mom?” You say, searching through the drawers for a corkscrew. You’ve worked at the bank for almost three years now, and you enjoy being a teller. It’s not the most glamorous job, or the most challenging, but it keeps you busy and you get to work with your uncle and cousin. If the bank also happens to help launder money and hide suspicious checks, well, that’s just a coincidence. At your sound of triumph, both your mother and Mrs. Petrillo enter the kitchen.

“What exciting news?” Your mom asks, grabbing wine glasses for everyone. You give each woman a hug, complimenting Mrs. P on her perm.

You help the women bring the food out to the dining room, talking as you go. There’s a lot more food than normal which makes sense when you see the Godfather and his wife sitting at the table next to your father and Zayde. Despite it being Zayde’s house, the Don sits at the head of the table. He always sits at the head of the table. More people are coming in through the door yelling hellos and giving kisses.

“Well today was a pretty quiet day, no big deposits or anything and then the craziest thing happened. Who should walk up to my window but Al Pacino! Al Pacino!! Can you believe it? He needed change to get lunch at the deli next door. He was super nice too, and we just started talking because the bank was basically empty.” You gush as you place drinks on the table.

“Oh I just love him, he’s so handsome.” Mrs. Petrillo adds as more people come to the table.

“Yeah, but he’s so short.” Tony pipes up, opening a beer. You shoot him a glare; he’s 5’6 so he has no room to talk.

“He’s not that short, he’s taller than you! And even so, who cares? I’m shorter than him and he’s a talented actor.” You shoot back as Gabriel joins him at the table. You don’t acknowledge him even though he says hello. Ever since the incident at the beach, you’ve been avoiding Gabe. It doesn’t help that your dreams for the past week have been of him and only him, replaying the way your bodies moved together in your Cadillac. You grip your wine glass tightly and push those feelings down.

“So what happened next? What did you talk about?” Your Bubbe asks you as everyone sits down to eat. Even though it’s your family’s house, no one starts to eat until the Godfather does, then the sound of scraping silverware and clinking glasses fills the air.

“Well we were just talking about nothing really. Chatting about movies that were coming out and the like when he asked me out to dinner. Can you believe it? Al Pacino, the actor, asked me out on a date! We’re going to Dan Tana’s! Like how fancy, right?” You continue, taking a sip of wine. Everyone around you oohs and awws appropriately and you beam.

“I like that,” The Godfather says, wiping at his mouth, “he’s a nice Italian boy. He makes good money.” Zayde shrugs and eats another piece of brisket.

“Eh, let’s see what happens. One date doesn’t equal marriage. Just because he played a gangster doesn’t mean he’d be good for our little shaina maideleh.” He says, pointing his fork at you and moving it around in a playful way.

“Don’t worry Zayde, it’s just one date. Hopefully it’ll become more, he’s so handsome in person, but this is just a date.” You reassure him and the conversations around you continue and shift as people eat.

Ben and Lisa are back from their honeymoon, apparently she got beautiful color in Miami. Your sister is in the process of moving out of your parent’s house so she’s stressed about it. Thankfully she has a roommate to split costs with but you feel bad that she’s going through a rough patch. Moving out is never easy, both in the physical and emotional sense. Mrs. Petrillo brings up her perm. All in all, it’s a very normal dinner.

Everyone has just about finished dinner, you’re pleased to see your roasted vegetables are gone, when Gabriel suddenly speaks. He spoke very little during dinner, polite as always, but quiet.

“You can’t go out with him!” He tells you, his beer bottle thudding down on the table. There’s an awkward silence as everyone tries to figure out what he’s referring to. When you realize he’s talking about your date, you purse your lips.

“Says who? We’re both adults and he asked me out.” You reply breezily, eyes narrowing. Gabriel flushes a little when he realizes everyone is watching you but he carries on.

“He’s so much older than you. Like that’s a little weird right? He’s famous, like he could have anybody! Why’s he asking out a bank teller? What if he’s using you for a good time?” Gabe rushes out looking almost panicked. It’s actually a little unsettling, you’ve never seen him like this before. But his insult stings and your father glares at him from across the table. Still, no one speaks up for you. They know you’re capable of handling this yourself.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? What, just because I’m not Jane Fonda, suddenly I’m not good enough for a Hollywood actor? Screw you, I’m wonderful! He thought I was nice and pretty and he asked me out! His age has nothing to do with and he’s not that much older than me. You have no say over whether or not I go out with anybody. It’s just a date and I’m going to go on it.”

“I’m just saying, it seems a little weird. I don’t want to see you get hurt but some Hollywood asshole.” Gabe mumbles out, looking embarrassed.

“Oh bullshit! You’re just upset because you realized I’m not waiting around for you. You left me and just because you’ve come back with your tail between your legs doesn’t mean I’m going to open mine.” The again goes unspoken. “You don’t own me Gabe, I can do whatever I want!” You scoff, pushing away from the table. Before you leave the dining room, you lean across the wood table into his face.

“I’m going to fuck Al Pacino and there’s nothing you can do about it.” With that, you leave the room, absolutely furious.

“Oh patatino, that was not the right thing to do.” Mrs. Petrillo sighs out. Zayde shakes his head and Gabriel just lays his head on the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s been parked outside the restaurant for 20 minutes, just chain smoking and watching people enter and leave the little Italian restaurant. He saw you walk in with Pacino, arms linked together. Pacino looked good and you looked beautiful. He wondered if you still wore the same perfume you used to for date nights. You weren’t wearing it at the wedding and Gabe wondered if you stopped wearing it all together. He liked the scent.

Gabe rubs at his eyes and sighs. What the fuck is he doing? He’s waiting outside the restaurant like a creep and a loser. He doesn’t think anything bad is going to happen to you, but some pathetic little part of him wants to be there in case Pacino is a jerk. Gabe wants to rush into the restaurant and sweep you into his arms and save the day. It’s really mean and selfish, but he’s been trying to come up with a reason to break up your date this whole time. He could rush in, say that he saw you being followed and take you home to hide. He could say that your Bubbe needed you for some kind of cooking emergency. Gabe snorts and flicks some ash off his cigarette. That one probably wouldn’t work considering how shit you were at cooking. It was one of the many things he loved about you.

He looks back at the door, laughter pouring out as a couple opens the door. It makes his insides twist with jealousy. He imagines you’re snuggled into a booth with Pacino, drinking wine and talking. It’s fairly ridiculous but he can’t help but picture the two of you sharing spaghetti like in Lady and the Tramp. He knows he has no claim over you, he knows he’s the one who messed up. But the additional image of him striding in there and punching the actor in the face makes him feel too good. Which kind of stinks, because he likes Pacino. He liked him in that bank heist movie.

He’s contemplating just starting the car and going back to Mrs. Petrillo’s house when someone knocks on his window. He rolls it down to reveal Benjamin, your cousin back from his honeymoon. The smile Gabe was sporting at him quickly slides away when he sees the pale color of Ben’s face.

“Ben? What happened? Are you okay?” He asks, opening his door and stepping out of the car. Ben sets his mouth in a grim line.

“We knew (Y/N) was on a date but we couldn’t find you and then Tony mentioned that you were stalking her date like an asshole so I came to find you,” Ben coughs out, like he’s been running, like he’s out of breath, “It’s Zayde.”

Gabe grabs Ben by the shoulders like a lifeline. So many horrible things flash into his brain.

“What happened? Is he okay? I know those Chinese gangs have been getting bigger, did they…” He sputters out as Ben shakes his head.

“It’s not that. He had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital. He’s okay for right now, but it might not stay that way. It took awhile to get him stable. You should relax and head over, I’ll get (Y/N).” Ben explains and Gabe doesn’t relax, he can’t relax, but he does let go off his friend’s shoulders.

“No, let me do it. She’s going to get mad and upset and I’d rather her feel that way towards me than you. You go, we’ll meet you there. Thanks for finding me Ben.” Gabe says resolutely, shaking his head. Ben nods and walks back to his car, lurching away from the sidewalk and speeding away. Gabe sighs again and heads towards the restaurant.

He opens the door, smoke and music and small talk pounding in his ear drums. It’s a nice place, dark and intimate with brick walls and cozy booths. Maybe in a different life where he didn’t screw up, he could’ve taken you here. A pretty blonde at the maitre’d station asks him if he has a reservation but he shakes his head, walking past without a glance. She calls after him but the only thing he hears is his heartbeat.

He sees you before you see him and you look so beautiful. Shit, he feels like a schmuck bothering you like this. Your head is thrown back in a laugh and your cheeks have turned light pink from the wine on the table. Waiters brush his shoulders carrying steaming plates of pasta and veal and he hates what he’s about to do. Then you see him as he approaches the table and it’s like every good thought inside you disappears. First you’re shocked, mouth open in a little ‘O’ shape, then it morphs into anger. Which, considering what he’s done, is fair.

“Gabe! What the fuck are you doing here? I can’t believe you would show your face… what’s wrong?” You start, foaming at the mouth. But then you see the tremor in his hands and the expression on his face and you stop.

He opens his mouth and closes it, unable to ruin your night. Even Pacino looks concerned. You get up and grab his shoulders like he did to Ben. You shake Gabe and the words come.

“It’s Zayde. He’s in the hospital. He had a heart attack. He wants to see you.” He forces out and the lovely pink flush you had instantly vanishes. Your hands squeeze painfully at his shoulders and he wonders if you even realize you’ve done it.

You nod and grab your bag, opening it and throwing down some bills. Pacino gets up, probably to go with you, but you shake your head. Gabe steps back and decides to wait by the door. He feels like the worst human being on the planet. There he was, sitting in his car, wishing he had a reason to end your date. Now that he has it, he wishes that the earth would open up and swallow him instead.

You meet him at the front door, looking pained but you’re not crying or anything. He opens his mouth to ask about Pacino but you shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out the door towards his car. You don’t say a word as he starts the car and takes you to the hospital. You don’t say anything as he weaves through traffic, going faster than the speed limit. At least you weren’t stopped by cops or anything, though Gabe was prepared to point his gun right in their face if any tried.

He wants to tell you how amazing you look, the neon signs bouncing off your skin and settling in the hollow between your breasts. It’s not the right time though, your face is tight and your hands are bunched up in your lap.

It was a nice hospital and they let you in with no problem. There were guys at the door of Zayde’s room and that calms the both of you down. Most people wouldn’t go after a consigliere, but being alone in a hospital was still risky.

It’s quiet in the room, nothing but the sound of steady beeping and light breathing. Bubbe is in the room, as well as your dad, but your eyes go straight to the hospital bed where Zayde lays. You track him and Gabe tracks you. Your grandpa’s awake and breathing steady but the amount of wires and tubes going around him and inside him is unsettling.

“There’s my shaina.” Zayde says hoarsely and that’s when Gabe sees you cry. You rush over to the bed and fling your arms around your grandfather. Bubbe starts up to stop you, afraid for the wires maybe, but your father stops her. Zayde gives a weak chuckle and pets your head, making shushing sounds.

“Oh Zayde, what happened? How are you feeling? I was so scared in the car. I came as soon as I could. Zayde, I’m so glad you’re okay!” You cry, practically getting onto the bed. He wipes away your tears and shakes his head.

“Relax shaina, I’m alright. I’m old and I had a heart attack. Too many pieces of pie and not enough running after you. The doctors say that as long as I’m careful about what I eat, I should be fine. I know you were scared, but I’m okay now. They just want to keep me overnight.” He says and you nod slowly. Gabe lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Sure, Zayde wasn’t related to him, but he loved the crazy old man. He would’ve been devastated if he lost him. But you, Gabe didn’t even want to think about how you’d react. He was glad he got to avoid it now.

Zayde looks up and sees him, standing awkwardly in the corner. He looks confused and then he swivels his head back to you.

“Did you leave your date? You didn’t have to do that. I thought I was gonna meet Pacino!” He says, in what would be a pout in a less scary man. 

“I did but it’s okay. I wanted to see you. I’ll call Al later and explain everything. You should focus on getting better.” You kiss his cheek and Gabe smiles at the little tableau in front of him. You get off the bed and go over to your dad and Bubbe, speaking quietly. Zayde turns his gaze to Gabriel and he swallows dryly.

“I’d like to talk to Gabriel alone. Everyone out.” He says, eyes only on Gabe. Everyone grumbles a bit, but with a wave of Zayde’s hand, they all leave. Approaching his consigliere’s bedside, Gabe gives a tight smile. A hand extends to him and he takes it gladly.

“Thank you for bringing her here. I appreciate it. You’re a good boy Gabey. I’ve always thought that. Take care of her.” Zayde whispers, forcing Gabe to lean in a little.

“I will Zayde, you know how I feel about her.” There’s nothing more to say. The older man nods and pats Gabe’s hand before turning back to his family.

“Alright, so tell me everything about this date? How was the veal?” He booms out, face bright and open.

You give a watery chuckle quickly launch into a story about your date and Gabe decides to leave and give you privacy. He doesn’t want to hear about how amazing Pacino is, not when his heart practically broke seeing you cry. He’s already intruded enough in your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour later, your grandpa is sleeping peacefully and your dad has gone home. There’s a payphone in the hallway and you call Al, letting him know what’s going on. He’s surprisingly sweet about it and you make plans to see each other in a few days. He’s a nice guy, but not the one you want to be with right now. You find Gabe outside, sitting on the floor next to a vending machine. He’s not smoking but you can tell he wants to. The hospital lights wash him out but you still think he looks handsome. Grabbing your skirt, you sit down next to him.

“Thanks for bringing me here. Thanks for letting me know.” You whisper, when the silence between you gets too heavy. Gabe shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t have though; I shoulda just left you to your date. You looked like you were having a really good time. I ruined your night out.” He admits with a grimace. You rest your head on his shoulder. He’s bony but you don’t mind. You never did.

“No, I’m glad you did. I would’ve hated to not know. What if something happened and Zayde got worse? I woulda been drunk with Pacino while my grandpa was… well it doesn’t matter because he’s fine. But I’m glad you told me.” You say, feeling a strange mix of emotions welling up inside your chest. You’re relieved that Zayde is okay, but you were so scared and some of that fear is still in you, skating up your spine and to the tips of your fingers. You also can’t help but be annoyed because you were having a really nice time on your date and now you didn’t know if you’d have another chance. Then you feel unbelievably shitty and guilty for thinking that when your grandpa was in the hospital.

“There'll be other chances to go out with Al Pacino.” You admit with finality. Gabe shrugs his shoulders under your head.

“He’d be an asshole to say no to you. You’re amazing (Y/N). Fuck, you’re the best girl around. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Trust me, I know.” There’s a note of bitterness and resignation in his voice and you lift your head. He’s been crying too, his eyes red.

Your hand comes up to pet lightly at his cheek and you give a small smile. Leaning forward you kiss him softly. It feels like opening the door to a warm apartment on a cold winter’s day. It feels like the first ray of sun after a week of pouring rain. It feels like coming home. The kiss is simple and short but it was the first time you’d done that since Gabe left. All of your fear and sadness leaves you in those brief moments and the anger you had at Gabe, the hurt over his leaving faded away like fog. Things weren’t back to the way they were, but life was so short. The thought was cliche, you knew this, but you also wanted him more than you wanted pride. Maybe it was pathetic and stupid but you still loved Gabriel and you had never stopped. It was clear you needed him but also, he needed you. Pulling away, you bite your lip. He looks like he was just hit over the head and you giggle a little at how ridiculous your life is, before getting up.

“Take me home?” You ask, holding out your hand for him to take and he nods, brushing off his slacks and walking out of the hospital, hand in hand with you. You imagine a little gold ball of light and warmth growing in between your palms and spreading up your arms to fill you with happiness. You glance at Gabe under the dark night sky, streetlights bouncing off his hair. He smiles and you think he feels it too.

The Final Chapter Coming Soon...

Tagging: @babbushka​, @theold-ultraviolence​, @stylelovechild​, @niniita-ah, @distinguishedsaladoperawinner​ and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

#never really over #gabriel o'malley x reader #gabriel o'malley #my writing #reader insert fanfiction #self insert fanfiction #the kitchen #the kitchen movie #fanfiction #not beta'd

[cheryl-in-a-barrel]

Drive safely (choni one shot)

Based on this prompt list, using the prompt, “Drive safely.” 

Sweet Pea places a hand down on top Toni’s rapidly bouncing leg from where he sits beside the shaking girl. His eyes hadn’t even been open, they still aren’t. He’s leaned back in the cheap hospital waiting room chair, the back of his head pressed against the wall behind him, and his gigantic legs stretched out on the floor in front of him.

Toni is in a much different position. She’s in an identical chair, however, her body is scrunched forward, legs close to her body as she bounces them in anxiety. Her lip is bleeding from how much she’s been chewing on it the past hour, and her face is much paler than her normal colouring.

As soon as Sweet Pea’s hand makes contact with her thigh, her own shaky, much smaller hand clings to it. Threading her fingers in-between his, and squeezing tight as if she’s terrified of what will happen if she lets go.

Sweet Pea says nothing, does nothing, nothing but squeeze his friend’s hand back just as tight. There was nothing left for him to do, and he knows this. He’s here to support Toni, pushing down his own fears and anxiety that’s bubbling in his chest, in order to be a strong front for the other girl to lean on.

Fangs comes shuffling in, taking a stand next to the pair, a plastic cup of water in his hand. “Here, Toni, you should drink something,” he speaks softly, leaning down to the distressed girl.

Sweet Pea opens his eyes, looking between his two friends with a solemn expression. When it doesn’t look like Toni is making any attempts to accept the water, Sweet Pea just slowly shakes his head to Fangs.

He sighs, and moves to take the seat on the other side of the shaking girl, bringing the cup up to his own lips instead.

“She’s going to be okay,” Sweet Pea says, and the words solicit Toni to meet his eyes for the first time since they got there.

“You can’t know that for sure,” is her response.

Toni’s face is a complete mess of ruined makeup and tears as she stares up at Sweet Pea with an almost desperate plea in her eyes. As if she’s begging him to be able to tell her that he does know for sure, begging him to have all the answers she needs. But he doesn’t. Toni’s right, Sweet Pea can’t know for sure. He knows Cheryl Blossom is one badass chick, but he doesn’t know if that’s enough to save her life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers instead, a tear of his own escaping down his cheek, as he watches his best friend break apart.

“She’s strong as hell,” Fangs comments, and Toni turns around to face him. “We don’t know if she’s going to be okay, but if I had to bet on anyone making it through this, it’d be her every time.”

Toni starts crying even harder at the words, moving forward and wrapping her arms around Fangs for a hug, soaking his plaid shirt with her tears in the process. He doesn’t mind though, he simply holds his friend close, trying not to let his heart break at the tragic sobs that wreck Toni’s body.

Cheryl has been in surgery for an hour now, and with each minute that passes, Toni becomes more and more consumed by the impulsive, dark thoughts in her brain telling her the girl she loves is dead.

Yes, the girl she loves. She hasn’t even gotten the chance to tell Cheryl that yet, and now she might never get to.

Sweet Pea had told her that Cheryl already knows, even if she hasn’t heard the actual words yet. Toni finds ways to say I love you without actually having to say it. It’s silly, because she knows she should just come out and tell the truth, she knows Cheryl feels the same way. But something always stops her from choking the confession out, so she finds other ways to ensure her girlfriend knows just how much she loves her.

Tonight, before absolute hell broke loose, Toni had done just that.

“My shifts over,” Toni speaks into the phone as soon as Cheryl’s voice came through the speaker with a cheerful greeting.

She holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder, while she digs around her bag for the key to the trailer her and Sweet Pea share.

“About time,” Cheryl teases.

Toni finds the key and shoves it into the lock, jiggling it for good measure, before responding, “You were welcome to come hang out at the Wyrm, you know?”

“As much as I love your little greaser bar, TT, I think I’ve had one too many nights sat next to drunken men with all too curious eyes, for the week”

The serpent girl smirks as she enters her trailer and throws her bag down on the couch. “Just give me the names,” she says, “and I’ll destroy them all for looking at you.”

Cheryl snorts, “How chivalrous.”

“I’ll always be your knight in shining leather,” Toni walks into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a bowl sitting on the counter. She hadn’t eaten since before her shift, and knew Sweet Pea wouldn’t mind some missing fruit.

“You better,” Cheryl hums, and then Toni hears some sort of shuffling on the other side, “Can I come over now?” the redheaded girl asks.

“You sure you don’t want to me to come to you?” Toni questions, “It’s kind of a mess around here,” she takes a glance around the dishevelled trailer with a small grimace.

“I don’t mind,” Cheryl promises, “Besides, If I’m being honest, I’m sick of being at Thistlehouse right now, only took 17 years, but this stupid house is finally starting to give me the creeps.”

Toni can sense the deeper emotion hidden behind Cheryl’s causal wording. A frequent tactic implemented by the redhead. She still wasn’t the best at communicating her feelings, but she had improved tremendously since Toni met her.

The serpent didn’t want to divulge into the reasoning for her girlfriend’s sudden apprehension for the house she’s previously defended to Toni on numerous occasions, over the phone. Instead, she made sure to take note of the information, and decided she could try to talk to her about it later, once they were together.

In the meantime, she just chuckles and replies, “That’s because you practically live in a haunted house attraction, Cher.”

“Hey, it once held a certain charm, believe it or not.”

“I’m sure it did,” Toni rolls her eyes, knowing the other girl can’t see her.

“So,” Cheryl clears her throat, “I can come over?”

“Of course,” Toni tells her. “Sweet Pea was still at the Wyrm when I left so we should have some time alone together.”

“Perfect,” Toni can hear her smile over the phone, “I have to admit that giant is actually quite entertaining, but he’s also much too loud.”

Toni laughs. “I’ll agree as long as you promise to never tell him I did.”

“Your secret is safe with me, TT,” the sound of a door opening and closing is then heard.

“You leaving already?” Toni asks.

Cheryl takes a second to respond, “I may have been ready and waiting for the past hour.”

Toni’s more endeared by the response than she’d ever admit out loud. She doesn’t know how she got so lucky with Cheryl Blossom. The girl is too good to be true sometimes.

“Someone’s eager,” she grins.

“Don’t tease,” Cheryl scolds, and Toni swears she can see the little pout on her girlfriend’s lips even though she’s miles away from her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she speaks, “Get over here, and I’ll make it up to you.”

Cheryl seems to like the sound of that. “Already in my car.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon,” Toni wants to say something else. The confession sitting on her tongue, begging her to make sure Cheryl knows. But she can’t. The first time she tells Cheryl she loves her isn’t going to be over the phone.

“Cher?” Toni asks quietly before they hang up.

“Yes, TT?”

“Drive safely,” she says in place of I love you.

“Always.”

Cheryl did drive safely. Turns out, some drunk asshole driving down the opposite lane from her, did not.

Toni gets a call a mere 25 minutes after she gets off the phone with Cheryl. She’s expecting it to be her again, perhaps with a reason for her hold up considering it only takes her 15 minutes to get to Sunnyside Trailer park.

She definitely gets her reason, but it wasn’t Cheryl on the other line.

After Toni gets the call, she’s in a state of shock.

She calls Sweet Pea, but honestly she can’t even remembering dialling his number. All she knows is one minute she’s being told her girlfriend’s in critical condition, the next minute she’s in the back of Sweet Pea’s truck, and now, she’s here in the Riverdale hospital waiting room.

It hurts. Everything hurts. Her lungs feel like they’re on fire, every time she tries to breathe, knowing that Cheryl may have taken her last breaths tonight.

She can’t stop thinking about Cheryl dying. Toni didn’t even know that was her biggest fear until tonight. If someone asked her what she was most afraid of a couple days ago, maybe she’d say something about following in her parents footsteps and ending up in jail, or maybe being stuck working a lousy bartending job in this small town for the rest of her life, or hell, she’s always been kind of uneasy around clowns. She thought she knew her biggest fears, but she’s living her worst nightmare right now, and nothing could ever come close to this amount of pain.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything about your friends condition,” a sympathetic sounding nurse says to Sweet Pea who has found his way to the reception desk for what might be the fourth time that night.

“Okay,” he nods, wringing his hands under the counter to hide his impending nervousness.

Fangs shoots him a look from over Toni’s shoulder, and he shakes his head. No news.

Sweet Pea looks around the empty waiting room save for him and his two friends, and wonder if they should be calling anyone else.

He hadn’t even told Jughead where they were going when he and Fangs rushed out of the Wyrm after receiving Toni’s call. Cheryl’s other friends, Betty, Veronica, Josie, even Archie, they all had no idea anything had even happened to her. Sweet Pea didn’t know if calling a good percentage of Riverdale’s youth over here was the best idea right now though. It’s not like they knew anything yet anyway, and Toni doesn’t seem to be in the appropriate state of mind to handle more people. They’d all be fawning over her at a time like this, bless Veronica and Betty’s hearts, but they were extremely prone to prying, and Toni didn’t need that. Sweet Pea decided he’d call them the minute the they heard anything, and for now, the three serpents could just wait in silence.

It took half an hour longer.

With Toni growing progressively worse in that time, as she seemed to equate the passing minutes to the likeliness of Cheryl’s death.

It was during a particularly rough breakdown in Sweet Pea’s arms this time, when a doctor, looking a little worse for wear himself, came through the swinging doors.

“You three here for Cheryl Blossom?” he questions, easily spotting them out in the sparse room.

They all but sprint towards him. Toni is immediately front and centre, despite the fact that she’s beyond a mess at this point.

“Is she alive?” she frantically asks, her heartbeat jumping out of her chest. The blood is so loud in her ears, she’s afraid she won’t even hear the doctor’s response.

“She’s stable,” he confirms.

Toni feels air enter her lungs without the sting of fire for the first time since she got the call.

“Will she be okay?” Fangs questions quietly, rubbing his hand along Toni’s back in comfort.

“Ms. Blossom will recover. She lost a lot of blood, the drivers side door came in and crushed her left side, leaving a pretty bad wound. She also broke her arm on that side, and she broke multiple ribs as well. She suffered a small concussion, but it doesn’t appear too serious or to have any long lasting effects, all in all, Cheryl’s a very lucky girl right now.” he finishes, a small but tired smile on his face.

Toni doesn’t know how to feel. She’s relieved that Cheryl’s going to be okay, but hearing everything she went through still breaks her heart. She didn’t deserve this. Cheryl’s been hurt over and over again her entire life, and she didn’t fucking deserve this. It wasn’t fair.

“Can we see her?” Toni asks with a small crack in her voice, there are still a few tears rolling down her cheeks, but she’s managed to get her crying somewhat under control.

The doctor shares a look between the hopeful and worried teenagers in front of him. “You can,” he tells her, “But just one at a time, okay? You don’t want to overwhelm her right now. She may be a little dazed from the medication as well as her concussion.”

She’s given a room number, and that’s all it takes before she’s rushing off to Cheryl’s room. Sweet Pea and Fangs promise to wait outside, and Sweet Pea mentions he’s going to make a couple of calls.

Toni only partly processes what they say, if she’s being honest. She’s way to focused on getting to Cheryl to concentrate on a single other thing.

Once she’s standing in front of Cheryl’s door, she takes a deep breath before turning the handle.

Oh god. If she thought her heart was broken before.

Toni has to cover her mouth with her hand as she feels herself begin to sob again. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but seeing Cheryl so broken and weak, lying in a hospital bed that her skinny frame sinks right into, was more than she was prepared for.

“Cher…” she whispers brokenly.

The redheaded girl has her eyes closed. Toni moves closer, coming to stand directly beside her, choosing her right side instead of her significantly more battered left. With a shaky sigh, Toni grasps her hand, holding it tight and letting her thumb run over the smooth skin.

“I’ve got you,” she says, kissing Cheryl’s palm before gently bringing it back down to the bed.

“I’m so sorry this happened, but I’ve got you now, and I’m not going to let something like this happen to you ever again,” she promises through her tears.

She falls to her knees, pressing her forehead down on their conjoined hands as she cries. Toni’s sure she’s cried enough for the whole year in this one night. She’s beginning to get a headache, and her throat is awfully dry, but none of that matters to her.

“T—Toni?” A weak voice pipes up, and Toni quickly lifts her head just as Cheryl’s eyes flutter open.

“Hey, you,” she replies with a watery smile.

Toni stands and puts her other hand on Cheryl’s cheek. “You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Cheryl dreamily sighs, blinking her eyes a few times.

“How are you feeling?” Toni asks.

“Really good,” Cheryl smiles, “Everything’s all tingly.”

Toni can’t help but chuckle softly. “Yeah, they’ve got you on the good stuff all right.”

Cheryl doesn’t reply for a moment, her smile turning to a frown once she takes a better look at Toni’s face.

“Why are you so sad?” she wonders aloud, attempting to sit up only to have Toni quickly push her back down.

“Take it easy, Cher,” Toni frets, holding the girl at her shoulders now so she wouldn’t get up. “Baby, you were in a car accident, you’re at the hospital right now,” she explains, as Cheryl’s clearly too out of it to hold much awareness of her surroundings.

“Oh,” she pouts. “I was going to offer to beat up whoever made you so sad, but I guess that would mean I’d have to beat myself up.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Toni pointedly tells her, “You, my princess, are too high to even remember your own name,”

Cheryl just pouts some more, and Toni leans down to kiss the girl’s temple. “Again,” Cheryl requests with innocent doe eyes once Toni pulls away.

Toni laughs, but happily complies. Coming back down to kiss Cheryl’s forehead, both her cheeks, her nose, and finally her lips.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Toni breathes. “Thinking I lost you, was the scariest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“I’m here,” Cheryl whispers.

She then starts shuffling over a little, making more room on the side closest to Toni.

“Cher, be careful!” Toni reaches out immediately, helping the girl gently move over and putting a stop to her fast paced movements.

“Cuddle with me,” Cheryl states, more so than asks, looking up at Toni expectantly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Toni says, her bottom lip between her teeth worriedly.

“You won’t,” Cheryl tell her, “not unless you tell me you don’t want to cuddle with me.”

Toni shakes her head at the girl’s antics. “Fine, but the minute you look like you’re in pain I’m getting up.”

“Deal.”

Toni slides into the bed incredibly slowly, dreadfully careful not to discomfort Cheryl in any way.

“How’s this?” Toni asks once she’s laying down.

Cheryl moves to rest her head on Toni’s chest, moving her body, and specifically her left side, as little as possible.

“Better,” Cheryl breathes.

Toni kisses the top of her head.

They lay silently for a few minutes, the only sound is the consistent beep of a heart rate monitor, and the gentle rise and fall of both their chests.

Toni breaks the silence with a smile, a thought popping into her head as she stares at the cast on Cheryl’s arm. “Sweet Pea’s going to write something dumb on your cast.”

“No, I forbid him,” Cheryl nuzzles a little deeper into Toni.

“Then Fangs will,” Toni suggests.

“I forbid them both, and you’ll be next if you even think about it,” she threatens.

“I would never, serpent’s honour,” Toni promises, and Cheryl agrees with a little hum, too out of it to remember that serpent’s honour isn’t a real thing.

The room goes quiet again. Toni can tell Cheryl is getting sleepy in her arms, and she’s quite exhausted herself after the night she’d had.

As tired as both girls are, and as high as Cheryl may be, Toni knows she can’t let another minute go by without telling Cheryl something she should have told her a long time ago.

Because the only thing she could possibly ever fear more than losing Cheryl, was losing her before she told her she loves her.

That ends now.

“Hey, Cher, I have to tell you something.”

Cheryl lightly grips one of Toni’s hands that had been resting near her stomach. She fidgets with a couple of the serpent girl’s fingers before quietly asking, “What is it?”

“I love you,” she lets the words she’s been dying to say finally slip out her mouth. Toni doesn’t even know if Cheryl will remember this, but it doesn’t matter, because starting now, Toni’s going to make sure she tells Cheryl she loves her every single day, so she won’t ever forget.

She’s not even expecting a response, figuring Cheryl may want to be in a clearer mindset before addressing Toni’s confession. She didn’t need a response now, she just needed Cheryl to know.

That doesn’t mean she’s not a little excited when the redheaded girl does in fact repeat the words back to her.

Cheryl threads her fingers through Toni’s before saying, with the most sincerity she’s had since Toni walked into this room, “I love you too.”

Toni feels complete in that moment.

Yes, her girl has been badly broken once again, and Toni’s heart still aches when she thinks about all the pain Cheryl is going to be in. But she’ll be there to take care of her, every single step of the way. Most importantly she’ll be there to love her. Something Cheryl hasn’t had a whole lot of in her relatively short life, but Toni’s determined to change that.

The girl she loves, loves her back, and it’s an exhilarating feeling.

In the end, Sweet Pea does write something on Cheryl’s cast. He makes some dumb joke in sharpie marker, You should see the other guy.

Cheryl slaps him over the head with her good arm when she sees it. He only laughs before running off in the other direction, before she gets the chance to retaliate any further.

Toni writes something too. It has Sweet Pea and Fangs making fake gagging noises after reading it, and has Cheryl beaming, with adoration practically oozing from her eyes when they skim over the words.

She signs, in small, neat lettering, I love you - TT.

#choni #cheryl blossom #toni topaz #sweet pea #fangs fogarty #riverdale #madelaine petsch #vanessa morgan #madnessa #choni fanfiction #one hundred ways to say i love you

[agentelmo]

The X-Files MSR Analysis Series: Season 1 Episode 7

“Ghost in the Machine”

Previous episode analysis - 1x06 Shadows.

This episode is another that is quite light on the MSR, although there are a few little moments that bring a smile to my shipper face, it’s an episode that both gives as well as takes away in terms of the MSR.  There’s a disappointing moment or two between them, but it’s balanced out by some instances which point to the future depth of their relationship.  

It’s unfortunate that two weeks in a row now we’ve had pretty paltry episodes, BUT I HEAR THE NEXT ONE IS GOOD THOUGH. HUR HUR HUR.

So the first thing we see in this episode is Mulder and Scully buying lunch which is freakin’ weird to see them doing something so normal.  I mean, it makes sense for them to be doing that, but the series gets so fantastical and overwrought with it’s own premise and mythology that the mundane aspects of normal life are often skipped over in later seasons.  Seems season 1 is truly a season that worked to ground the X-Files in some modicum of reality, making it oddly surreal to go back to a time when “Mulder and Scully buy sandwiches for lunch” was an actual scene.

Enter Jerry Lamana, an old FBI buddy of Mulder’s who is seeking him out.  There’s a really sweet moment here, where Jerry goes up to Mulder and just hugs him straight off without any awkwardness and Mulder seems genuinely surprised and happy to see him.

Look at that goofy little smile.  Nawww.  I think Mulder probably forgot what it’s like to have friends at work after leaving the Violent Crimes Section.

I thought this was a lovely little detail, because up until this point, we’ve been led to believe that Mulder is a pariah to most everyone at the FBI.  That since he started work on the X-Files, no one takes him seriously nor do they want him around.  But it wasn’t always that way.  

We know little of his FBI career before the X-Files, other than what we learn in the Pilot, which is that he was once a highly successful criminal profiler with the VCS and rose to prominence very quickly.  This is our first glimpse into what kind of man Mulder was back then, and how others saw him and interacted with him.

Scully, bless her, can’t help but smile at this display of male bonding.  She clearly finds it pleasantly surprising to see Mulder be this friendly with someone.  She’s used to people treating him like a social leper.

Then this peculiar moment happens.

What is that look Mulder gives Scully?  A look of guilt, perhaps?  You can read the words “oh shit” all over his face.  He seems to be genuinely concerned for how she will react; just realising he’s never told Scully he had a partner before her.  

But is that something he should feel guilty for, like it’s some kind of betrayal?  Does he imagine she might think “wait, I’m not your first?!”  After all, Mulder is the only partner Scully has ever had, having become an FBI instructor straight out of the academy.  

It’s highly indicative of how blurred the boundaries are in their working partnership, even at this early stage.  It’s honestly reminiscent of a guy bumping into his ex while being out with his new girlfriend.  Realising oh shit, I never told her about The One Who Came Before™.

On a professional level, Mulder having had a partner before Scully should be insignificant.  Look at Jerry, he seems to think this is a perfectly normal thing to discuss and that it wouldn’t be an issue - and it shouldn’t be!  It’s just the truth.  It’s not a big deal, but for some reason it’s a big deal to Mulder.  And seemingly Scully too because she definitely gives him a look back.

A kind of look that belies an irrational pang of insecurity, maybe?  But only a pang, it’s gone as quickly as it arrives.

It’s utterly fascinating because of it’s inappropriateness.  They’re both feeling something beyond what is appropriate between professionals about the fact Mulder had a partner before Scully.  But as to the why - why does this matter to them?  It’s brushed aside in literally the blink of an eye and will not be revisited until another previous “partner" of Mulder’s arrives on the scene.

Yeah.  

In a way, this brief moment that I have over analysed to within an inch of its life, is a prelude to the drama that accompanies the arrival of Diana Fowley.  With the passing of 5 years and all that goes on between Mulder and Scully in that time, the feelings that are being expressed here intensify to the point they can no longer be ignored by the time we get to season 5′s The End.  

But here and now, in Ghost in the Machine, they are very much ignored.  These feelings are merely sparks of something bigger between them.  There is something deeper going on - undefined - that is beyond the professional, but at this stage in their relationship, neither are prepared to acknowledge it, and in Mulder’s case I still believe he’s not even aware of it, so onwards we go!

The next scene shifts to the basement as Jerry reveals why he was looking for Mulder.  He has a case he wants Mulder’s help with, but Mulder isn’t interested.

There’s a brief moment where you can see some history between Jerry and Mulder in these two lines of dialogue.

Do you get the feeling that this is an old, tired, conversation that they’ve had in the past?  The X-Files appears to be a sore subject between the two of them.  I get the sense that Jerry is still a touch resentful of Mulder for choosing the X-Files over him.  

Sooooo you might ask yourself, why is this relevant to the MSR?  Well it shows to what extent Mulder is willing to burn bridges and sever ties with people in pursuit of his goals.  We see from their friendly greeting that they were once friends, not just partners.  But Mulder was willing to sacrifice that.  

We’ve spent a good couple of episodes thus far examining what Scully is sacrificing by sticking with the X-Files, but this is the first time we ever touch on what Mulder has had to give up.  It’s clear he has sacrificed much for this personal mission of his; as he said in the Pilot - nothing else matters to him.  Jerry was just another casualty.  For Mulder the sacrifice is worth it, if in doing so he can get closer to the elusive Truth™.

However, what he didn’t count on was meeting Scully.  

His ability to discard any and every personal comfort; friendships, a career, a personal life - all of it - is a pretty significant aspect of his character.  But one thing he isn’t prepared to live without is Scully.

It might sound strange to say this so early in their relationship, but how Mulder behaves in Jersey Devil - his impotency without her presence - says to me, that this aspect of their relationship has already begun to manifest for Mulder; almost certainly without him even realising it.  She’s become incredibly important to him already and if he doesn’t realise it now, he will - very soon. 

*cough* Season 2 *cough*

So that’s the MSR significance for me.  His discarded partnership with Jerry serves to highlight the significance of his partnership with Scully.

Sorry Jezza... you’re basically chopped liver.

Something else of note that I thought was quite interesting here, is how Mulder behaves around Jerry compared with how he is around Scully.

With Jerry, Mulder appears to be a sanitised ‘version’ of himself - a personable, polite, encouraging friend - he appears subdued.  I get the sense that Mulder is falling into a familiar rhythm with Jerry where, oddly, Jerry was the more dominant personality of the pair.  

Now I say “oddly” because when Mulder is with Scully, that’s not the role he takes at all.  Mulder seems to have a bit of swagger, a bit of charm that vanishes when Jerry is around.  With Scully the real Mulder comes out - the cocky, deadpan SnarkMaster 5000 we know and love.

Even his tone of voice dramatically changes, it’s worth a rewatch to listen out for it.

But observe when Mulder is with Jerry and shows his characteristic deadpan humour, Jerry doesn’t allow him to have the moment.

Wait, sorry... just a second... The hair wiggle, guys...

I... want to... touch it... just a little... please??

Uhhh... 

Yeah so, Jerry.  He has an ego, an image he wants to maintain - he competes with Mulder, and I think sometimes even unconsciously, like in the moment above.  Whereas Mulder has enough self-confidence and self-esteem that he can fall back when that kind of dominant personality is in the room and not feel emasculated.  It seems Jerry is the opposite.  He is threatened by Mulder - his brilliance, his charm, his sense of humour, probably even his looks.  It’s almost certainly a good thing they went their separate ways because I think Jerry is harbouring a lot of resentment towards Mulder.  Which we indeed see come out later.

Also, going back to this moment just a sec...

I like how Mulder uses his humour to deflect Scully, but she persists and he -  trusting her with the truth of it - relents.  This is such a familiar dynamic between them now that it’s almost cliche.

Ok fast forward again, Mulder and Scully get in the politically correct lift.  

I mean, elevator.   ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

#IDoNotGazeAtScully

How cute is it that they both look away at the same moment.  It’s like a fucking romantic comedy up in here.

But then HAL9000 reminds us it’s the X-Files, and poor Scully hits the deck.

I mean, Mulder would be an asshole not to help her up, but any time he puts his arms around her is a time to rejoice, amirite?

#CasualTouching

The next day, Mulder is in his office looking for the profile notes he had written on the killer.  But he can’t seem to find them, and Scully, never missing the opportunity, gives Mulder a good sassing. 

She so sassy.

Guys, guys... cute!Mulder hath returneth.

Look at him, getting flustered looking for his jacket because he just lost his notes, you can almost see the thoughts in his brain, like... 

“Not my jacket too... what the hell is goin--oh.  There it is.”

The fact that she doesn’t say anything; just lets him have a mini panic haha... I luffs her.

Also the rolled up sleeves... I know I’m not the only one who finds rolled up shirt sleeves hot.  Like, dayum... Mulder knows how to rock the white collar aesthetic.

So despite not finding his notes, they hot step-it to the meeting anyway.  But hey, not to worry - turns out the notes found their way to the meeting without him!

Jerry is presenting “his” profile to the task force, and Mulder realises pretty quickly that it’s actually his own missing profile that Jerry is reading from.  Mulder has an interesting reaction to this - he’s visibly annoyed, but makes no move to stop Jerry - Mulder is loyal to a fault.

What I love about this scene though is that Scully realises it’s Mulder’s profile too and seems ready to fight his corner, and he knows it - which is probably why he lies and says it isn’t.  

How did she know, though?  It’s possible Mulder talked to her about it before the meeting, but I’m a shipper schmuck, so I choose to believe she has become so familiar with his work that she was able to recognise it as his, even when being palmed off by someone else as their own.  Like, when you know an author so well that you can recognise their writing.  I think Scully could recognise Mulder’s profile in a similar fashion..  

Anyway, Mulder then confronts Jerry, but Jerry brushes him off and doesn’t take Mulder’s grievance seriously at all, in fact, I’m fairly certain Jerry knows he can push Mulder around and he knows Mulder won’t react.  

Which is exactly what happens, Jerry doesn’t apologise, acts like Mulder is being an unreasonable dick, and takes off.  Mulder does absolutely nothing about this.

Scully, who clearly did not believe a word of Mulder’s denial - because bae knows her man’s work when she hears it - asks what Jerry said about being a filthy plagiarising snot bucket, but Mulder covers for him - again.

This is what I mean by Jerry being the dominant personality, he seemingly walks all over Mulder and Mulder lets him.  I think that’s probably a little taster of what it was like between them in the past too.

Which inadvertently puts a spotlight on how different Mulder and Scully’s dynamic is.  Mulder is comfortable with Scully for one - he is pretty unfiltered a lot of the time.  He’s just himself.  Snark and all.  

But there is also the intellectual balance that Mulder and Scully share - she is his intellectual equal.  I never really felt that Mulder was more intelligent than Scully; Mulder is simply more open to the extreme possibilities and looks for answers there first.  Scully looks for answers there only when all other explanations have been exhausted.  In a sense, she’s simply more thorough than him.  There are plenty of times when she out smarts him too, but they’re never threatened by each other - they stand on equal footing and respect one another enough that something like what happened between Mulder and Jerry - stealing his work for Chrissakes - is inconceivable between Mulder and Scully.  She’d have more self respect, for one.

Makes you realise how lucky Mulder was to have Scully assigned to him when you see how his abilities can potentially alienate his colleagues, and even his friends.

Last bit about this scene - this made me chuckle, Scully low key slipping Mulder a backhanded compliment.  

The irony of all of this though, is that the behavioural profile is utterly wrong and the killer is the machine but shhh... let’s not dwell on the details.

So Mulder and Scully head off to chat with Brad Wilczek, the guy who created the machine... and Oh my God, my baby agents... look at them!

Ugh... my heart.  They’re so sickeningly cute.

There’s an interesting conversation here with Brad, where he talks about how in the world of computer science there are “scruffy” minds and “neat” minds.  The neat deal with what he describes as “surface phenomena” things they can understand... hmm.  Sounds like someone we know, doesn’t it?

He then describes scruffy minds as puzzle solvers; people who enjoy “walking down unpredictable avenues of thought” to see where they end up.  Another way of describing someone who is open-minded?  

I don’t know if the parallel was intended, but it feels like the implication is that Mulder is a scruffy mind, and Scully is a neat mind.   Also, perhaps a tiny bit of foreshadowing was made to this point with Mulder’s messy desk and Scully’s jab about him never tidying it.

But if these two work so well together; if their scruffiness and neatness compliment one other to maintain some kind of equilibrium, then what might that mean for Brad Wilczek and his machine?  Perhaps that’s another aspect of the MSR that’s being expressed here - that an unchecked scruffy mind can lead to its own self-destruction, and that an unchallenged neat mind can stifle progress.  

Yep, I can find MSR in aaaaaaanything.

Now what happens next is that Mulder and Jerry finally have it out, and he admits in not so many words that he is jealous of Mulder.  But we move past this as Scully - despite not knowing how monitors work...

...cracks the case using voice recognition software and confirms that the murderer was Brad Wilczek. At least, that’s what they think.

Jerry, feeling his career is going down the pan unless he can “dazzle the higher ups” himself, wants to bring Wilczek in alone.  To take all the credit, basically.  To which Mulder agrees - as before, Mulder always does what Jerry wants.

The next scene I am certain is responsible for giving me a lifelong fear of lifts.  The scene where we say farewell to Jerry Lamana.

I used to be fine as a very young child - I remember liking them in fact, but at some point in my childhood I became very fearful of them, particularly if I was going in one alone.  I was certain the cables would snap and I would fall to my death.  I feared them so much, I stopped using them.  I would always take the stairs - always.  I still have the strong compulsion to avoid lifts even today, but I am a lot better than I was.

Watching this scene again, I had a visceral reaction of fear and realised it probably started for me when I saw this episode as an 11 year-old girl.  Weird.

It’s quite disturbing to me, watching Mulder review the tape of his friend fall to his death.  

The way Mulder shakes his head watching him die... it’s very unsettling but also morbidly voyeuristic - he watches it blank faced, on repeat.  For some reason it reminds me of times I’ve seen footage of people dying in real life tragedies.  That is traumatic enough, without actually knowing and caring about the people meeting their ends in the footage.

Scully then comes in and interrupts his self-torture.

This little moment is very touching, the way she slows everything down, speaking slowly and knees at his level.  Her right elbow is bent, does she have her hand on his leg??

Ahem... anyway.  Scully is right.  So right.  Mulder has been through a lot, and it goes deep.  It’s exactly the right thing for her to do - to try and slow him down and get him to acknowledge that what happened has affected him.  Because there is no way that it wouldn’t have.  The guilt of letting Jerry go alone would be crushing enough.

Mulder cannot do that though, he needs more than ever now to solve this case; to get justice for Jerry, but also to avoid acknowledging what he is feeling.  

We know Mulder is a pro at that.  

As mentioned in my Conduit analysis, Mulder’s experience of people getting close to him is that they always leave.  They’re always taken away from him... I don’t think he wants to listen to Scully because he has become very good at keeping his feelings at arms length when he needs to protect himself from them and get shit done.  

After Scully tells Mulder that Wilczek has confessed to the murders, Mulder refuses to accept that - he is convinced Wilczek is innocent, so he goes for a chat with Deep Throat to find out why the government are getting involved.

#I’mSexyAndIKnowIt  

Deep Throat basically connects all the dots for Mulder #cheating and leaves him convinced that not only is Wilczek innocent, but that it’s his machine that killed Jerry and the previous victim.  So he goes to visit him in jail.

Mulder isn’t interested in examining the fantastical in this scenario - which is this incredibly advanced A.I.  No, he wants to straight up ALT+F4 spam it’s ass.  Then go to the Add/Remove programs section of the Control Panel and ANGRILY CLICK UNINSTALL!

Basically, he wants to destroy it.  Destroy the thing that took something precious away from him.

It’s not Mulder’s usual M.O., is it.

Think about how, as recently as Shadows, Mulder was willing to risk lives in order to examine paranormal phenomenon.  The ghost in that episode had killed many more people than this machine too.  He didn’t bat an eyelid then.  But this is personal, and Mulder isn’t interested in investigating this incredible A.I. - he just wants to make sure it gets what it deserves.

We get another opportunity here for Scully to show how well she has got to know Mulder in such a short time.  She picks up on the fact he isn’t quite being himself.  She can see straight away that something else is going on for him, even if she can’t quite see clearly what it is.

At a guess, I’d say she thinks Mulder is feeling guilty for Jerry’s death.  Which I think is exactly right and probably what drives him to want to destroy the machine rather than try to understand it.  The threat of the government getting hold of it feels like more of an afterthought than a primary motivation, but maybe that’s just me.

Also, it’s not made especially clear whether Mulder shared that he got all of this information from Deep Throat.  So Scully has nothing to go on here.  It’s no wonder she doesn’t believe what he’s saying - he’s giving her very little to work with.  It’s not that she refuses to believe it, it’s that his argument isn’t credible enough, he needs to give her more.  But he doesn’t.

Scully, bless her, is just trying to take care of her friend and partner, but is pushed away.  Mulder isn’t wholly heartless, he can see what’s motivating her resistance is concern for him.  There is a brief moment where Mulder visibly softens hearing her words.

When he says “you’re probably right” I think he is genuinely agreeing with her, it’s not a brush off.  She is probably right that he isn’t being himself, that he is being driven by what happened to Jerry - he recognises that.  But he still can’t stop - he has to do what he has to do.  He understands that while Scully is more concerned for him than the case, he won’t get through to her.  So he gives up.

That’s the disappointing part of the MSR here for me. The way Mulder gives in and stops trying to get Scully on side - that’s not their way, they’re always weaker when they’re apart.  Normally he rises to her challenges and fights tooth and nail to bring her on board... but he just nopes out of this one.

Then, as if to prove that all Scully needed was something a bit more substantial to go on than “the machine did it!” and she would have helped Mulder, she witnesses her home computer being hacked into.

A trace on her phone line reveals the hacker is at the Eurisko building - where Wilczek’s machine is located. 

She arrives to find Mulder about to 007 his way inside, and tells him what happened.  He again asserts that it’s the machine behind it all, but this time she’s open to it - now she has some actual evidence to work with.  

And the team is back!

Isn’t Mulder having way too much fun for a guy about to face a murderous HAL9000-wannabe?  When Scully is there with him, he just enjoys it so much more.   Look at him, within minutes of Scully being back on side he’s quipping and smiling again.  I love the look she gives him, because she notices it too.

This offered hand makes me happier than it should.  I need help, really.  But the touching!

Oh the touching!

It’s so subconscious for Mulder to do that, it’s gotta be a protective thing, I’m sure of it.  When he’s feeling protective of her out comes the guiding hands.  Also when he wants to create a barrier between the two of them and someone else - hello handy hands!  

I mean, not always... I think sometimes it’s just force of habit.  But I do wonder if it’s comforting for him, to feel he’s connected to her - we already know that he finds her presence reassuring.  Maybe I am, again, looking too much into it, but that’s why you read this crap, right?  You want me to look too far into it!

Welp, can do!

Seriously, he’s just enjoying himself, isn’t he.

They eventually come to a locked door that they can’t get past, so Mulder has the bright idea of shoving Scully into the air ducts.  

#FeetTouching!

It goes about as well as you would expect.

Of course there’s a giant fan with exposed blades.

Mulder in the meantime has been let in the door by the far-too-helpful-to-not-be-suspicious buildings super.  But works out too late that he’s actually working for the government.

So what exactly does Mulder think has happened to Scully at this point?  They were both almost electrocuted by the machine trying to open a door earlier - this murderous computer is trying every trick in the book to kill them both, and yet he doesn’t seem too concerned that Scully has disappeared.

Wanker.

Who needs Mulder anyway.  The shit is hitting the fan for Scully at the moment OH HO HO HO... but she is being a complete bad ass, hanging from 1 hand whilst trying to shoot out the fan’s power supply.  

Seriously, Scully is such a fucking BAMF.  It takes Mulder until season 10′s My Struggle II to get a moment where he even comes close to being as cool as Scully.

Which makes it all the more vindicating when - after saving her own ass - she shows up later to save Mulder’s as well.

Fucking yeah you do.

Mulder is like, “I know this is totally inappropriate but I’m so turned on right now.”

Just as an aside... Why didn’t Mulder ask her if she was okay?  Seriously, look at her - she’s covered in cuts and bruises and clearly traumatised.  

She’s been through some shit since he last saw her.  Who gives a fuck about this guy, ask if your partner is okay, Mulder!

I was genuinely disappointed in him for not asking.

Ok, enough of that - time for some good old MSR.  So, Scully has a choice here.  

Believe the government spy who says that this is a sensitive operation that she and Mulder are trespassing in on, that she is betraying her sworn duty as a government agent by interfering, and that she will be held personally responsible for the destruction of the machine if she allows Mulder to use Wilczek’s virus to destroy it.

Or believe in her crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner about the machine being a super intelligent A.I. that can kill for self-preservation, and that the technology is so dangerous that the government should not be trusted with it.

Like there was ever a choice.

Of course she sides with Mulder and holds the government goon at gunpoint while Mulder does what he came to do.

I like this scene, because even though she’s not sure if she fully believes what Mulder is saying about the machine is true, she will always have his back.  No matter what.

Scully really was the MVP of this episode.

Sadly, there’s nothing after this; for me it feels oddly unfinished.  There’s no feeling of resolution to the Jerry stuff earlier in the episode which I thought was a shame, especially since Mulder was definitely driven to this by what happened to Jerry.  It could have done with one more scene with Mulder and Scully - maybe at Jerry’s funeral - acknowledging that he did what he did, at least in part, for Jerry.

But nope, the episode ends with Mulder meeting with Deep Throat who tells Mulder that his actions have led to Wilczek being detained by the government indefinitely as there is now no proof that he was innocent of the murders.

We know that he was definitely not prepared to let the thing live.  But turns out it might not have mattered anyway, the final scene shows the machine briefly flicker back to life from the wreckage.  DUN DUN DUN!

Don’t worry, we never see it again.  Like, ever.

And that, as they say, is that.  The end of another episode! 

Next up... 1x08 - Ice.

It’s a biggie next week - Ice is an interesting episode, the MSR gets tested to it’s limits.  Should be a good one - so see you then, guys!

#thexfiles #xfiles #txf #txf gifs #txf analysis #x files msr analysis series #msr #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #david duchovny #gillian anderson #favorite msr moments #chris carter #ghost in the machine #txf 1x07

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Helping Hands

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five| Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen: Hand in Hand

Maria’s Marvel slept twenty-five to thirty guests, plus the captain and crew, but for those who weren’t staying overnight, the top three decks were open for partying and entertainment, and she could guest upwards of ninety people. Starting at three, the yacht would be open to close family and friends -- especially for those who had small children who would not want to be up all night -- and they’d take a slow tour around the island. 

Amanda Carter, her daughter Peggy, and a few of Steve’s other playmates (Peter Parker, accompanied by his Aunt May, along with their neighbor, Mary-Jane Watson) arrived. Not much later came few of Steve’s new classmates, Bobby Drake, Scott and Alexander Summers, Katherine Pride, and Emma Frost, all boarder students accompanied by Professor Xavier and his assistant Hank McCoy. 

Carol had taken one of the lower deck game-rooms and turned it into one of those vast and twisty gerbil mazes, full of brightly colored crawl-tunnels and roped nets. Turning eight kids loose on the playroom -- the room just across the hall held other games, including foozball, a couple of arcade games, a huge television that was showing various Disney films, and a plethora of toys -- was a recipe for the adults to all want drinks of the heavily alcoholic variety. 

Bucky was just teaching Steve the intricacies of foozball when Carol escorted a couple down into the game room. Tony looked up as Bucky froze for an instant -- Stevie took full advantage to score, and when his father didn’t respond, he ran to the other side of the game, grabbed the ball, and scored a few more times -- then went to greet the woman in the door with a fierce embrace. 

“Jamie,” she said, as Bucky grabbed her. 

“Mags.” Bucky cupped the back of her head for a long moment, holding her to him, then let her go and looked at Erik Lehnsherr. “Erik.” 

“James,” Erik said, not moving. 

“Tony, hey,” Bucky said, grabbing the woman’s hand -- his sister, Tony thought, and yeah, looking at her, they were definitely related. “My sister, Magda. Mags, this is Tony.” 

Magda Lehnsherr extended her hand to Tony. “Thanks for taking care of my idiot baby brother,” she said, her eyes sparkling just like Bucky’s, silver-gray and lively. 

“By nine minutes, God, Mags, are you ever going to let that drop,” Bucky said. He rolled his eyes at Tony. 

“No,” Mags said, looking surprised. “Do you honestly expect me to? I have nine minutes, you have six inches in height on me, seems fair.”

[mobile readers: ‘ware the read-more!]

“You’re a twin? Did you ever tell me that? How did I not know that?” Tony turned to Magda, taking her fingers. “It’s very nice to meet you. I met your husband a few weeks back --” 

“Yes, Erik told me,” Mags said, looking over her shoulder at her husband. “The great Tony Stark, turning up sweet on my brother. I confess, I didn’t believe him at first. Not that Jamie’s not a hell of a catch, but I was starting to give up on the idea of him ever coming out of his shell again.” 

“Ug, Mags,” Bucky said. “You kept tryin’ to set me up with the ladies from your garden club. Most of ‘em are like sixty.” He cast a somewhat desperate look in Tony’s direction. 

Mags held a hand out to her side, then reached up and tugged Bucky’s collar to one side, hiding what Tony knew was a vivid purple lovebite. “All right, I confess, I was trying to scare you into dating again.” 

“I do fine,” Bucky said, sliding an arm around Tony’s waist. 

“Well, better than I could do for you, at any rate,” she said. 

Steve scored another fifteen or so points against his dad before he even realized that Bucky wasn’t paying attention anymore, and then noticed his aunt and uncle. “Uncle Erik!” And Steve was across the room, arms up. Erik caught the boy, spun him around and the tense, angry look that Tony was used to seeing on Lehnsherr’s face was totally gone, replaced by a fond, happy smile as he hugged and kissed his nephew. Both Mags and Bucky exchanged one bitter, flat look, then plastered on what Tony immediately recognized as fake smiles on their face. 

“Yeah, look who came to see you, kiddo,” Bucky said, ruffling his son’s hair. 

And then Darcy was there, sensing the tension and doing Darcy things, like taking pictures and asking questions about Mags’s shoes and all the things that Darcy did that naturally made people like her. She got the Barnes/Maximoff/Lehnsherrs to pose for a couple of family photos, then did mix and matches, like she was planning wedding photos in her head, an activity that made Tony laugh and Erik look distinctly uncomfortable. 

Finally, Steve started squirming and dragged his uncle off to look at the gerbil tunnels and persuade Erik to crawl around in the tubes with him, which was also really damn funny, because it was obvious that Erik wouldn’t refuse his nephew anything, but Erik was also a really tall, broad shouldered man, and the tunnels weren’t exactly sized for adults. 

Tony escaped to the bar for a few moments and was just leaning there, watching, when Wanda came up to the bar. 

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri in a glass the size of my head,” she said. “Hey there. Drowning your sorrows?” 

“I don’t have any sorrows right now,” Tony said, “just a little of the ‘moving away from awkward family stuff.’ At least most of it seems to predate me and isn’t because your uncle’s dating a man.” 

“Nah,” Wanda said. “Uncle Bucky and my dad never much liked each other. It predates me and Pietro, too. We made it worse… used to play them off each other when Pietro and I were teenagers. We could always count on Uncle Bucky to butt in on our side and we resented the hell out of Dad suddenly showing up like we were supposed to respect and listen to him. Like having a step-dad, but worse. Pietro was pretty crazy when we were younger, underage drinking and driving and all these high-risk hobbies. He nearly killed himself a few years back, base-jumping. Made us all a little crazy.” She scanned the room, found her brother’s tangle of silver hair and smiled. Like a magnet, Pietro looked up and made his way to Wanda’s side. 

“We are all ready for the show, Mr. Stark,” he said, eager and grinning. “The cameras are all set up, and--” 

“Pretty sure that he knows,” Wanda said, “given that he set the whole thing up, Piet.” Wanda took a long sip of her drink. “Where’s J?” 

Pietro grinned. “He got bit an’ took Sam off to their cabin to work on a new song. We might have somethin’ later, if J’ll let us play it. You know how he is about new music. But it’s good… they haven’t written anything together since...” Her twin made a shapeless gesture in the air, indicating Wanda. 

Wanda’s eyes narrowed dangerously and she tipped her drink up again. Tony had a few seconds to wonder where she was storing it all before she set the glass down, empty. 

Tony took hold of Pietro’s wrist and directed that aimless gesture at the floor underneath them. “For your sister’s sake, shall we direct the blame for that in the appropriate direction? J and Sam’s problems belong to them, and it’s unfair to put it on Wanda, okay?” 

“You,” Wanda declared, putting her arms around Tony’s neck and sagging against him, “are my new favorite person in the whole world. If I didn’t love my uncle so much, I’d throw J over and steal you, but it’d break Uncle Bucky’s heart.” 

“Hey, hey,” Bucky said, coming up, “why does all the interesting parts of the party keep shifting to where I’m not?” 

Wanda grinned. “I’m stealing your boyfriend, Uncle Bucky. He’s adorable and I’m keeping him. Go away, you lost your chance.” 

“The hell you are,” Bucky scoffed. 

Tony shoved Bucky’s shoulder. “Now, now,” he said. “There’s plenty of me to go ‘round.” He stretched out putting an arm around Bucky’s waist and drew him in. “Honestly, this is the best. All my favorite people, right here.” And that was true, God help him. Tony had friends. Some of them were Bucky’s friends and family, but they seemed nice, and none of them had gotten his back up -- well, except for Lehnsherr -- or seemed to want special favors. They’d come to the party not to curry favor or to Be Seen or to show off, but with the honest intentions of simply enjoying themselves. Wanda was happy to see him; the twins cared about Tony’s opinion. He had a wonderful boyfriend. Family. 

How… lovely. Tony turned a brilliant, wide smile in Bucky’s direction and was rewarded by watching his boyfriend be dazzled by it, swaying against Tony’s side and pressing a quick, warm kiss to his mouth. 

The little asshole voice in his brain wondered how long it would take before Tony would fuck it up, or Bucky would turn out to be yet another bastard with eyes on the prize, but Tony was too happy in that moment to give that voice much of an audience. 

If there was heartbreak on the horizon, it was a cost Tony would willingly pay for this one, simple, shining moment. 

Maria’s Marvel pulled back into port, and the parents and kids who weren’t staying overnight went ashore -- Amanda and Peggy Carter were staying because Steve and Peggy were “like that” as Stevie said, crossing his fingers together to indicate how much he loved his best friend -- and the adults who were there for the drinking and the concert came aboard. They’d pilot east for a while, the band would perform, and then back to port to disembark the adults who weren’t staying. Around two in the morning, Carol would take them out one last time, where they’d stay out to sea for the night. The morning would dawn clear and cold, and Tony would climb up to the top deck to watch the sun come up, one of his favorite things. He’d probably go back to bed after that, but sunrise on the ocean was perfection. 

Carol’s partner, Anya, had a buffet spread out for dinner, enough for both sets of guests, and Tony tracked down Steve, sitting with Amanda and Peggy, gesturing with a corn dog that was dripping with ketchup. 

“Hey, kid,” Tony said, sitting down next to the boy, across from Amanda. “Mrs. Carter, I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” 

Amanda Carter grinned. “Very much so, indeed, Mr. Stark,” she said, her voice very British and highly refined. She was an expat, married to a United States Airman. “Maria’s Marvel is a delight.” 

“Glad you like it,” Tony said. “My father had her commissioned as a gift for my mother. I’ve had her refurbished a few times, but the lines are the original.” 

He made small talk with Amanda for a bit longer, then turned to Steve. “Hey, I got something for you,” he said. Steve stuffed two chicken nuggets in his mouth at the same time, chewing noisily. Tony held up a shiny silver pendant on a chain; a small rectangle about as wide and long as Tony’s thumb, engraved with the Stark Industries logo on one side. He demonstrated the catch on one side; opening the pendant up to reveal a pair of digital buttons. “Maria’s Marvel is pretty big and if your dad’s up here, he might not hear you, if you need him while you’re downstairs. So, if you need either of us, just push this top button. It’ll send a message to both of our cell phones. And if it’s an emergency, push this bottom one; that’ll give us two-way speakers, so you can talk to us. Okay?” 

Steve looked up at him with enormous blue eyes -- so much like his dad’s -- and pouted. “You c’d just gimme a phone,” he pointed out. 

Tony suppressed a smirk; kid was a natural. Yeah, if he kept those wide, soulful looks and adorable lip-biting, he was going to be charming the crap out of people in a few short years. “Well, we can talk about that later,” he said. “For now, this is set up and much faster, in case of an emergency. It taps into the Stark Satellite network, too, on an executive priority, so you’ll always have signal. Unless you decide to go spelunking, but I wouldn’t recommend that.” 

“What’s spell… spell…” 

“Spelunking,” Peggy said. She folded her hands over her knee. “It means exploring caves. My daddy showed me a doc’mentry about it, th’ Lorie Caverns.” 

“Luray,” Amanda corrected, absently.   

“S’what I said, mum,” Peggy said, rolling her eyes with as much exasperation as an eight-year-old girl could manage. 

“Okay?” Tony jangled the pendant and Steve took it, sliding the chain over his neck. Tony tucked it into his shirt so the metal rested against his skin. There were some additional functions; the device could track respiration and heart rate, so long as it touched Steve’s skin every few minutes. Stark Tech was currently testing the model, an advanced replacement for Life-Alert’s pendant, which had limited range and often gave out false alerts if a senior forgot to tag that they were leaving the house. Nothing annoyed a senior trying desperately to maintain some sort of independence than rescue personal showing up because they forgot to check their movements with a company.

Steve stuffed another chicken nugget in his mouth. “Fanks,” he said, revealing a mouthful of chewed up chicken. There was definitely something wrong with Tony’s heart, because three months ago, he would not have found it cute or amusing. He’d have been backing away from a child and the parents of children without a single regret. Instead, he reached out and ruffled Steve’s hair. The boy grinned in response. 

Yeah, Tony was turning into a complete sap. It would have sucked, except it was kinda wonderful. 

It was after midnight and the band was in full swing. Moonlight spilled over the ocean and Bucky was sitting on a barstool, cuddled up against Tony’s back. He crossed his arms over Tony’s chest and rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder as they listened to the music. The tiny dancefloor was crowded, and while not everyone on Maria’s Marvel was a friend, they were all friendly. The wine and beer flowed free, the buffet table was pretty well picked-over, and no one had fallen overboard (that had happened at some of Tony’s wilder parties). 

Eventually, Tony led Bucky out onto the dance floor and they took a few turns. The music slowed and a familiar song rang out over the speakers. Bucky drew Tony closer until there was nothing between them but clothes and heat and as Vision played for all they were worth, Bucky leaned in close and sang in Tony’s ear. His voice was smooth like fine whiskey and shivered down Tony’s spine. 

“All I have is a wish to understand… what it would take to be your man.”

#winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #prompts #tisfan #helping hands au #found family #bucky's sister #darcy is probably plotting something

[heartbeatsandrainstorms]

Sometimes my brain is an asshole. Today, it has chosen to be an asshole because people in my life are not doing/ saying exactly the right things that asshole brain wants them to do to show that they care.

#I wasn't worried about you doing well #I'm proud of you #asshole brain wants people to be mind readers apparently #asshole brain also wants a hug but does not have appropriate people to ask for a hug #a-hole brain is also upset that the response to my successes from authority figures is always #rather than #if you're reading these tags you are almost certainly not the target demographic for my brain's assholery on this front #this is so stupid but I don't have places in real life to talk about this shit #so sorry internet you're getting subjected to it #yes I know I probably need therapy to unpack a lot of this #but that's not exactly an option at the moment