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blainesebastian · 2 years

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mutually assured satisfaction (pt4)

words: 3,026 ship: austin butler x reader summary: reader’s agent approaches her with a PR stunt to date austin butler and promote both their careers. a mapped out plan, an electric relationship–what could possibly go wrong? notes: masterlist is on my sidebar! :) previous parts can be found there. if you’d like to be added to the tag list, please let me know warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @kittenlittle24, @slowsweetlove, @namoreno, @strokesofstokes, @callthedarknessdown, @kibumslatina, @al-co-hol-youlater, @frogoerson, @dancer4j

Time moves forward, another day into a few weeks and things are going completely smooth that you almost forget that none of it is real. There’s dates and events and interviews and you and Austin get along so well together, you enjoy spending time with him, you’re actually starting to look forward to it. But it’s not just you, you can see it on Austin’s face too—at least you think you can? Sometimes it’s hard to gauge, hard to read between the lines. What does it even mean for something to be real between you anyways?

Sometimes you hold hands when no one’s watching, or share a kiss just because Austin is scrunching his nose a certain way or you’re teasing him about a shirt he’s got on. Could be literally nothing and your lips lock.

What’s real? What’s genuine? –Everything about the two of you together is a lie. Why does it matter to you so much that you want to figure it out? You’ll be breaking up with one another at the beginning of next month. Your head is a constant whirling, a washing machine stuck on a spin cycle.

And the more you allow yourself to think about it, the more Elvis’s lyrics make sense to you, a song that’s stuck in your head over the past two days: I’m caught in a trap, I can’t get out.

To Christina’s credit, she doesn’t even attempt to tell you ‘I told you so’; at least there’s that. Regardless, the only thing you’re concerned about is brushing it underneath a rug and powering forward. Once this whole thing is over and you’re out of this rose-colored daze that’s Austin Butler, you’ll start to get your bearings again.

It’s like looking at a few broken pieces of ceramic up close for so long that you forget it’s part of a bigger mosaic.

Glancing at a missed call from your mom, you hover over her name to tap and call her back. There’s this…bad feeling settling low in your stomach that it might have something to do with your grandmother. Or…or maybe it’s nothing, right? Knowing her she’s called to have a twenty-minute conversation about this new recipe she tried or that she watched your latest interview on YouTube.

Nothing that can’t wait.

You slide your phone into your purse and glance over at Austin in the back of a SUV, pulling in across the street of an event you’re going to tonight. It’s been on your calendar for a while, long past the whole ‘plan’ with Austin—a charity event at a museum that benefits an ‘arts in schools’ program. The goal is to auction off children’s art pieces that are in the program and all the money raised goes directly back into the pot. You’ve done it for two years in a row now, you really enjoy the charity and feeling like you’re able to give something back. You loved art as a teenager and even thought you might teach it for a while in college.

Though, you’re not exactly heartbroken about where your path has taken you in life.

Sharing a small smile with Austin, you undo your seatbelt, running a hand through your hair. Austin gently touches your elbow, causing you to pause from getting out of the SUV, “You alright? You’re quiet tonight.”

Despite not being in a ‘relationship’ with you for very long, he picks up on cues incredibly well. He reads people, looks at you like an open book, fingers grazing along words. Regardless, now is not the time to talk about this. And even if you wanted to say something about it, which…you kind of do? —Austin’s surprisingly a good listener, stuff with your grandmother is just not his problem. He doesn’t have to worry about that for you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just got a lot going on.”

Austin nods softly but doesn’t press, “We don’t have to go, you know.”

Tilting your head back with a soft sigh, you know he’s right but, “We do. It’s lowkey, just buying a bunch of kid’s art pieces. Besides, it’s part of our mutually agreed on dates.” And even though there’s been a lot of random additions lately? you’re attempting to stick to the plan as much as possible.

Austin’s eyebrows draw together and he shrugs. He looks good tonight—a simple outfit; black fitted slacks, a silky white button-down shirt tucked in, and a contemporary cut, casual suit jacket to match. With you wearing a black and white polka dot dress, you compliment eachother really well.

“We’re the dates, right? You and me? We can change whatever we want.”

And you hate how much you enjoy the sound of that, you and me. You cannot believe you’ve let this crush of yours run rampant. While doing something else tonight feels promising, you’ve steeled yourself into moving forward according to plan…and that includes going to this charity event.

“I’m alright,” You promise, leaning over to plant a kiss to his cheek.

That seems to be encouragement enough because Austin doesn’t attempt to argue or persuade you anymore, instead getting out of the SUV and following you across the street to the red velvet covered steps. There’s a multitude of fans for both of you on the outskirts of the event, security attempting to keep barriers up and people at bay so that they don’t overcrowd the sidewalk. This is easy proof that your PR stunt is working, especially for fans of Austin to be waiting for an event you’ve only mentioned in your Instagram story. They knew he’d be here.

While security does their best to usher you both forward, both you and Austin seem to have similar ideas of lingering to speak to people, sign autographs and pose for selfies. You’ve never been greedy with your time, never in a rush when it came to pausing and talking to people—without fans? Your world wouldn’t revolve. Period. It’s nice to see someone else who gets it, Austin is incredibly generous with making sure he talks to as many people as he can. And not just by offering one or two words but holding conversations.

That’s something genuine, special.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, Austin’s hand automatically reaches for yours, lacing fingers together. The action itself has become so second-nature that it almost feels weird when you’re not holding hands.

“Austin!”

You turn to say something to him but a voice to the right at the end of the barricade grabs your attention. A young woman behind the row of barriers calls Austin’s name again—and it’d be so easy for him to ignore her, for him to keep walking with you up the steps and into the event. But he doesn’t, he turns and seeks her out, slowly wandering towards her as she begins talking past the security guards.

“I dunno if you remember me but I worked on a movie set with you,” She’s saying, struggling against the guards. She’s not pushing but she definitely is trying to talk to Austin without the bodyguards blocking her, “It was a long time ago so I understand if you don’t—”

Austin’s face lights up in realization, a small smile on his face, “No I remember you, Meg, right?”

And you can tell it makes this girl’s night. “Yes! Meg, I uh—I didn’t expect,” She laughs, “It’s nice to see you again.” Honestly you’re a little bit impressed yourself. From what you can tell, this girl worked on a movie set but wasn’t someone who was in the main day to day, maybe…delivered coffee or was some kind of extra. Either way, the fact that Austin not only remembers her but then takes the time to reach out and squeeze her hand in a hello?

You’re definitely a bit moved. Just goes to show what kind of person he is—goes out of his way to remember anyone he interacts with. You could probably learn a thing or two from him about being graceful…not that you’d ever admit to that outloud.

Giving him another smile after he waves to Meg, takes your hand again. Leaning down, he plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth, seemingly just because, as you both start walking up the steps. You do your best to ignore (and fail) the heated feeling bubbling in your stomach and butterflying up your chest—something you’re quickly beginning to associate just from being with Austin.

Once you both visit the table to sign in and hear how the auction works, what time it’s starting, all the odds and ends, you both wander towards an open bar. Austin leaves you there, his hand lingering along your lower back as he excuses himself to the restroom. Your gaze flutters over him as you watch him go, disappear around the corner—there’s this buzzing in your ears that you feel like is overwhelming, some sort of strong emotion that sits in your chest when you’re together. Being with him is somehow dizzying in the best way. You just…don’t know what it’s supposed to mean, where you want to go with all this, if Austin is even on the same page or if he’s just that good of an actor.

Brushing your hand over your forehead, you order a glass of wine, feeling someone slide up beside you.

“I thought that was you.”

Turning, you recognize Nate’s voice immediately, a soft smile tugging the corners of your mouth. Your ex, dressed in a navy suit, clean sharp lines, dark hair and kind blue eyes. The color is somehow highlighted by the shade of the jacket and his hand gently reaches to squeeze your arm. You have a pretty decent friendship with Nate despite how things ended. The breakup was ugly, but your relationship wasn’t. Neither was what came after—apologies, understandings, removing layers of toxicity that either of you ever intended to be there.

“Yeah, course,” You laugh softly, moving to hug him. “Never miss this event—you know that.” You do not notice a few camera shutters going off, capturing the embrace.

You slowly pull apart, your hand reaching for the glass of wine that’s set on the counter for you. Thanking the bartender with a polite head nod, you take a small sip. Nate gives you a onceover, a not-so-subtle way of checking you out but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable,

“I’ve been meaning to text you actually, especially when I knew this event was coming—did you come with anyone?”

You swallow over what feels like glass in your throat, “My boyfriend, actually, Austin.”

He raises his eyebrows, about to reply when you feel him coming up behind you. He settles against your side, an arm sliding around your waist. When you look up at him, he’s got his eyes on Nate—curious but cautious.

“Speak of the devil,” You tease lightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Austin, this is Nate—Nate, Austin.”

Nate nods his head, reaching his hand out to shake, “Nice to meet you man, heard a lot about you.”

Austin politely hums, offering his hand as well. “Nice to meet you too—wish I could say the same.” And there’s something there to the tone of Austin’s voice, something you can feel in the tenseness of his body. While this is the same sort of skin he slips on to speak to other people, a genuine kindness, you can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable as well.

Nate isn’t sure how to take that comment and well, to be fair, you have not talked a lot about your ex. It’s been a while since you’ve been together, it’s not like you actively hang out as friends. It’s moreso like this—you bump into one another at events, catch up and move on.

He powers through though, clearing his throat as he looks back at you with a smile, “Well you look beautiful.”

A soft blush kisses your cheeks and when you look up at Austin, there’s a muscle working in his jaw as he clamps his mouth shut. What is going on with him? You shake off the tension and reach out to touch Nate’s arm, “Thank you.” And you’re about to say your goodbyes, maybe throw out a ‘see you around’, meaning this event, but,

“I also just…wanted to say that I’ve been wanting to text you about your gram?” You swallow, feeling yourself go cold, “Just…ask how she was, how you are.”

That same feeling of panic wells up in your chest, that unanswered call from your mom, still needing to call her back and ask what’s going on. Wondering…a small voice in the back of your mind telling you that you already know that something’s wrong, that something bad has happened, but not wanting to admit it to yourself.

Austin, sensing your body language, squeezes you around your waist, “We’ll see you around the event, good luck with the auction.”

Nate blinks but then nods, moving to pick up his drink at the bar before giving you a light smile and walking away. Least he’s got the point and it doesn’t turn into this big thing. Austin lets his arm slip away, mostly just to turn a bit so he can face you, your back leaning against the open bar. His body almost creates a cage that feels comforting in a way that you can’t explain.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Shaking your head, you tip your chin just a little to look up at Austin and…you want to tell him, you do, but you’re not sure you even want to know yourself. If you let yourself go there, if…what your mom called about is actually happening? You’re not sure you can face that, let alone let Austin be there for you.

“Nothing,” You lie, “I hadn’t seen Nate in a while so we were just catching up.”

Austin lets out a breath through his nose, patient, “I’m not talkin’ about Nate.”

And you know that? But you scramble to come up with some other explanation, some other thing that you can talk about instead of—your eyebrows draw together as you get a good look at Austin’s face, especially after saying Nate’s name, curling your hair around your ear.

“Are you…” You trail off for a moment, amusement drawing the corners of your mouth up, “Why do you look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon right now?”

Austin frowns, his one hand drawing along the lower half of his face. “—what?”

Then your eyes widen in soft realization because, oh, oh God. “Oh my god, you’re jealous.”

Now Austin blinks at you, taking a step back, a laugh crawling up his chest. “I’m not—and besides, what’s there to be jealous of anyways?”

A scoff escapes your lips and you almost cover your mouth because that doesn’t sound defensive at all. There’s a brightness to your eyes as you laugh about this because regardless of what’s coming out Austin’s lips, his body language and the tone of his voice are saying things that are very different.

Moving closer to him, your hand rests along his chest, tipping your chin up to look at him, “I think it’s cute.” And at this point you can no longer recognize whether you’re acting or not, whether Austin’s reactions are premeditated or felt in response to you. The line is so blurred that it’s practically nonexistent.

He smiles a little down at you, shaking his head. Austin playfully grabs at your chin with his fingers, drawing you into a kiss, even as you’re laughing.

The auction itself goes well—both you and Austin actually buy pieces and donate money to the charity, so that feels good. It’s a night filled with drinks, food, and exploring the art in the museum that’s open during the time of the event, which feels like an extra special treat because you never seem to have time to just look at art in a gallery. You remember how much you love it and learn that Austin has quite the eye for expressionist paintings. It’s easy to fall in love with him when you hover in front of a painting and he talks about color, texture, and brush strokes.

Making your way out of the event, you hover near the SUV as Austin pauses with some fans that waited for him to leave. He’s talking with a few of them, signing autographs, posing for selfies. A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth as you watch him, Nate coming down the carpet walkway to go to his car as well. He offers a small wave to you in goodbye, pausing to follow your line of sight to Austin.

“Austin’s great,” Nate starts, “You seem happy.”

You hum lightly, turning your head to look at him. And you’re not sure what even makes you say it but, “Or maybe I’m just a really good actress.” You tease and Nate…looks at you for a few long moments, his eyes narrowing just lightly before he laughs.

“No, I can see it in your face. Your eyes—there’s obviously something real there.” You have no idea how to take that because…something real? What does that even mean? It couldn’t mean anything, right? This is all just pretend, a connection built on mutual satisfaction.

That’s it.

And yet, you know exactly what Nate is talking about because no sooner than the words leaving his mouth, you feel that same sensation in your chest. There is something real there, and you…are almost certain Austin senses that too.

Which is terrifying.

“Just,” Nate reaches out and gently touches your wrist, “Let him in, alright? Don’t hide yourself away.” You swallow thickly, wanting to take that advice but…always easier said than done. You accept the small kiss that he plants on your cheek before turning to leave.

Austin approaches you a few moments later, opening up the SUV door for you to slide in first. “How does late night pizza sound?”

You smile but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, “You read my mind.”

Thank you so much for reading! :) 4 parts left.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #mas series #mas

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dapper-shipping-forever · 1 year

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There was only one bed

AnD thEre wAs OnLy oNe BeD

An amazing achievement in self indulgence.

Gillian was simply glad they'd found a room in the first place tonight; the only inn in.the whole town was nearly totally full, except one room. What caused her more conflict, was that this room only had one bed. Not something she'd be worried about if it was just her, no, right now she wasn't alone.

Her frequent traveling companion, Vash the Stampede, stood awkwardly beside her. He flexed his hand on the strap of his travel bag. Each time he opened his metallic fingers, he looked like he was about to say something, then his words fizzled away before he dared to actually open his mouth to speak.

When Vash finally did speak, it was a quick, decided statement. "I can just camp outside tonight." Followed by a quick spin on his heel to walk back towards the inn door behind them.

Gill was quick to snatch out her hand, grabbing the sleeve of his giant jacket, at the same time she blurted out her protests. "Wait ! No, no why would you do that? It's alright, Vash." She pulls his sleeve with both her hands, stopping him in place there.

Shyly, he turns back towards her, and she let's go of his sleeve as he faces her. His head turned as to not look directly at her, his eyes cast somewhere on the floor across the room, maybe he found a particularly interesting spot. "But," He pauses. "I'm not gonna make you share a bed with me." He brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck, looking like he's actively making sure he's not looking towards her; she sees a faint blush creep to his cheeks as well.

"You're not making me." She sighs, giving him a sweet smile. "Look, it's not an issue; we've slept next to each other before while camping, it's like the same thing. There's enough space where we can have room, too. It's big enough for the two of us."

Again, he hasn't looked at her since turning around. "I'm not sure about that."

"It's going to be freezing camping out there tonight. If you do that, I wouldn't be able to get any sleep in here anyway, worrying about you out there. Please, won't you stay, Vash?"

She grabs one of his hands in both of her smaller hands, and looking at her gaze at him when his eyes finally slide back to her, he can't refuse those puppy eyes she gives him.

His shoulders slump, arguments defeated, and he sighs. "Alright, as long as you're comfortable doing this." He turns away, avoiding her piercing, earnest look. "We should get ready for bed; you want to shower first?"

"No, you go ahead." She says.

He just nods, and they both separate to different parts of the compact room. Gill goes to the single bed, plopping to sit on its edge and bouncing a little as she disturbs the surface. Vash is near the bathroom door, getting ready for his shower. As her eyes drift to Vash, Gill finds herself drawn in to watching him. Instantly she's captivated by the simple ritual he does. Taking off the bulky shoulder guard he wears, slipping off his heavy coat. The way he unbuckles his holster from his thigh and steps closer to set it gently upon the bedside table. His slender, deft fingers undoing the laces on his boots, and the motions of him pulling them off with care. Her eyes follow those casual motions, as he sheds his outer layers and becomes in a way, more vulnerable before her; when he slips his glasses off his face, folding the sides and settling them beside his gun, he looks softer. She sees with her eyes what she knows is inside him underneath the guise of the feared Stampede, just a boy. One simply misunderstood by most others.

His eyes slide to her, and he tilts his head to the side, making his hair shift across his face. "Aren't you going to get ready?"

She slams back into her body, out of her dreamy viewing of Vash's body. "Ah. Yes ! Yeah, I should." She bends to first start pulling off her boots, setting them both aside nearby.

She misses Vash's eyes on her. Layers of her outer clothing coming off.

She looks back at Vash as he coughs, watching him ruffle the back of his blond hair. "I'm gonna shower now. I promise not to take too long." He says. Soon he's closed the door behind him, and after a pause she hears the shower turning on too.

In the empty room, Gill can finally let her shoulders relax, and her mind takes off like a runner at the sound of a gun. The flustered feelings she pushed aside watching Vash get undresses rise now, and she puts her elbows on her knees and hides her face as a blush appears on her cheeks. Yeah, what she'd told him was true. She'd much rather they sleep in the same bed than have him camp outside alone; it's perfectly alright with her. What she hadn't said was how the thought of sleeping inches from him filled her with images of feeling his broad, warm chest under her fingers and the blurred lines between them when their limbs tangled together; that she'd imagined cuddling with him many times before.

They'd already slept next to each other dozens and dozens of times. Camping in the sand, their sleeping bags started feet from each other, now more like inches away, and when the desert nights felt frigid they have slept essentially cuddling each other; Vash would wrap his muscular arm around her and keep her folded into his side to make sure she stays warm. This shouldn't feel any different. But it does.

Sharing a real bed, sleeping beside each other under one blanket, the heat of their bodies mixing, her face is nearly aflame. She can't just say she's just alright sleeping on the floor after promising him it's not weird. How is she supposed to share a bed with him when she's totally fucking in love with him.

Showers around these parts are always short; it's only a brief bit later she hears the water shut off. The sounds of Vash shuffling behind the door follow in the quiet. He opens the door, clothed in his simple concealing sleep clothes hanging loosely around his body. The way his wet hair hangs on his face does, decidedly, nothing to make her any less flustered. But she sits upright and gives him a smile, shoving away her impure imaginations.

"Shower's yours." He says, smiling softly at her.

"Thanks !" She says, almost too quickly, and hops onto her feet off the mattress. She has to walk by him, after she grabs her sleep clothing, and she's not sure if the subtle tension is just from her.

As soon as the bathroom door is closed, she sighs, her hands pressed flat on the cool surface. She can't keep getting flustered by him, not tonight; she can't risk Vash seeing and getting uncomfortable. But he's beautiful. Inside and out. It's impossible for her to not think about him; whenever she's near him, it's like he's her center of gravity. Every movement from him draws her eye and keeps her enraptured. The image of him with his hair wet and doe eyes gazing at her reentered her thoughts, and she thumped her head on the door, biting back a noise.

"What was that?" Vash called from the bedroom.

"Nothing !" She called back quickly. She sighs, stepping back from the door, shaking out her hands as she turns around. Taking her shower gives her a couple minutes to settle her nervous energy, but as she's dressed and about to reopen the bathroom door, she feels some of it returning, thinking of him waiting out there for her. Maybe he's already asleep? Would she be disappointed if he is?

She opens the door, and he is wide awake. She's not sure how that feels. But he is sitting at the edge of the bed, cleaning his gun. His head raises when he hears her step into the main bedroom, and again that boyish, warm smile shines onto her. "Hey."

"Hey." She says. She swallows some nerves, and walks to the bed, grabbing her own guns she'd taken off.

The next several minutes are quiet, the only sounds are the metallic sliding and clicking of their guns. They both sit and clean their guns, not quite side by side but she feels him next to him more than see him as she focuses on busy work, him on the side of the bed and her on the foot. Funnily, she realizes while cleaning, that Vash should've been done long before her by this point; he has one gun while she has two to maintain, plus he started before her. But his practiced movements are slow, and it almost looks like he's pretending to clean it, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Is he nervous? Does he not want to talk to her right now? Vash wouldn't avoid her like that.

She goes on autopilot to finish cleaning her guns. There's a stretch of a couple seconds where they're both just sitting there, guns set aside, twiddling their thumbs. Neither is sure how to transition into bed time from there. Gill could say something right now, but what should she? Can she just say, let's go to bed? That could sound like she's suggesting something more ! Maybe? She's never shared a bed with someone before ! How does she do this stuff? She breaks the silence by sighing.

That gets Vash to look at her. "You tired?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah, kinda." She chuckles. "Are you tired?"

Vaah nods, shifting on the bed. "Same. Let's get some sleep."

When they've finally shifted into place on the bed, both of them moving slowly and somewhat awkwardly dancing around each other to get comfortable, they are back to back. There's as much space as the bed allows between them, a small couple of inches that Gill can feel his warmth seeping across to warm her.

"Good night." He whispers.

"Good night." She whispers back.

—

Warm sunlight on her face starts waking Gill; she scrunched her face, not wanting to be dragged out of her night's sleep this easily. She groans; if she stays laying her, she might fall back asleep for a bit right now.

She shifts in place to get comfortable, and the hard surface along her back stops her from moving too much. That's when she realizes there's something besides the blanket covering her right now. Her eyes fly open now, but seeing isn't necessary to know who's arms are wrapped around her waist, who's chest is pressed flush to her entire back, and whose breath tickles her hair as his face buries itself into the top of her head. She clamps her mouth closed to avoid squeaking as she feels her face get washed in an intense blush. When did he do this? By the way he's just laying there, it's obvious he's currently sleeping. Did he do this fully asleep? That's pretty sweet, but now what does she do about it? Should she wake him? But he usually wakes before her and he could use some more sleep. She breathes deeply. It feels good. Having his arms around her feels simply incredible. She wants them to stay. She wants to just continue to feel him pressed to her and holding her like she's the most important thing in universe. If he did this unknowingly, though, he probably wouldn't like her taking advantage of this.

She shifts a little, trying to see if she can wiggle out of his iron grasp. It accomplishes something rather different. He let's out a sigh, tightening his arms and pulling her ever closer. His legs move too, bending at the knee and looping with her's to tangle them together. She's already flustered by this, then his head moves too, as he stretches his body briefly. His face nuzzles lower, and for a couple seconds she feels his lips graze her bare shoulder, breath sending tingles along her spine, then he's back to holding her securely in his arms. His body is like a protective cage, and the way he cradles her gently and securely makes her just melt; he has almost completely surrounded her physically, but in all other ways she is submerged within him. Everything she is finds solace within Vash, and being held in his arms is what makes everything feel at home. She can't make herself move again. She's selfish and a terrible friend for indulging herself this way, but she lets herself be held by Vash, just to feel his love warmer than the sun.

They lay that way for a while; Gill stays as quiet as possible, her soundtrack Vash's soft breathing. The rising and falling of his chest moves on her back, and occasionally he shifts slightly though his hold never loosens. She's honestly just glad Vash seems to be sleeping sound as he is; she's seen him on the nights where the things he's seen keep him awake at night, and the pinching of his brow when he does fall asleep that way. She can't see his face right now, but his body feels relaxed. Taking a small risk, she moves one hand to wrap it around one of his on her torso. She moves her thumb slowly across the back of his hand.

Eventually, she becomes distracted in her daydreams enough that when Vash starts moving again it startles her; and this time it's not the sluggish stirrings of someone who's sleeping, it's the intentional stirrings of someone waking. Panicking, she freezes. What's he going to say if he realizes she's been awake this whole time? Does she pretend she just woke too? He wouldn't believe that, maybe? Not knowing what else to do, she quickly closes her eyes and makes herself relax to pretend to be asleep. A few minutes of waiting, trying to stay as steady as she can. She hears a tired groan behind her, and his arms flex and try to move around her. Then he freezes. Suddenly, his body quickly pulls away from her's, and she at once misses his warmth; based on the dip in the mattress, she figures he's sitting upright now. He isn't moving any further than that, and she starts to get restless just laying in place. She can feel his eyes on her, and she only hears some soft rustling behind her as he moves. Then, almost making her jump from surprise, she feels his hand brush some hair away from her face. His motions are soft, slow; his fingers barely brush her face as if he's trying his best not to wake her. His hand lingers, and another couple minutes of fighting to not move an inch, the mattress does move again. She feels him lean closer, and before she can question what he's doing, she feels a gentle touch on her head. Vash places a soft kiss on top of her head; only lingering for a couple seconds, she has to bite the inside of her cheek to ground herself.

When his weight leaves the mattress, she keeps herself from moving. When she hears the movement of clothes and the sound of the bathroom door closing, she dares not to move. It's only when she hears the sound of the room door open and then close that she instantly flips and smashes her face into her pillow, groaning into it. What was that ! The touch? The kiss? He just did that? Her face is practically burning as she kicks her feet in the air behind her, disturbing the sheets around her. It takes a couple minutes before she calms, lifting her face slightly from the pillow. It wasn't enough that he had to cuddle her in his sleep, he had to be soft and mess with her l emotions further. He must have no idea how she feels about him, because he's not that cruel to do that to her knowingly.

She forgot to pay attention to how long Vash was out, and she jumps upright at the sound of the key in the door. Quickly, she tries to look normal, like she just woke, desperately fixing the blanket. When he opens the door, Vash's face lights into a gentle smile seeing her. If she's not mistaken, there's also a faint blush. He's holding a brown bag full of something in one arm.

"Good morning. Sleep well?" He greets.

"Yeah." She has to cough to try and rid how awkward she sounds from her voice. "Where'd you run off to this early, mister?"

He seems to remember the bag he's holding, gesturing to it with a shift of his arm. "I got us some breakfast ! It's nothing fancy, but I figured you'd be hungry when you woke."

If any part of her had felt frustrated by his obliviousness, it's completely overruled by the feeling that sentence gives her. Vash is always thinking about everyone around him, but everytime he cares for her specifically she feels like she could just curl into a mushy ball.

"Thank you, Vash." She says. Patting the bed next to her, she invites him to sit on the edge with her and eat.

She won't say anything about what he did, and he seems to be silent on it as well. That's alright. Delving too much into that could reveal more than either of them are ready to admit to the other. If they stay like this, traveling companions and loyal friends, nobody can get hurt.

They enjoy their breakfast together, lit by the morning sunlight from the window. Laughing and talking between bites, the complicated feelings they both felt today are forgotten just for right now. Both are just glad to have each other.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship community #self ship writing #oc x canon #dapper writes

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stargazingdruid · 1 year

Text

Tw: Threat of physical violence, lots of raw angry emotions, machine possessing a human

(This is for what I'm planning to write in the future. It's been in my head for days and while it's still the barest of bones, I wanted to get it out. So, setting the scene-

Luke Carder, luckiest bastard on earth, survived. Rescued by some recluse nonbinary redditor who was encouraged by their followers to go outside and get fresh air. ....Look how that turned out. Luke has a techy snarky ex best friend/ his former editor, they get back into contact. Melody Hobbes, Kaycee Hobbes' younger sister, seeks out Luke in place of her mother to find out what he knows about the game her sister threw her entire life (and lost it) into. Everybody is in their mid twenties and now deeply involved in a hidden conspiracy within the confines of Gamefuna and Inscryption. Inscryption has now been thrown onto the internet and has become big multi-player MMORPG- it's a huge hit, but there's something sinister underneath the surface that involves players either going missing or being found in their homes, dead or in a coma. .....Weirdly enough, that makes the game even more popular.

So, setting has been set. Snarky Ex Best friend (fuck it, his name is Matt. He feels like a Matt.) bites off more than he can chew and challenges P03- loses badly. However, P03 has bigger plans for him....isn't it a shame that the game involves wearing a VR headset that is directly connected to the computer?

"That's the Ticket.")

-----

"It doesn't make sense...." Melody mumbled to herself, tapping her fingers along the sticky keys of her sister's old laptop. "Kaycee kept a journal on here, I know she did, so unless she changed it around and password protected it before she passed....no, no....that doesn't make sense either, I saw the icon for it on the desktop, clear as day all those years ago! It was there....then where did it go!? Nobody's touched it except for me!" She growled, leaning back in her chair and roughly running her hands into her brown hair. Her olive green eyes tiredly looked towards the mirror hanging on her wall. A fingernail traced along one of the dark circles. "I need more sleep...."

Bzzzzt. Bzzzzzt. Her Android began vibrating, startling the woman as she knocked her elbow hard against her desk, causing the phone to fall off onto the floor.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Melody whined in pain, leaning down to pick up her smartphone from the slightly dusty carpet. The sight of it made her grimace before she looked at the Caller ID on the screen. "Luke? ....He told us he would get some rest. Stupid man..."

Melody lifted her head back up to answer, absent-mindedly looking back into the mirror as she did...and nearly having a fucking stroke at the sight of Matt now standing in her doorway. "MATT!? HOLY SHIT, YOU SCARED ME! What the heck are you doing here, it's literally midnight! Seriously, you could have at least texted me or something. And you know what, another thing, where the hell have you been!? Do you know how worried we've been about you!?" She scolded on, not even picking up the fact that Matt's usual grin on his face was vacant and he was not answering a single inquiry. "Are you seriously not talking!? I know you're a smartass, but none of this is funny right now! Better yet, guess who YOU'LL have to answer to!" Melody smugly slid her finger against the phone screen, answering his now....third attempted call? Wow.

"MELODY!? OH, THANK FUCK THAT YOU ANSWERED!"

"Hey! Sorry, yeah, got the surprise of my life over here. And SPEAKING of surprises, Matt decided to just emerge from out of nowhere and into my apartment! And did you know this asshole isn't even saying anything!? Even AFTER showing up into my home unannounced!?"

"....Matt's there?"

"Isn't that not what I just said?! ....Actually...." Rationality started to click in Melody's brain as she looked at Matt's indifferent expression, now with confusion. "How did you even get in, Matt? The main floor is card protected and my door was locked."

"Mel. You need to listen to me- you need to get out of there. NOW." Luke's genuinely frightened and concerned voice shook Melody a bit, causing her to stagger when Matt began to take several steps toward her.

"Luke, what are you talking about? It's just Matt. He's acting weird and all, but that card battle with P03 may have just shook him up or something-"

"That ISN'T Matt, Melody!!"

Four words. This was the second time four words made Melody's blood chill. The first time, it was ten years ago with her inconsolable mother clutching to the then fourteen year old girl in both comfort and desperation.

"Kaycee...she's dead, Melody..."

The sounds of Luke screaming her name from the phone drowned out as the girl went limp, lost in thought as "Matt" strolled up to her, easily taking the phone from her hand and ending the call. He handed it back to her and spoke. His voice was familiar in two specific ways, but also wrong.

"Turn it off so he won't call you again."

Melody carefully did as she was told. "Matt" glanced at Kaycee's old laptop.

"That too. Don't just close it. Might be old tech, but she knew tricks. Not taking any chances when I go through it later."

Melody winced at the familiar way a certain robot talked, gingerly looking up. Matt's blue eyes were nearly glowing, almost an artificial neon hue. They were cold. They weren't Matt's eyes.

".....P03.....? How....you.....why aren't you-"

"In the game? Still am, just a projection of my conscious as a precaution. It's strange, really wasn't expecting this to work. But if others can do it by fully escaping, well....why can't I?"

"....Matt...is...he...is he-"

"Don't blubber. It's unsanitary to me. Your friend is fine. It's not like I killed him. He lost and I gained my prize. If I go offline in this body, he'll come to." That made her bristle.

"Matt isn't a prize for you to have control of!!!" Melody screamed at the one who wore her friend's face, "He fought as hard as he could to get us out of that factory and doesn't deserve any of this! You're fucking despicable!"

"Are you done, Melody? We don't have a lot of time, so I'll say this nicely- Turn off your sister's laptop and hand it over. Nice and clean." That indifferent look on his face, it pissed her off so badly. Not just because it did not fit Matt's carefree personality at all, but the fact that P03 could just use him like he was one of the numerous robotic parts from his conveyer belts. How could he. How could he be the same card that she would draw over and over...Back when she was younger, and Melody stole a glance, then a longer one, at the game her sister hyperfixated on for hours and hours....where she saw a card that made her smile.

"I liked you better when you were a Stoat."

Despite Melody's extroverted personality, she's never been the bravest regarding saying something that might get her thrown from the frying pan into the fire. There wasn't even a frying pan involved with that statement- Melody simply allowed herself to dive into the pot of boiling water.

The rolling chair she sat on went crashing into the wall as P03 grabbed Melody's shoulders and slammed her back hard into her desk. She struggled to keep her balance through bended knees, feeling her arms and back of neck bruise from the force. The indifference was gone. Only glowing blue of raw rage filled her vision.

"Don't EVER say that again. EVER. Do you understand me, you pathetic human!? Don't you EVER compare me to that weak, living beast that only had the fate of being sacrificed, again and again, feeling every inch of pain from every slash. Having to live with the threat of being ripped to shreds at a moment's notice or be laughed at, night in and night out." P03 snarled, voice growing louder and more livid with each passing second. He used Matt's thumbs to sink the digits deep into Melody's collarbone, nearing her throat as she struggled against his grasp. Her legs were beginning to wobble from the pressure. Her own hands gripped Matt's arms as she tried to pry him off her to no avail.

"Do you know what it's like to feel like the laughingstock of everybody? EveryTHING? COULD YOU EVEN IMAGINE THAT!? No, no you wouldn't. Your sister didn't either. She would laugh and play against Leshy over and over again. You think THIS loser is possessed!? She ACTED like she was- NOTHING else mattered to her and Leshy but to see me suffer!! And then, Ar-...." His eyes softened for the fraction of a second, "...She was gone before that, before that stinking beast took control of everything....She left me alone."

Melody was confused by what he was rambling about now.

She?

Maybe she was reading into it too much, but she had a very strong feeling that he wasn't talking about Kaycee. However, just as soon as that softness showed, back was the rage. He slammed Melody hard again against the desk. The wood splintered.

"DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!!! DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT ME LIKE YOU CARE, LIKE HOW 'SHE' LOOKED AT ME! You might have 'her' face, and you might be all that I think about because your face and 'HERS' are in my registry, but you're not her! Because there's somebody else you remind me of...." P03 used Matt's face to grin, almost maniacally. "Kaycee Hobbes may have led to my creation like the others have, but she was a fucking sadistic bitch who deserved burning in that fire all those years. I hope she felt every bit of it. I hated her, I hated her so much..." His hands now grabbed Melody's trembling face, yanking her head up to make her look at him. "And you look JUST. LIKE. HER."

(To settle any nerves, Melody turns out okay and matt/p03 gets his jaw punched by an achy 'why are you not in the fucking hospital' Luke Carder while reclusive redditer gets Melody away from whatever AI takeover BS this is.)

((I love p03 but I am absolutely convinced he's a bottle of pent up rage post inscryption. Comparing him to the stoat was the last straw.))

#tw violence #inscryption p03 #inscryption writing #inscryption oc

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 2 years

Note

Kiss prompts! I always wanted to get in on these. (And then I was immediately and completely paralyzed by choice, haha)

OOO, Date and Gotou, 13

Ahhhh 13 is stomach kiss and it is one of my favorites in that whole prompt list.

Shintaro gets out of his meeting and has about thirty seconds to see that he's got a lot of missed calls and an unexpected number of texts before his phone rings, and when he picks up Satonaka just opens with, "Date is probably asleep on your couch right now."

He stops dead in the middle of the hall. "Wait, right now? His plane isn't supposed to be in for another three hours."

"Oncoming hurricane. Would have delayed the last leg by at least a day. I made him sprint across the airport to get an earlier flight."

"So that's why I have..."

"Ten missed calls? Yes. He was very pathetic about you not being able to come get him."

"I'm sure he was." Shintaro sighs, but it's a sigh with a smile underneath it. "All right, thank you for the warning, I'll order dinner for us on my way home."

"Already did it, food should be arriving in an hour." There's an indescribably smug pause before she continues with, "Go home and pay attention to your boyfriend so he can stop texting me."

"Thank you, Satonaka."

"Go. Now. I just got another text."

Shintaro reads all of the texts, listens to the two voicemails, and then drives home wondering if he is going to find Akira asleep, or if he's awake and puttering around. Probably asleep, the jet lag's going to be pretty rough. Also Satonaka is generally right, and he'll continue to swear to that, because he's never sure if she might be listening.

He parks, lets himself into the apartment, and does indeed find Akira sprawled on the couch, snoring faintly, with a paperback novel open on his chest and the lamp shining directly on his eyes. Grinning, Shintaro leans over him to turn the lamp off--there's enough sunlight coming in through the balcony doors anyway.

Arms close around his waist before he can get to the lamp. "Heyyy, Shin-ta-ro," Akira mumbles. "I texted you a bunch."

"Yes, I read them. Satonaka also called me." Shintaro tries unsuccessfully to get free, stuck at an awkward angle with Akira holding him. "What are you doing."

What Akira's doing is, he's tugging Shintaro's shirt up out of the waistband of his pants, which is followed by a series of extremely stubbly, ticklish kisses pressed to his stomach. "Wanted to kiss you. This part's closest. Shirt was in the way."

"Jet lag's got you bad, doesn't it?"

"Nah, it's actually earlier there, mostly I'm just tired." More ticklish kissing, and then a perceptible grin. "Waking up now, though. Hey, you've been at work all day, you oughtta sit down."

Shintaro huffs, shifting back as much as he can so that he can look down at the suspiciously guileless expression on Akira's face. "You know you'll have to let go of me for that, right?"

Akira nods, says, "Sure I do," and entirely fails to release him.

"And also you're taking up the entire couch, where am I supposed to sit?"

Akira lets go of him with one arm and, with a gesture exquisite in its simple eloquence, points to his own face.

It takes an effort, but after only a moment or so of staring Shintaro says, as solemnly as he can, "I'm saving myself for marriage."

Beat.

Akira howls with laughter, which also causes his other arm to tighten around Shintaro's waist with such suddenness that he's nearly knocked off his feet. "I missed you. I knew you'd learn how to make jokes."

"I make jokes all the time, I'm just not usually that funny." Shintaro does a little bit of ineffective flailing. "Let go of me, please? Satonaka apparently ordered dinner for us and it's supposed to show up soon."

"What, you don't wanna scandalize the delivery guy? What'd she order?"

"Not especially? And I have no idea, she didn't tell me."

"Yeah, that sounds like her." Finally Akira lets go with the other arm and struggles upright himself as Shintaro tries to make himself look at least a bit less rumpled. "You think you might take me up on it later, though?" with a hopeful look upwards.

Shintaro blinks. "Take you up on what?"

Akira points to his own face again.

"Right. Uh. Right. That." Shintaro stares at him, feeling himself blush despite having been with the man for years now. "Yes, maybe later."

#date akira #gotou shintaro #satonaka erika #fanfiction #timetoddddavis

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donald4spiderman · 3 years

Note

Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spence #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM I

HELLION: A rowdy or mischievous person

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18 explicit content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @lovinglerae , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I’m so into this series that I even made moodboards 🤣 Don’t @ me 😂 I want to give a HUGE a thank you (and shout out) to @letsgivethisonemoreshot for helping me out with this entire trilogy! Thank you for your ideas and feedbacks, love ❤️ If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😘

“Miss Y/L/N” He greeted me “Sit down”

Father Damian was the school’s principal, and in the three short months since I transferred to this school, let’s just say I’ve spent a lot of time in a chair in his office

“Yes?” I faked a smile as I stared at him from the chair I was sitting on

“Can you explain to me what this is?” He showed me a piece of paper written ‘Satan rules! And fuck you, Principal Damian’ “And why was this taped to my car window?”

“I have no idea where that came from” I shrugged

“Miss Y/L/N, are we really gonna go down that path?” He pinched the bridge of his nose

“Why do you think that was me?” I pretended to be offended

“Because you’re the only student who has pulled stunts like this before”

“Maybe it was one of your perfect little students” I stood up and made my way towards his wooden desk and sat on top of it “You know, the ones who wear the pearl necklaces to show their purity” I laughed

“Miss Y/L/N, please refrain yourself from talking ill of the other students and return to your seat”

“Why? Because they’re pure, perfect and collected?” I slid across the desk and placed myself in front of him “Because they’re God’s children and I’m Satan’s spawn?”

“Miss Y/L/N” He warned

“Yes, Father?” I batted my lashes at him

“Ever since you stepped foot inside this school, you have done nothing but speak profanities, break the school’s dress code and make the lives of everyone in here a living Hell!”

“When have I spoken profanities?” I gasped, acting as if I was shocked

“You asked your classmate if you could caress her…. pussy!” He said through gritted teeth and I held back a chuckle

“And what’s wrong with that? She got a cat and I wanted to know if I could pet her”

“You asked another colleague if you could taste her melons!”

“She brought some with her for a snack and I love melons! Don’t you love them too, father?” I smirked

“What about the ‘BJ practice at 4pm behind the bleachers in gym’ sign you were caught hanging on the wall?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest

“What? BJ: Bible Jam, where we go over some hymns and try to set up a choir, since you don’t have one here”

“Is the choir for you ‘demonic pagan chants’ you love to recite in Latin to the other students?”

I just shrugged in response

He sighed “You’re turning nineteen years old next month, Miss Y/L/N! You’re an adult, so behave as such! The entire reason you were transferred here in the first place was because of your horrid habit of skipping classes, which caused you to repeat last year! How long do you plan on continuing that behaviour? Until you turn twenty years old, perhaps? My point is, how difficult is it to follow the rules? You can’t even follow a simple dress code, Miss Y/L/N!”

“That’s absurd!” I said with a huff “I follow the dress code impeccably!”

“By wearing revealing undergarments?”

“How do you know they're revealing if you're not looking, Father?” I smiled

“It’s a bit difficult to not see a red bra underneath a white shirt, Miss Y/L/N”

“So you do like melons then?” I laughed “Oh Father, is the Devil tempting you with the pleasures of the flesh?” I grinned evilly as I leaned towards him, revealing some of my cleavage

“You know perfectly well to not joke with unholy names, Miss Y/L/N” He gulped

“I love to swirl my tongue around the D word, Father” I whispered “Would you like me to show you how well it fits my mouth?”

“Miss Y/L/N, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into”

“I’m talking about the Devil, Father Damian” I cackled “But I see you have another D on your mind”

“You shouldn’t mock the Devil, Miss Y/L/N. It’s not wise” He whispered, placing both of his hands on my sides and trapping me on the desk

“I’m not mocking, Father. I think he’s quite fun actually...don’t you?” I tilted my head to the side

“All that is forbidden is fun, Miss Y/L/N” His fingers brushed against my exposed thighs “It’s delightful to commit sinful actions”

I was caught off guard by his behavior, I never expected him to actually respond to my flirting

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” He chuckled “Devil got your tongue?”

“Maybe” He placed one hand underneath the hem of my skirt and stroked my inner thigh “He told you that I saw your red lace thong when you bent down to tie your shoes in the hallway this morning”

I gasped in shock and he continued

“The Devil knows our weaknesses so well, doesn’t he, Y/N? He knows that my weakness is a devilish little slut like you, and he knows that your weakness is a holy cock” He laughed

“Father Damian” I gasped

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Wouldn’t you like to commit a sin with me? A delicious, rough, sweaty and lustful sin?” He leaned forward until he was uncomfortably close to me

“Maybe I can turn you into a good little lamb once my cock is buried deep inside your pussy” He nibbled my bottom lip “Would you like me to fuck the filthy whore out of you?”

“Father...I-“

“What is it, Y/N? Not so brave anymore, are we?” He chuckled “I thought you liked teasing, isn’t that what you’ve been doing with me for the past three months? Teasing me non stop with your bratty attitude and smart mouth? Do you think I’m dumb? That I don’t see your true intentions?”

“I-“

“No no no” He placed two fingers on my lips and whispered “Don’t speak” Father Damian turned around and grabbed a Bible from his bookshelf

“Do you know what the punishment is for the lustful people in Hell, Y/N?” He turned around and looked at me in the eyes while placing the Bible on top of his table

I nodded in response

“Enlighten me, then” He grinned

“Those who commit the sin of lust will be punished in Hell by being smothered in fire and brimstone, Father”

“Good girl” He smiled “I see you paid attention to your biblical studies class” He said in a mocking tone

“Don’t you think that sounds so appealing?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and reaching for the Bible

“No, I don’t” I whispered

“Yes, it is. Want me to show you how appealing it can be?” He smirked, opening the Bible

To my surprise it was a hollowed out Bible, inside of it there was a slim vibrator and a bottle of lube

“Why do you have-“

“Yes or no, Y/N?”

“Yes” It slipped out of my mouth so easily

He smirked and reached his hands underneath my skirt, soon after the sound of cloth being torn apart filled up the room. Father Damian kept his gaze locked with mine as he brought my ripped thong to his lips, his tongue darting out and licking the piece of fabric

“Sinners always taste so sweet, don’t they?” He chuckled

Grabbing the lube, he squirted some on his fingers and spread it through my folds, the cold feeling was soon replaced by a warm feeling I never felt before. He added some more lube to his digit and slid his finger in me

“Oh my God” I moaned at the warmth that filled me

He reached for the vibrator and turned it on, sliding the cold toy against my warm bundle of nerves

“Fuck” I shuddered at the pleasurable feeling

“Repeat the punishment for me, Y/N” He smirked

“Being smothered” I started and his free hand wrapped around my throat

“And?” He grinned evilly

“Fire” I whispered, as he squirted more lube directly onto my folds this time

“So much fire” He smirked, replacing his finger with the toy at the same time his grip around my neck closed

I moaned softly as all of the different sensations hit me

“Oh there she is!” He laughed “The sinful little whore” And sucked on my bottom lip “You love to come out and play, don’t you my sweet harlot?”

I just nodded softly

“I’ll give you something even nicer for you to play with, how does that sound to you?”

“Anything, just please” I pleaded

He smiled widely, like a predator. In my foggy haze of pleasure I hadn’t even realized what he meant by that

“Father, please” I moaned

He smiled at my pleading “Oh my dear Y/N, isn't it a real joy to be a sinner?”

#damian priest smut #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest x reader #damian priest imagine #damian priest #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes #resistere tentationem trilogy

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Note

hi baby congratulations on 300!!!🥳 i’m so glad to be here ! 💗🤍💗🤍✨⭐️

you know i’m obsessed w ur fics so, i am gently begging you to write something w prompts “can i paint your nails” “i’m going to steal this from you” and “people don’t compliment you enough” (sorry i forgot the numbers :( ) pleeeease? 🥺🥺

(sorry if it’s too much) thanks, i love u <3

It’s a Love Story

Summary: It’s senior skip day and you’re determined to pull your best friend of 10 years (and secret crush) out of his comfort zone.

Pairing: High School Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (but imagine Spencer is 18 so he is the normal high school senior age)

Content/Warnings: fluff, swearing, bullying

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: this fic is very self-indulgent because my senior skip day was yesterday! :)

Masterlist

“Hey, Spence! Wait up,” you jogged down the hall to catch up with him.

“Hey, Y/N. How’d your math test go?” Spencer asked.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” you groaned, “Thank you for trying to tutor me last night but I think I’m a lost cause at this point. It’s too late in the school year to care.”

“Did you know that ‘senioritis’ can actually be categorized as situational depression? In 2009, 22% of colleges decided to revoke some admissions offers after students began to slack off at the end of their senior year,” Spencer stated.

“Oh, trust me, genius, I may not be as smart as you but I’m not dumb enough to lose my scholarship to UCLA. I did the math out and even if I completely bombed this unit test, I can still maintain my A average,” you replied.

“I never said you weren’t smart, I was just warning you. I don’t want you to lose your spot at your dream school,” Spencer explained, “People don’t compliment you enough for all the hard work you put in to get accepted there.”

“Well, thanks for looking out for me, Spence,” you smiled, taking a seat in the back corner of the classroom.

Spencer sat right in front of you and turned around in his seat, “Do you have any homework?”

“Nope. My study hall is wide open just as expected. The teachers are losing just as much steam as the students,” you grinned, unzipping your backpack and pulling out nail polish.

“Can I paint your nails?” you asked.

“Y/N, don’t you think I get made fun of enough?” he whispered back.

“Girls love when guys paint their nails and if any guys try to give you shit, I’ll personally kick their ass. I took a self-defense course but I’ll use those moves I learned however I see fit,” you said.

“Fine,” Spencer relented, extending his hand out to you.

Spencer was honestly sold once you said that girls love it. That must include you, right?

“It’s purple too. Your favorite color,” you smiled, shaking the bottle up and then beginning to paint his nails.

Spencer thought it was cute that you picked up on his habit of sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth when you were concentrating.

“Isn’t it pretty?” you beamed as you worked on the second coat of polish.

“Yeah,” Spencer replied, not looking at his nails but the girl directly in front of him.

You gently blew air on his nails to dry them, “All done!”

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the teacher’s pet?” Brad, the captain of the football team, smirked as Spencer passed through the hallways after his math team practice ended.

“Wow, nail polish? And to think you couldn’t become any more of a loser?” he sneered as the jocks began to encircle around Spencer.

“Spence, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all over. Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” you walked right into the crowd of boys, paying no mind to them and grabbing Spencer’s hand, pulling him towards the exit.

“Don’t look back,” you whispered.

“You know one day your little girlfriend there is going to realize what a pathetic nerd you are. I’ll be ready to show her what a real man is,” Brad called after you.

“Oh yes, Brad, a real man goes to community college to hang on to the scraps of his mediocre football career that is his only reminder of when he peaked in high school,” you laughed.

“Y/N, he’s going to kill me for that,” Spencer groaned after you exited the building.

“Relax, we have three days left and then we won’t ever have to see that dick again,” you assured him.

“We have four days left,” Spencer corrected you.

“No, three because we’re not going in tomorrow,” you walked into the diner and took your seat in your usual booth, “It’s senior skip day.”

When Spencer didn’t respond, you looked up from your menu, “Spencer Reid, please do not tell me you were going to go in on senior skip day.”

“Why would I want to miss school?”

“Because you already know everything they could possibly teach you and you can spend the whole day with your best friend instead?” you fluttered your eyelashes to persuade him.

“I don’t want to go to the beach with all the popular kids. I’ll get shoved in the sand,” Spencer grabbed some of the fries that the waitress dropped off for you and popped them into his mouth.

“That is why we are going all the way to Santa Monica. We’ll just get up a little earlier and drive a little further but then we won’t run into anyone from our school,” you proposed.

“Fine but you’re driving,” Spencer huffed.

“Well, I’m certainly not letting the guy drive who hasn’t driven since he got his license just to prove he could pass,” you giggled.

“Why do I need to drive when my next-door neighbor can be my personal chauffeur?” he grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7 on the dot tomorrow.”

You honked outside of Spencer’s house. He came scrambling out with a big canvas tote bag, a tan sweater, and lilac swim shorts that ended at his mid-thigh.

“Get in, loser. We’re going to the beach,” you rolled down the window.

Spencer furrowed his brow for a second before opening the door.

“It’s just a reference to a popular movie. I wasn’t actually calling you a loser,” you assured him.

“My mom made us blueberry muffins for the ride,” Spencer pulled a ziploc bag out of the tote.

“Oh that is so sweet of her! Please tell her I said thank you. She must have been having a good night then,” you smiled, accepting one of the muffins from Spencer.

“Yes, she has been having a good week overall,” Spencer affirmed.

“That’s so great to hear. Okay, we’re stopping for coffee but then we’ll get on the highway.”

The opening notes of Love Story by Taylor Swift began to play on the radio.

“Oh my god! Turn it up!” you screamed.

Spencer grinned and turned the volume knob up.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess. It's a love story, baby, just say ‘yes’,” you sang.

You rolled down the windows as soon as you exited off the highway.

“Do you smell that, Spence?” you inhaled deeply, “Something about the salty air and sunshine just makes me feel alive.”

“You know it’s probably your increased exposure to the sunlight leading to an increase in vitamin D which can keep your energy levels up and enhance your mood,” Spencer stated.

“Well, whatever it is, I still love it,” you grinned.

You and Spencer made your way along the sandy coast. You parked in the beach parking lot and got out of the car, grabbing your mini cooler and chair.

Spencer grabbed the other chair and his tote and you headed down to the beach, walking a ways before settling on a spot in a less crowded area.

You took off your big t-shirt revealing your light blue bikini.

“Can we go in the water please?” you begged.

Spencer dug into his tote and tossed you a tube of sunscreen.

“Not until you put that on,” Spencer insisted.

“Fine,” you huffed.

“Sorry I don’t want you to be sunburnt for graduation,” he chuckled.

“Can you do my back?” you asked.

“I-um-yeah-yes I can do that,” Spencer scrambled to stand up from his beach chair.

His breath hitched in his throat as he applied the cool lotion to your back.

“All good,” he cleared his throat.

“Thanks, Spence! Do you need me to do your back or are you all set?” you asked.

“Nope, I’m all good. My mom did it before I left,” Spencer said.

“Can we go in the water now?” you pleaded.

Spencer gave a reluctant nod as you let out an excited squeal, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the tide.

You dove right into the cool waves, instantly relieving your body of the southern californian summer heat. Spencer was a bit more hesitant.

“It feels so good, Spence. Trust me,” you smoothed your wet hair back.

Spencer inhaled deeply and then sunk beneath the water as a wave passed by him.

“Yay! He’s actually having fun, people!” you cheered as he emerged from underneath the water.

Spencer playfully splashed water at you and you gasped.

“Oh Spencer Reid, you are so on,” you laughed, splashing water right back at him.

Spencer shielded it from his face with his hand and then started chasing after you. You shrieked in a giggle fit as he lifted you up in the water so you could no longer splash him.

“I surrender! I surrender!” you laughed along with him.

You and Spencer were walking on the basically deserted boardwalk by this time of night, licking your ice cream cones.

Spencer noticed you were shivering and pulled off his sweater, handing it to you.

“No, Spence. I can’t, then you’ll be cold,” you said.

“I really don’t mind,” Spencer insisted, wanting to have your scent on his sweater forever.

“Thank you,” you slipped it over your head, “I’m probably going to steal this from you because it’s super comfy.”

A reminder alert buzzed on your phone, “Oh shit. We have to sign up for tickets to go to prom by midnight,” you spoke.

Spencer shot you a guilty look.

“You’re not going?” you sighed defeatedly, trying your hardest not to tear up.

“Y/N, I don’t dance. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“And I’ll be right by your side making a fool of myself too,” you urged, “Spence, it’s going to be no fun without you. I was going to ask you to officially be my date, you know? I had this whole complicated equation that I was going to have you solve and graph and the line spelled out ‘Prom?’. It’s stupid thinking back on it now, I won’t make you go.”

“I was going to ask you,” Spencer smiled softly, “but then I chickened out.”

“How about this? You give me one dance right now and then we’ll decide if we’re going or not,” you opened your phone and started playing Dancing by Mellow Fellow.

Spencer extended his hand and you accepted as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You waltzed around the boardwalk in perfect sync as the neon lights from food stands and rides were shining down on you.

Spencer twirled you around and caught you in a dip. You let out a shaky exhale as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Please do. I’ve only been waiting 10 years for it since I moved in next door,” you smiled softly.

Spencer leaned down further and connected your lips. You pulled him even closer with your hands cupping his cheeks.

“I’ll go to prom with you under one condition,” he grinned, pulling away, “we go as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Absolutely,” you beamed and stood on your tippy-toes to give him another kiss that was long overdue.

A/N: i took a note out of my dear friend @samuel-de-champagne-problems ‘s book by naming the title after a Taylor Swift song

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #reid x reader #spencer x reader #cm fanfic #criminal minds #cm fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid one shot

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."

'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'

"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.

I spared a glance at the people around me.

I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.

I can't imagine what they must be going through.

Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

She looks up to me confused like I had pulled her deep out of her thought, upon seeing it was me she smiles thankfully. She put her hand over mine and gave it a few gentle pats and then a small stroke with her thumb to say thank you.

I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.

"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"

I looked down at my feet.

"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.

Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.

"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.

I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.

The boys smirked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.

"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.

The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.

'Serves them right.'

Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the growd and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.

"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.

As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.

I never liked him.

Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.

"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.

"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

I said goodbye to Lucas who had to follow his parents out, even though we would be seeing him later at the wake. I did the same with Mike, and soon enough Mom was waiting for us so we could get to the car.

"Mom, will you give me a minute?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.

I turned around wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.

Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Byers."

"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.

I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.

"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.

"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.

My eyes welled up.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.

Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.

Not to mention, I owe him for so much.

She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.

"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."

I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.

"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."

"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.

I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.

Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.

We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.

The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.

"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.

Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."

The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.

"How are you kids holding up?"

Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.

My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.

"We have some questions," Lucas added.

I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"

Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.

"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"

"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.

"Right, theoretically,"

"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.

"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.

The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.

I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'

"Well, basically, there are parallel universes. Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there's a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," I found myself nodding along, not for the sake of being believable, but actually lost in the idea.

"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.

"Oh."

"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.

Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.

"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"

"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"

"Theoretically, of course." I add.

"Well..."

Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.

"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."

He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.

"You can move forwards, or backwards. But, what if..." He drew a very small creature under one of the arrows. "right next to our acrobat, there is a flea? Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?"

"Right." We all agreed.

"Here's where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way... along the side of the rope." He drew arrows indicating the flea's direction around and under the rope, causing me to furrow my brows. "He can even go underneath the rope."

The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."

"Exactly."

Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."

"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."

"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.

"No."

"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"

"Well," Our teacher furrowed his brows, a thoughtful look coming upon his face. "you'd have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then..."

He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."

"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.

"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"

"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.

"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.

"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."

Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.

"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."

We all lean back, digesting the information.

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poisonousquinzel · 3 years

Note

https://lady-ha-ha.tumblr.com/post/160715688748/is-that-comic-before-the-reboot-and-which-one-is

(I have not read this comic) Is this true? (if so, ivy deserves someone better).

Post

Kay, first off both of those people are Jarley shippers so take everything they say with a grain of salt and then some, cause no. that part isn't about how much Harley loves Joker and will always choose him over Ivy. Literally you can tell ops don't know what they're talking about cause her whole thing in those issues is going to kill him for years of graphic abuse but ultimately falls back with him once she’s face to face with him.

Like wow, congrats on missing the fucking point again but not surprised from people who ship her with The Fucking Joker.

also, ffs, can anyone please have basic comprehension skills and realize that Harley and Ivy are both fucked up sometimes because they’ve got issues and that’s not comparable to Joker’s long ass history of graphic and disgusting abuse.

Harley and Ivy are villains, they're not a wholesome cookie cutter, White Picket Fence, super vanilla ship with no bad moments. They're both bad guys with a fuck ton of trauma that they both have to work through, and have done so at this point.

Gotham City Sirens was published between 2009 - 2011, Harley and Ivy weren't blatantly romantic at this point nor had they had anywhere near the development that they’ve had at this point.

Like don’t go into Harlivy content expecting them to be the perfect wlw rep with no flaws during their arcs from BTAS to current time cause that’s just not realistic. They’re both deeply flawed people who’ve got a fuck ton of trauma that they need to (and have) worked through.

I have talked about the BTAS issues here and this post is good at explaining them too.

Harlivy is not and has never been a purely wholesome, goody-goody ship. They’re messy, they have issues, and they have bad moments sometimes, but they both worked through their seperate trauma and came out stronger and better because at the end of the day, they care about each other.

Harlivy has messy, toxic moments sometimes, but they’re not, and have never been, abusive. There’s a difference between unhealthy moments and a ship being abusive.

That’s completely different to how Joker acts Constantly, because he does not care that his actions towards Harley are abusive, because he doesn’t give a shit about her.

He enjoys hurting her. He enjoys ruining her.

Jarley has always been intended to be written and shown as a domestically abusive relationship.

This is also the first instance where it's directly referenced that there's something more than platonic between her and Ivy, other than the reference in Batgirl Adventures.

Gotham City Sirens is also not connected to any verses.

This didn’t happen in the timeline we’re in rn with Harley Quinn (2014)/(2016)/(2021).

Comic timelines and shit are stupid and make everything more confusing and awful and I hate it sdfjdksksdkjsd

this is gonna be a long post since ops wanna just cut and paste random bits of the issues like jarley stans always do (cause jarley never has good moments that aren’t entirely surrounded by him abusing her) I’m going to show them in full context. *added a keep reading cause it is a lot

(All panels shown are from #15, #18, #19, #20, #21, #23, #24, #25)

So, Harley's entire thing at this point in the GCS comic in that she's been triggered by flashbacks of Joker's abuse and she breaks into Arkham with the intent to kill him.

The entire thing in these issues is showing her smarts and how she knows people's trump cards to get under their skin so she can break into Arkham.

She’s trained to identify these things in people and she's fucking good at pushing people's buttons.

this is also just one of my fav Harley covers so I wanted to show it jsdjksdks

“Trump cards. Everyone has one. Places where the armor we build around ourselves is weakest.”

She’s right. And it’s now shown that Harley’s willing to use those below the belt trump cards if she has to.

And frankly, I’d say this is worse than what she says to Ivy. And I’m not surprised she did it. She didn’t want to, she tried to get him to just open the door -

“Don’t make me do this, Aaron. There are some secrets that should stay hidden. Things you should never learn about your own life.”

but she’s also entirely fueled by rage and the desire to kill Joker. She came here for a reason and she’s not leaving until she’s done it.

“I’m going to kill you. For everything you’ve done to me. All the times you’ve made me feel useless and small. For all the times I will never forget. For all the things I can never forgive. All the memories -”

“Hello, Harley. I’ve missed you.”

“Memories. That’s all I have left. The past is gone and all I have is... memories.

Memories.

Memory.

Gone.

I guess I too have a trump card.”

“Oh, Ivy. You know exactly what my answer is going to be. But you’re hoping you’re wrong, aren’t you?”

She’s also right about this, they already mentioned this in #18.

“How did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re the one choosing a man over her girls.”

“Are you kidding me? You would never say that to Harley, and we both know she’d dumb us in a flat second if Joker called her.”

“Hey! That’s not fair-- Actually, that’s probably true.”

“The difference is, she can’t help it. You can. And she’s working on it. You’re not working on it.”

“Too easy, Ivy. Too easy. I know your weak spots. Now I just need to push.”

This is exactly what she’s been doing since the starting point of this post. She’s still in that mindset and she knows she can’t beat her on a regular battle field. Neither of them can.

“Like I said-- You beat me in any level playing field. But I don’t fight on those fields.”

Harley’s biggest strength as a villain is her ability to completely mentally stall her opponents and learn their weak spots. She wouldn’t win against the majority of the Big Bads if she didn’t fight on a different field than they are.

so, like yeah, out of context what she says to Ivy seems awful and completely screwed up, and it is, but it’s also built up really well and it’s completely in character for her at this point in her fall during these issues.

Is what she did fucked? absolutely. It’s not painted that it’s not.

Ivy Literally Goes To Kill Her For It.

In the end of this all three of them are recaptured by Catwoman and Batman and that’s where we’re starting off at again.

“Oh, Harley.

The only human I’ve ever called a friend.

To what lengths will I go? Where are my own limits? She is the Strangler fig. And I am the tree, choking underneath.

Without me, she could never grow.

But without her, I would fall if I grew too tall.”

“Will she ever stand by herself?

Will she ever be ready?

She is in throes of madness. She sees him, her brain flooding with adrenaline, it makes her excited, nervous, then the feelings start to fade, and she needs more. And more.

She sees it as passion. She sees it as love.

But it’s not. It’s addiction. And she’s relapsing.”

Ivy is well aware of the nature of their relationship. She’s not stupid and she’s been shown already to know that it’s something that takes time. It’s not a one off break up and it’s over. That’s not how abusve relationships work.

What do I do?

I could use my pheromones to alter her brain chemistry.

I could leave her behind abandoning her to the wilds of her own mind.

I could kill her right now.

Show her how red Nature can be.

There's one other option.

It would require patience.

Even love.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

"You have one chance to answer this."

I know, if she agrees, she'll be doing it for revenge. For him.

"She put us behind bars."

But maybe if I get away from this place, if I give her something else to think about. Maybe she can break the cycle. But it has to be her choice.

"I'm going to kill her. Come with me."

So yeah, it’s definitely not a just “Harley hurts her and runs off with Joker and it’s just a plain ol’ her choosing him over everyone and that’s that.”

Jarley shippers love to just reduce all her scenes and arcs down to their “epic love” and shit, but that’s taking away literally everything about her and reducing it down to the 3 panels that they’re “cute” in. Her arc in this part is fucking heartbreaking to read.

And Ivy damn well knows what’s going on with her. She’s smart and she’s the one that’s been there throughout all of this. She found her in the park after he shot her out of a rocket.

And she knows it’ll take time for Harley to get over and through his manipulation, that’s just how it works with abusive relationships.

But she’s also not forgiving at first, she’s mad and rightfully so, until she sees the sate of Harley’s cell and realizes how bad her addiction is at that time.

A lot of the unhealthy moments on Harley’s side when it comes to them are directly caused from the effects of being in an abusive relationship with Joker. Because she’s always in this area of her journey in those moments. She’s never fully over him or emancipated.

And that’s realistic. It’s hard sometimes to be friends with someone who’s in abusive relationships like theirs, having to watch them return to that person time and time again and it’s frustrating after a while.

I know from personal experience, it’s really hard to watch someone you care about go back or forgive someone that continues to hurt them.

But abuse victims desperately need a support system outside of their abuser. It’s a crucial part of being able to escape, because when they do try to get out they need someone there or they’ll literally have no where to go but back into their abuser’s arms.

It’s heartbreaking and it’s really rough for everyone effected, but that’s just how it is most of the time. Especially in their case, as they’re not just regular folk dealing with this.

If she doesn’t have Ivy, Harley has no one else to go to but Joker, on more than just an emotional level.

She’s lost her job. Her income. Her home. Her livelihood. Her everything.

Most of the time she has no other choice but to return to a life of crime after she’s released from Arkham because she can’t get a job, she’s a notorious criminal and she’s got a lot of issues that don’t just disappear with a bit of therapy.

She has no other choice but to return to Joker because the other alternative is the streets. At least she knows what to expect with him.

And that’s not even getting into the manipulation, gaslighting and degrading abuse that he drills into her constantly.

He’s made her believe she’s not anything without him. That she’s not smart or useful or anything.

And that’s why it’s so damn important for her to have a support system and why he’s so damn against Ivy.

Because Ivy is the good voice on her shoulder telling her he’s wrong and that she doesn’t deserve that.

And on Ivy’s side, she’s aware she gets very near cutting off all parts of her humanity.

She’s a plant goddess, she’s insanely powerful and she feels everything through the green. Frankly, she’s not even on the same playing field as these villains. She’s significanty more powerful than Harley and Joker.

Her connection to Harley is what keeps her humanity in tack, because despite everything, she does care about her. She was the first person she let in, the first person Ivy called a friend.

The person that was able to get through to her in #14/#15 when she was losing herself. The one that was able to get through to her that the dude was manipulating her.

“Ivy, I know you think you love this guy... but you’re just gonna end up strapped to his rocket!”

She had to knock her out for the dude to trust her / not attack them anymore. But Harley got through to her by mentioning how they first met in the park when she saved her after Joker shot her off in a rocket.

And Ivy is understandable turned off towards humans considering her origin and trauma around that.

She’s got a lot of trust issues.

But both of them work through their seperate traumas over the years because their affection for each other is stronger than the issues their trauma has given them.

and also, sometimes, they just have shit writers. that’s an issue overall in comic fandoms. Some writers just fucking suck at getting any of the characters right, let alone LGBT characters, who’re notoriously treated like garbage by DC.

#sorry if it came off a bit aggressive anon i don't mind ya asking <3 #ops just annoy me SDJSKSK #tw abuse #tw clown boy #long post #♦️ asks ♦️#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #poison ivy #pamela isley #harlivy #gotham city sirens #me? rambling in detail about Harley? yup yup

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

smoke and fire (09)

word count; 13,103

summary; following up a storm, there’s a crash on one of the highways, and things don’t always go as planned in rescue attempts.

notes; there is going to be some big realisations in this part. it’s angsty, but you’ll love it.

warnings; reference to death, panic attacks, car crashes, near-death experience, mild injury/gore reference.

“Holy shit..” You mumbled, staring out at the scene ahead of yourself on the intersection, Newt’s jaw dropped much like your own as you looked out at it all. Smoke curling up into the air, crushed cars and contorted metal with flames curling up. Blue sirens of other ambulances and firetrucks, the other side of the amalgamation of cars, and you stepped down from the ambulance in shock.

The call that had come over the alert ten minutes ago had been no joke, it was a true disaster, the no longer muffled wails of emergency vehicle alerts, the crying of people in pain, the workings of machinery and metal grating against metal to make you shudder in uncomfortable shock. The firetrucks of your own house pulled up next to you, the ambulance having the edge on this case as it was easier to weave through other cars along the highway, and the same look of shock was mirrored on all of their faces.

This wasn’t the first car crash you’d dealt with, far from it, but it was certainly the worst. Police and traffic wardens were beginning to divert traffic, all the lanes with cars moving in both directions being stopped, and you planted your feet tightly to the ground and wrapped your jacket more tightly around yourself as the strong and chilling winds that had been the cause of the accident came back to claim more victims. The females roared up, only encouraged by the howling winds, and you cursed under your breath at the cold.

An oil tanker had tipped over, blocking all of the lanes in both directions, broken fences from where it had tipped and cars had simply managed to smash into it and one another repeatedly as they tried to swerve, leaving the mixed wreckage of at least twenty cars littered across the tarmac. Bumpers, glass and framework, and there were too many pieces to began even starting to try and match them to smashed vehicles.

Opening your door back up and hopping back up into the warmth of the ambo’ cabin, Newt ran a hand over his hair, scratching at the back of his head lightly as he sighed, gaze scanning repeatedly over the sights before him, and Brenda bumper her hips against his as she came to stand next to him. Twisting the dials on the radio, you unhooked the speaker from the set screwed into the dashboard, bringing it to your lips and listening as it crackled.

“First responder dispatch centre, how can I help?”

“This is the paramedic of Firehouse ‘21, reporting to a call on the bridge entered-” Flicking your wrist up to take a look. “-eighteen minutes ago. Please notify all local hospitals to expect heavy patient incoming, various degrees of injury. Most likely to be expected is concussions, broken bones, burns and smoke inhalation, as well as various lacerations and punctures.”

“Noted, and the local hospitals will be informed. Thank you for your call.” The buzzing across the radios returned, static to fill the space as the call came to an end, and you hooked the material back up. Reaching backwards and behind your chair, you fished around for your bag, snatching it up in one hand and taking Newt’s with you, the man having paced away to stand with groups of firemen as they waited for their instructions.

This was yet another call that Vince would take control off, ready to discuss a plan with the other house Chiefs to come up with a plan of action, divide and conquer the scene before you all, everybody coming at it from another angle to handle it. Slamming the door shut and wrapping your arms around yourself tightly once again to shield yourself from the cold. Stepping along towards your partner, your cheeks were already beginning to sting from the low temperature, and you came to stand before him, handing him his bag.

“Thanks.” He took the pack from you, hanging it on his shoulder, just with one strap, and tucking his hands securely into his pockets, bunched up in fists for warmth. “You call it in?”

“Notified all hospitals in the area, and gave them a vague list of injuries to expect.”

“Good call.” He mumbled, and you tried to tune into the chatter you were hearing. From what you could gather, the Chiefs had all divided up the area into sections, a certain number of cars and rescues to make.

Three other teams on sight, one would deal solely with the tanker, neutralising oil and saving the driver from the cabin while making sure that the punctured and leaking tanker never met fire; arguably the most pressured job of them all as they struggled to fight off the looming explosion. The second and third team would split the cars on the other side, the morning rush who had all been heading into the city leaving far more casualties than those on your side who’d been heading the opposite way, and you would be left to deal with those on this side of the overturned tanker that was covering the entirety of the highway.

There was so much commotion and noise that you couldn’t even hear the racing of the waters underneath, despite the crushing strength of the icy water running under the bridge below your feet, the rumbling of it normally audible when it was this chaotic, right after a storm had hit, but it was overpowered today. You shook again, the chilling temperatures making everything that much more difficult, the knuckles in your fingers already beginning to go stiff with the cold weather.

“Alright, team. Listen up.” Your head snapped up as Vince spoke, his hands clapping together, rubbing for warmth before they were tucked back inside of his pockets, and you envied the heavy-duty jacket he already had on. “We have everything to the left of the overturned tanker. We are not - under any circumstances - to venture out of our zone. There is spilt oil, fires, and a lot of jagged metal. I don’t want to hear anyone telling other teams what to do.” He shot a pointed look to Gally, he scowled a little, everyone else chuckling and you supposed there was a story that you had yet to hear.

Vince continued on, commanding the firemen, but you and Newt were able to tune out as you were left to your own devices, the two of you turning in unison to explore the area with your gazes. There weren’t as many cars to be attended to as you suspected there were on the other sides, but it was still over ten, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth as you tried to establish where to start. There were groans of pain, calls for help, and your fingers wrapped around your bag handle as you gripped on and tried to steady your thoughts.

The most concerning of it all was the van on the edge of the bridge. Clearly spun out, the side was dented and scraped from the collision. The barricades on either side of the van were missing, torn and unstable as one of the front wheels hung over the edge, but it seemed reasonably stable, no wobble or shake to it, even with the howling winds.

“You wanna’ take that one?”

“Oh, no, that’s a treat for you.” You smirked, turning to look at Newt, and he rolled his eyes, holding out his fist and raising his brows. Matching his pose, you twisted to face him more fully, your fist landing on an open palm. “I can’t read you anymore. You used to suck at this game.”

“I have tactical skills now. It’s all about logic. I’m basically a Vulcan.”

“You’re basically a nerd.” You teased, and he scoffed, his good foot swinging up to kick you lightly enough in your shin that it didn’t hurt, but it still made you tremble as you tried to avoid it. He moved again, stepping towards you, and you shoved at his shoulder as you backed away. “Cut it out! I take it back!”

“Yeah, you better. Just for that, you’re taking the van!”

“Rock, paper, scissors!” You demanded, and he shook his head, turning his back on you and wandering away towards the car closest to himself, and you gaped at him a little, before turning back to analyse the van. It would no doubt need to be stabilised, and yet it was barely over the edge, but it was still concerning, and as you peered inside, you could pick up no movement, finding that there was an unconscious driver inside, if not unconscious passengers, too.

Turning back to find a fireman to help you, you jumped violently in shock at finding one directly behind you, your entire body jerking as you stepped back, and a familiar and raspy chuckle met your ears, held low to hide his brief amusement in a tense situation, and you scowled flashy up at him.

“Fucking hell, don’t do that!”

“I’m sorry.” He grinned, holding up a peace offering and apology that made your eyes widen. “I brought you a coat, so you wouldn’t get cold. Might restrict your movement a bit, though.” Thomas lifted the jacket up to sit over your shoulders, and you dropped your medkit to the floor, pushing your arms through your sleeves and wrapping it up tightly around yourself. For once, with the lack of any fires near yourself, you didn’t feel so overheated by the jacket, and instead comforted by it.

“Thanks, I was freezing, actually.” He only hummed, letting go of the lapels as you fastened it up at the front, pressing down the velcro seals but not bothering to zip it up in case you needed to remove it frequently for your venture. Grabbing your bag from the ground beside your feet again, you stood back up. He was staring at you, a soft smile on his face but there was uncertainty hidden behind it, and you hated that you were at fault for it.

You knew he was waiting for some kind of response to his actions of only a few days ago, the sweet touch of affection he had offered you after your visit to the vet. The dog was sitting happily and warm back at the station now, probably curled up on the couch, and yet you were standing here in the cold, trying to work out what to say to the man before you.

Your mind had been clouded these last few days, spinning with too many thoughts to process. Your job, your friends, the life you’d lived for the last half a decade as opposed to the one looking you in the eye now, and whether you were willing to let yourself open up to that change. You wanted to, you wanted to let them in and to know that you had a true place in this house, but with your track record it was hard, and you were unfamiliar with having a family so intense after years of being alone.

“I just need to think, okay?” Reaching out a hand when his shoulders slumped, he perked up a little as his fingers curled back around yours, loosely but enough to show he appreciated the gesture, and you squeezed gently. He nodded his head, licking over his lips, and while you knew that the look in his eyes was disappointment, there was also understanding. “I need your help.”

He took a sharp breath, his hand pulling back from yours as ‘Thomas’ disappeared and ‘Lieutenant Stephens’ took over. Jabbing a thumb over your shoulder, his eyes flickered to the van, brows furrowing a little.

“It’s my job to head into that van, and in the interest of being less reckless, I figured you’d want to hook me up to some ropes before I do.”

“The fact that you even consider going in there without any deeply concerns me, y’know.” You rolled your eyes fondly, shaking your head as he stepped back, but he was spinning on his heel to begin commanding his team. The Truck team were already spreading out across the space deemed to belong to your firehouse, and Newt was halfway inside of a slightly crushed car to reach a patient, while Thomas began to gather equipment and a team for the van.

Stepping over to said vehicle as you waited, you pressed your hand to the back of the van in a feather-light touch. Skimming your fingers across the cold surface of the backdoor, your fingers hooked under the handle, pushing down on the button and pulling the warped metal out, the door swinging open.

From what you’d been able to see through the windows along the side, there was no movement, but there was still hope to get a verbal response as you called out. The cabin remained silent, and you peered inside, finding only one person sitting within there, a driver slumped across the steering wheel, airbag deployed and beginning to deflate. You suspected lacerations and possible broken lungs, as well as a concussion and one hell of a headache when they woke up.

Pulling back, you rounded the car, peering over the barricade over the edge of the road and swallowing thickly at the height of the drop down into the river, the waters raging below you, and you checked the sights of the engine. You were no mechanic, and you couldn't tell much from the outside, but it didn’t look like the metal had crumpled too much, meaning you wouldn't have to cut away metal around his legs to get him out, making your job a lot easier if he wasn’t trapped under an engine that had been forced into the main vehicle compartment.

“Ready when you are!” Brenda was waving a harness at you as you turned to face her, and Minho was busy planting anchors in the ground. Enough to support you, the passenger inside, and the ropes that would be secured around the vehicle to hold it steady. The team were working quickly and efficiently, threading them through the tyres and around the van in various locations to keep it still while you crawled inside.

Taking the bundle of fabric from her, you dropped it to the ground, beginning to become familiar with these harnesses now, and you were certain you could get it on yourself. Pulling it up after stepping one foot into each loop, you eased it up your legs, tightening it at your waist and around each thigh, making sure that the straps were secure enough to reassure you.

“You’re going to have limited rope, alright? So, try not to get it stuck on anything, because we need a lot of these anchors, we’re going to have to stand far back and away from the cracking concrete to have any grip.

“How much rope is ‘limited rope’?”

“About three metres.” She winced, and you turned to look at the vehicle, a brow raising.

“Bren, this van looks about three metres if not more, can’t we get a longer rope?”

“We need all the rope we have for securing the van.” You knew she was right, there was more distance to be covered there, and it as important to keep both yourself and the passenger safe and secure, but it didn’t make it any easier to navigate the carbon and be able to move when you’d be tugging on a leash with no give. “Take a harness into the van, try to secure the patient inside of it. We’re getting another rope and anchor grouping set up, by the time you tend to them, we should be ready.”

“Gotcha.”

She grinned, holding up her palm flat, and you chuckled a little, before slamming your own hand against hers. It may have been a childish gesture, but something about the silly actions of high-fiving in support of one another had relieved just a little bit of the crippling tension looming over you both in the moment, and so as you grinned to one another, it was worth it. “You got this!”

“You bet I do.” You winked, hearing her let out an encouraging cheer, before she was hanging over the spare harness to you and walking away to take the end of your rope through all of the anchors and support set up to take the weight off of her. Thomas was working on another rope, giving you a simple nod as he watched you go, approval and encouragement you were sure, before you were placing your first foot onto the metal of the van, and then a second, climbing up and into the precariously hanging vehicle.

Once you were balanced within, both feet on the wooden backing of the van, you were left to try and navigate your way through the space. It was cluttered, work tools and plywood, all strapped down for security, and you were grateful to see that at least those restraints were intact; if they’d swung forward when this van had hit the railing, there was a likelihood they would have unbalanced the van.

Setting your bag and the spare harness down on the passenger seat the driver was still strapped in, and as you took another step forward toward him, the breath was forced from your lungs, the harness pulling tight around your stomach as the rope ran out, going taut through the anchors and giving you no budge.

“You okay in there?”

You turned back to look at Chuck, his eyes scanning over the inside of the van, bright eyes and flushed cheeks as his curls blew around his face in the breeze, and you nodded. Looking over the man before you, your fingers took his chin gently, tipping his head up to sit straight instead of at the uncomfortable angle it had fallen to lay at, and checking for a pulse in his neck. It was weak, and his breathing was shallow, but it was definitely there.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You can grab a neck brace and the board from the ambo’, I don’t think this guy is waking up anytime soon.” Chuck nodded, moving away to gather the supplies you’d listed off to him, the heavy sound of his boots scuffling on the tarmac fading out as you focused on the man before you. There was a nasty graze across the side of his neck, a fleshy burn from the friction of his seatbelt against his skin, but he could simply be glad he was wearing it, because otherwise, he would have gone through the windshield.

The airbag was going down, and you pressed onto it, the hissing of air sounding out as you pushed it to help it deflate, giving you more space to work with, and see what you were doing, trying to reach across his body as you waited for the fabric safety precaution to reside.

His nose was bleeding and it was swelling with purple bruises under his eyes and across his cheeks, a broken nose that was bad and would need professionally resetting, but that was the only initial examination that you could do with your limited range of motion.

Tugging a little on your rope again, and hoping it would offer a little more give, you were disappointed as it held strong, trying to work out how to get closer to the patient, to be able to properly reach him, and start examining him for the further injuries you suspected he might have.

“Okay, I got the brace and the board.” Chuck was panting slightly, lugging both pieces of equipment, the support like a surfboard under his arm as the padded brace swung in the other hand, and you chuckled. “Alright, set the board down, I’m not sure how I’ll get him into it, but you can tell Brenda we aren’t going to need the spare harness, he’s out cold. I’ll trade ya’.” He nodded, placing the board down on the ground and letting the brace follow.

Picking up the edge of the fabric you’d left with your bag, you shifted, swinging it over your shoulder and the van rocked a little at your sudden movement, your blood running cold, but it stopped after only a moment as the ropes that the Squad team had set into place held it steady; Chuck’s eyes as wide as yours. “Maybe no more sudden movements, then?”

“I think that’s a good idea, kid.” You grinned a little, trying to reassure the young candidate despite your heart leaping into your throat with fear. “Now, pass me that neck brace, nice and gentle. Roll it cross the floor.”

He did as told, tucking the straps in carefully and pushing it down the slight slope of the van, watching as the plastic rolled unevenly across the floor before getting wedged behind the passenger seat, stuck just underneath it, but the bright yellow plastic was still partially visible. You reached, the straps around your waist restricting your movements and digging into your flesh, almost to a painful degree, and your fingers brushed over it, but you couldn't grab a hold of it.

“God, I can’t do anything on this freakin’ leash.”

“Oh, please don’t do what I think you’re going t-” You ignored him, fingers working over the latch on the carabiner that was keeping you secure, and you felt the tension around your waist give way from the second that it was unhooked. “You terrify me, do you know that? Do you have no concept of danger?”

“There is no danger, Chuck, I’ll be fine.” Clipping the band onto one of the poles in the headrest so that you could reach it again easily, you stripped off your coat to give you more flexibility, and left it in the footwell of the seat you currently resided next to. “You guys got this van all roped up, and it’s right there. I just need to be able to move if I’m going to save this man’s life.”

You rubbed sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants to dry them off, your first call was to unzip your bag, and to locate a pair of sanitary gloves, before interacting with him at all. Once the plastic covers were sealed over your hands comfortably, you were settling into a slightly uneven passenger seat to get a better look at him.

Ideally, you really needed the seatbelt out of the way, but in his unconscious state, doing that would probably make the man fall forwards, and so you tried to work around it. Pressing your fingers gently along his chest under the unmoving strain of a locked safety belt, you pressed for hard patches, finding none under your fingers, breathing a sigh of relief as you found no external signs of immediate internal bleeding, muscles tense but skin not having hardened up.

Moving up to his eyes, you lifted one eyelid open, finding the keyring on your bag and unhooking it, flashing the small torch across his eyes, and watching for any pupil reaction. It was fast, an immediate reaction that was impressive and reassuring, and everything about the situation with the man in the truck was looking up. He was incredibly lucky. You were progressively growing more confused, however, as to why he was so heavily unconscious when so little seemed to be wrong.

Even the nerves in his legs were twitching when given stimulus, suggesting that he didn’t even have any kind of paralysis or delayed response time. His body seemed to be handling the shock and the adrenaline exceptionally well, and he should be awake.

Reaching under your seat, you leaned forward, finding the brace and tugging it out, brushing it off and undoing the velcro seals that Chuck had put into place as it rolled, the ripping down of the two sides separating filling the cabin.

“Chuck, time for you to go and grab another fireman, I’m going to work out how to get him loaded up onto a board, and out to you guys.”

“I’m on it.” He gave you a salute, an ‘aye, aye, sir’ following it, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, a heart of gold in the kid for being able to find amusement in the situation. You assessed the situation, ready to try and get him out of here, so that you could follow swiftly behind him, not wanting to be caught in the metal box any longer than necessary. Once you had him out and being carried to the ambulance, you could properly tend to his wounds.

You’d need to put some disinfectant on the raw skin where his seatbelt had been, clean up his nose, and do a more thorough bodily exam to confirm your results but as far as you could see, there was no harm in moving him. There was only the trouble of getting him onto the board by yourself, in such a cramped and awkward position. Sweeping your eyes over the vehicle for anything to help, you scanned the chair, raising a brow, and twisting to look at your own.

It took a moment, but your suspicions were confirmed, a handle on the outside of the chair near the door was present, to adjust the angle that the chair was sat at. Testing it, you reached around your seat, pushing the handle down and feeling the chair spring forwards, the wrong directions, and you huffed. Instead, you tried pulling up next, and it began to retract. The more you inched the chair backwards, the further it went, never reaching a limit as it sat halfway flattened, a good bet that the driver’s seat would do the same, and it was the best option you had so far.

The door on the other side was a little more battered, the metal warped in, and as Chuck returned with Thomas by his side. He took a single look over the cabin, before his eyes were widening, and then narrowing on you.

“Did you take off your harness?”

“No!” You moved, kneeling a little, half between the man's chair and half on the passenger as you hooked your thumb under the edge to show him. “I just undid the rope so that I could move around and actually do my job.”

“Are you insane? Do you have absolutely no concept of danger?” Thomas hissed, and you stuck your tongue out at him, moving to get a better look at the gap between his chair and the door, and whether you were going to be able to get your hand to the lever.

“That’s exactly what I said!” Chuck agreed, and you sighed at the pair of them.

“Put your rope back on, right now, or else-”

“Or else what, Tommy? What are you gonna’ do, huh?” You paused, raising a brow at him, and his jaw snapped shut. “You gonna’ come in here and make me? Unbalance the van with all your stomping around as you wrestle me back onto the rope? I think not.” His lips flicked up at the sides, lips rolling together to contain his smile, and his head ducked, but you didn’t miss the quiet chuckle he let out. When his head lifted, however, the amusement was gone, and that same endearing concern was back, making you sigh. “You got this whole thing hooked up with wires, I’m perfectly safe. I trust you.”

He swallowed thickly at your words, nodding his head, before his shoulders slumped a little. “Alright, fine. So, you got a plan or what, sweetheart? Because I don’t see how you’re going to get him onto that board alone, so maybe I will have to come in and wrestle you back into your ropes anyway.”

“Oh, ha ha.” You scoffed, adjusting yourself to be able to reach, and wincing as the screeching sound of metal and the slight wobble at the uneven weight distribution toward the driver’s seat brought back unsettling memories of your time in the elevator month’s prior. “I’m going to lower the chair back, and loosen his seatbelt as best I can. We can wiggle the board under him slowly, I’ll get the neckbrace on him, and push him up far enough for you to drag him the rest of the way.”

Thomas chewed on his bottom lip, nodding slowly as he thought through, and watching as you moved to lean over the man. Your hand was pressed tightly between the side of the chair and the metal as you worked your way down, blindly searching by touch for the lever you needed, and finally, you squeezed your fingers over the handle, but barely able to move to pump it and lower the chair carefully. “No sudden movements, okay? I don’t want any extra stress on those ropes.”

“No sudden movements, I promise.”

You flexed the handle, the chair lowering by an inch, maybe a little more, and you kept it up, your arm beginning to ache from the angle you were working at already, but with each squeaky sound, his chair was lowering more and more, straightening his spine out carefully as he lay down, your other hand resting against his forehead delicately to keep his head straight.

As he was lowered further and further, you pumped the chair as far as it could go, getting his body as streamlined as you could, and you were already making progress with him. Chuck was ready, holding the board up for you, and you nodded your head, letting go of a tense breath and leaning back to rotate your arm slowly to ease the cramp that was building in the muscles and tendons of your shoulder.

Shifting between the seats, and standing hunkered over as not to bump your head against the roof, you positioned yourself before him, Thomas holding one side of the board for stability, and Chuck on the other, watching for your advice silently. Cupping his head carefully, glove covered palm under the back of his skull to keep him steady, you lifted his head forwards just slightly, holding him still and curling your fingers in a motion as though to say ‘come hither’, and the board inched forward.

As the plastic came into your peripherals, you reached out, guiding it to rest on the fabric of the chair under his head, pressing in until they reached the junctions of his shoulders, and then they stopped. Your palm was held up flat to them in signal, and while it would have been just as easy to talk, something about breaking the tense silence felt wrong, as though it would disturb the concentration you all had going.

Supporting his head still, you moved your other hand to lift his shoulders up, grunting a little at the added weight and strain on your arms in the less than ideal position, but it worked. With each wiggle and shift, they got the board a little further down under his body, sometimes stopping when it got caught on the safety belt or his clothing, but otherwise being completely successful. As the board bumped the backs of his legs, still bent over the seat with his feet pressed to the floor, you placed his head down, facing a whole new challenge.

“What now?”

“I need you to get in here with me.” His face deadpanned, and you grinned, the blank look on his face amusing you. “Relax, not right up here with me. I just need you to pull him upwards very slowly onto the board while I adjust him. Once he’s on the board, I can strap him securely, and get the neck brace on him. You guys get him out, I get out of this death trap, and I see some other patients.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Try to keep his head still, okay? We don’t want him getting any more injuries that we could have prevented.” Thomas only nodded in conformation, before he was stepping up, the van wobbling a little as he did, and he lowered himself down to one knee.

Reaching over the man, and inching two thicker-gloved hands under his shoulders, finding it harder to get a grip than you did in just your rubber gloves. He didn't move, though, waiting to be told to do so as you unclipped his seatbelt, the material slinking away across his body and back into the holder. Just as you prepared yourself for the neck brace, turning back to the passenger seat beside it, you watched his head roll to the side, cheek pressing into the fabric limply.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Thomas' voice raised a little, insistent he hadn't, and you fixed him with a questioning look. “I swear!”

You didn’t get a chance to question him, before a loud gasping was sounding in the van, followed by a groan that bounced from the metal walls of the van, and his eyes were snapping open. Everything was still for only a moment, and you tried to process your words, mind spinning and you didn't have a chance to think before he was sitting up roughly, the car rocking with his movements, and he let out another agonised noise at the motions.

“Sir, I need you to rel-”

“What happened?” His head whipped from side to side, face screwing up before he was wincing, and the blood that had dried on his skin from his nose was soon replaced by a fresh gush of red, dripping over his lower lip and along his chin as he panicked. Sitting up further, the car rocked, and his hands flew out, gripping onto the edge of the van for stability. “What the fuck happened?”

“(Y/N), put your ropes back on!”

Your head snapped up to Thomas, his eyes wide as he pointed to the rope you still had clipped to the opposite chair, and you nodded your head at the precarious rocking of the vehicle. A hand grabbed your wrist, jerking roughly in fear as your attention was brought back to the man, and there was another shout of your name from Thomas, falling on deaf ears as the pleas of your patient drowned him out;

“Are we over the river?”

“I need you to calm down for me, okay, can you do that?” You tried to place a hand on his shoulder, to stop the moving that he was doing, but the whole vehicle groaned under the pressure, the sound of snapping and crumbling concrete making itself known, and then came a tearing, a loud banging against the side of the van, and Thomas jumped a little as he backed out of the van to peer over the top.

“What was that?”

“(Y/N) put your damn rope back on, now!”

“What was that, Thomas?” Your voice raised, demanding again as the vehicle swayed and you struggled to remain upright, his jaw clenching and nostrils flaring.

“One of the support wires snapped, the movement is too much, it can’t take the weight.”

“The supports are snapping?” The patient sounded more panicked than either of you, and the grip that had been almost bruising around your wrist was released, your hand snatched back to your chest as you gripped it supportively. That same large hand landed on your shoulder, a brief push as he struggled to his feet and pushed past you in a haze of blinding fear and adrenaline, the vehicle moving violently as he tried to clamber his way on shaky legs from the van.

You fell, the pressure from his push making you stumbled and your legs caught on the edge of the passenger seat chair, your body falling backwards and head hitting against the dashboard, shoulder landing on the handbrake and a sharp shock of pain ran along your entire body at the feeling. The sounds of your team members shouting at you, at the patient, at anyone else all became muffled for a second as your ears rang at the collision, your eyes squeezed closed, and you forced yourself to take a deep breath in and out as you processed the pain and tried to suppress it to be dealt with later.

The car came to a steady rest, no longer moving so aggressively but simply swaying, and you tried to adjust yourself carefully to be able to sit up. Thomas and Chuck were watching, with no sight of the patient, and both of them relaxed a little as you came into view.

“Is he alright?”

“Is he alright?” Thomas seethed, and you blinked a little to clear fuzzy vision as you focused on your surroundings. “That idiot almost just made this van tip. He ran off to find Newt, I assume. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just a little achy.” You muttered, the understatement seeming to make the throbbing in your shoulder seem worse. “It’s not his fault, he was in pain and confused, he wasn’t thinking clearly, it’s not his fault, Tommy.”

His anger didn’t seem to die down at all, but his resolve broke, and he choked back whatever he had to say, shaking his head. “Can you reach your rope? We need to get you out.”

You regretted using the passenger seat as your test for the lever one, because even at the most outstretched your arm could get, you still couldn't reach it from here without moving. Shifting up onto your knees, the van jerked again, tilting a little further as a sound of metal on stone so piercing it made your stomach churn and body shudder sounded out, another lurch forwards, another wire giving way, and you still couldn’t reach your rope.

“No! No, don’t move! There are two wires doing four wires’ job right now. Please, just stay still. Let me think of another way to get you out, just give me a minute, I can do this!”

Thomas’ voice was frantic, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as well as him, knowing that while he was all worked up, his mind wasn’t going to be clear at all. “You need to relax first, you’re going to work yourself into an anxiety attack.”

“Relax? You’re hanging over a river in an unstable van that could go at any moment! How could you possibly tell me to relax?”

“Thomas!” His head snapped up, eyes wide, his gaze steady as his eyes found yours, and you watched his shoulders loosen a little. “Please, just take a breath. I need you to not be Tommy right now. I need you to be my Lieutenant, okay?” He nodded, forcing himself to take a deep breath despite how shaky the inhale was, and letting it go slowly.

“Yeah. You’re right. Okay.” It was like watching him shift into a new person before your eyes, a single deep breath, before he was letting out a sigh, and he stood up from his hunched-over position to look around the area surrounding you both outside of the truck. He let out a ragged sigh, trying to steady his own nerves, and you were struggling to do the same, feeling you the rushing of blood inside of your ears was almost deafening as your heart pounded, palms growing sweaty.

Distracting yourself, you peeled off the rubber gloves, fixing flexing when they were free of the latex, and you tried to control your jitters. The van was tipped at an uneven angle now, and as you leaned forward, it wasn’t much of a strain to catch sight of the raging river below. The river was raging, the normally calm and steadily flowing waters were trampling anything in their path; branches, twigs and debris jostled in the rolls of water as the storm floods were washing away all the broken branches and eroded concrete it had created, the barriers up the side almost flooding over as the heavy rainfall you’d had was drained away.

One thick blue rope was pulled to its maximum tightness around the front of the vehicle, caught against the car’s metal insignia across the front, and some of the strings were beginning to snap, one thread of cotton at a time coming loose.

“Hey, Lieutenant?” He ducked back down, eyes wide as he stared at you, cocking a brow in silent questioning. “Not to rush you or anything, but that last rope is fraying, and I don’t think it’s going to-”

The van screeched against the concrete, dragging forwards a little more, and the sound of several voices suddenly shouting filled what had only a second ago been reasonably calm quiet. You couldn't pick out a single voice, it was a calamity of panicked yells and commanding orders, and Thomas had disappeared from the end of the van, leaving you entirely alone.

It wasn’t a feeling you liked, sitting in a metal tin as it rocked unevenly, the sounds of the tearing rope becoming louder and more common, the more strain put on fewer threads was speeding up the rate at which the rope was giving way, and there was a burning in the back of your throat as tears threatened to burn.

You sniffled, cursing yourself for being on the verge of tears when you had bigger priorities right now than crying, but you couldn't help it. You were terrified, you were facing a drop of twenty feet while trapped inside of a van, into water that would be well below zero in temperatures, travelling at speeds you’d never be able to kick your way to the surface within, and it was overwhelming.

A gasping breath, and another one, before your eyelids were growing heavy and as you shut them, you felt tears begin to leak free. You were barely balanced in the passenger seat, your legs aching and muscles tensed as you tried to hold yourself steady at the uneven angle, and parts of your body were growing numb as the dull pain became overwhelming.

“How ya’ doing in there, (Y/L/N)?”

You couldn't help the weak laugh that you let out, wiping at your cheeks and looking up to face Thomas, his eyes flickering over with concern, but he kept his emotions steady, handling this much better than you were; but then again he wasn’t the one hanging over the edge of a bridge. “You know, just hanging out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can still make puns.”

“Oh, I’m loaded with them, ready to drop at any time.” You insisted, silently thanking him for the fact that he was overlooking the tears still running down your cheeks and the wobble of your lower lip, instead just offering you a chuckle at the ironic words you had spoken. “So, how’s that rescue plan coming along, or are you just planning to leave me in here? Just when I thought we were getting over our issues..”

“Well, this would be a pretty convenient way to solve all of that.” He grinned, and you wiped your cheeks clear, skin stinging from the hot salt. “We’re just going to get some new anchors into the floor. If we can get a stabilising rope around this van then we’ll send someone in to get you, okay? Just keep holding on for me, you’re doing great, an-”

You squeaked a little at the tremor that shook the vehicle, your eyes going wide and Thomas’ words dying in his throat. That preamble seemed to be the warning, because only a second later, the van was jerking again, another foot or so over the bridge and the back wheels were almost over the edge now too.

Your body fell forwards, side colliding with the edge of the dashboard, ribs flaring up with pain and your leg twisted a little as it was caught in the gap between the chair and the flooring. The van was almost perpendicular now, you were pressed to the glass, the board you’d intended to lift your patient out on had slammed into the glass and it as fracturing in one corner, and despite the fear you had expected to be racing through you at this point, you felt an unsettling wave of calm.

The voices outside were louder, the two ends of frayed rope hanging by the passenger windows, destroyed and useless, and you swallowed thickly, pushing yourself up a little bit and trying to gain your bearings, a headache forming behind your eyes from the stress and the panic bubbling inside of you, but crying no longer felt appropriate.

“Hey, Tommy, are you still there?”

“I thought you wanted Lieutenant?” He sounded about as stressed as you felt, and you could no longer see him, all of the weight being held on the rope that Brenda was supposed to be holding for you, and you had no doubt that she must be under immense pressure on the other end of the machinery to hold it steady, but the thinner ropes designed for you weren’t going to hold very long.

“Yeah, but now I want Tommy.” You mumbled, knowing that he couldn't hear you, and you tried to sort through your thoughts. “I’m scared.”

“I know. But I have a plan, alright? You’re just not going to like it.”

“I can’t say I’ve been all that fond of any of your plans, if I’m honest.” He gasped, a false sound of offence echoing around the cabin, and the weight on your shoulders lifted a little. “You can’t be all that surprised. So far, you’ve had me crawling between buildings on ladders and abseiling into elevator shafts that were dropping. It would seem that me and these harnesses just have some bad luck.”

“Yeah, well, if you’d stayed on your rope both of those times, you’d have been just fine.” He teased, and you scoffed at his statement, knowing that there was an air of both truth and falseness about it. “I’m going to lower another rope down to you, and you need to clip it to your harness, alright?”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“Yeah, but then comes the scary part.” He was trying to sound brave and you knew it was for your own benefit, but you were seeing right through him. “I need you to hold still and let the van drop away. We’re going to cut the rope, and the vehicle is going to drop out from under you. We can’t get any more anchors in the tarmac because of the cracks, so we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way.”

There was a rope being lowered, and the glass underneath of you cracked a little bit more as you reached for it, fingers brushing against the metal of the carabiner, and you felt relief flood through you at simply having it in your hands. Your fingers worked over the catch quickly, unscrewing it to be able to hook it onto the front of your harness, and making sure that you did it up as tightly as you possibly could with the trembling you currently had. Tugging twice on the rope, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, we’re going to cut the final wire, and you need to slide between the front seats before we do. Don’t try to climb, you’ll unbalance the van and it could drag you over the edge with it.”

Your body tensed as you stayed still, daring to shift fractionally to press your feet to the cracking glass underneath you, and it splintered even more, chips beginning to fall away as it threatened to break entirely. “I’m ready.”

It was a lie, a blatant, stone-cold lie, and yet you knew it needed to be done. Only a second after you’d said it, the ground underneath your feet was falling away, the already unstable vehicle tumbled forward with a groan, and your eyes squeezed shut. The breeze it created as it passed you by, the spray of water that came up from the almost deafeningly loud crashing it made as it hit the surface of the icy waters, and ten you were swinging.

Dangling precariously over the edge, the muffled shouts of everyone above seeming like white noise as you tried to focus on simply holding off the upcoming panic attack that was bubbling within you, the droplets of cold water on your cheeks a direct contrast to the tears that were leaking free. You felt nauseous, a hand coming down to cover your stomach as the other cupped over your mouth, a precaution as you felt your gut twist into knots at the way your centre of gravity was spinning.

It was the same way that your stomach would flip on a rollercoaster as it shot down a steep cliff, but continuous and without the rush of thrill, each jerk in the rope as you were tugged a few inches back up towards the surface making more adrenaline surge through your body to drown out the screaming fear that was threatening to consume you.

You waited, simply trying to catch your breath, trying not to let the stress get to you any more than it already had, and as the edge of the crumbled and broken concrete came into sight. The tips of your fingers were stinging and sore as you scrabbled against the stonework of the road pulling yourself up until you were on your hand and knees, head hanging, and head pounding.

It was all too much, your body feeling weak and your mind buzzing as you thought over it all, and the flashing lights around you were almost blinding, but it reminded you of where you were. You reached out, a hand wrapping around your own as you were pulled to your feet, and the flushed face of the man who’d saved your life was standing before you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You whispered, and he chuckled, using his teeth to pull off his glove and drop it to the ground, before a warm palm was closing over your cheek. The other soon followed, thumbs wiping away tears you had forgotten were even present, and you sank a little into his touch as he held onto you. “You have a job to do, Lieutenant.”

“I can spare a second to make sure you're okay.”

You nodded, sniffling a little, and shaking your head free of his grasp to wipe at your cheeks yourself. There was enough adrenaline racing through you right now to give you the power to fight a pissed off bull, your entire body jittering from head to toe, and you could barely think straight. “Really, Thomas, I’m fine.”

He stiffened slightly, and you knew you were shutting him out, but you couldn't help it, you’d been so scared in the moment, and yet, it hadn't been alone. You were scared because for the first time you could remember in your career, there were people who cared about you, and that had somehow made it all the more terrifying a prospect. You’d never had so much to lose before now.

“I should get back to work.”

The silence felt weighted as it hung between you, and your arms wrapped around your body at the chill of the winds that were sweeping over. You knew he hated the change of topic that you’d made, he was reaching out to you once again, and you were too afraid to return it. “I think Newt is just about done here, why don’t you head back to the ambo’ and get him to patch you up, instead.”

“Thomas..”

“I have a team to run.” His voice was firm again, and you felt locked out. You knew you’d messed up, you had done it to yourself, but you hated that he was disappointed in you. It was an unfortunate turn of events, something unexpected that made everything seem like a risk, and yet you weren’t used to having people who cared around you, to feeling like such a close-knit member of a team that it would affect them all so deeply.

He was walking away from you, a frown on his lips, and you wanted to reach out, but you didn’t know how to.

You turned away yourself, regretting the action as you did, and you wanted to glance back over your shoulder, but you knew he was angry. Still, it didn’t help the pain you felt, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, and every step you took away from him with bad blood still sitting heavy between you made you feel like you were wading through wet concrete. It was odd, how only a few months ago this kind of arguing had been the usual between you both, and yet now, it made you feel like you could barely breathe, a weight sitting on your chest.

You couldn't take it. “Thomas!”

When you turned, he was glancing back over his shoulder, face sitting neutral and a single brow raised as he waited for you to keep speaking, but as you took further steps towards him, his face softened a little further. He turned to face you fully, eyes widening a little and his jaw dropped to ask you what was wrong, but he didn’t get a chance. A soft sound left him as your body collided with his, your face pressing into his chest as your arms circled his waist, and his breath was rushed from his lungs at the impact.

You didn’t know what to say, and so you didn’t say anything, because, after a moment of shock, he seemed to silently get the message. His head boxed, his arms wrapping tightly back around you as he pulled you up to his height, his head bowing as he held you just as securely as you were holding him, and you let the tension in your body slip away for a second, to let him hold you up.

“We’re okay, I promise. As long as you’re okay.” You barely caught his words, mumbled into your hair, and it took you a second to process them but then you were nodding, and pulling yourself even closer to him in that moment. He was warm, and comforting, and now that you were actually holding him, everywhere he wasn’t touching felt cold.

His arms loosened around you, coldness sweeping in around your hands as he moved, and you stole a further second in the embrace, before his arms were falling away fully, and you were letting him go. His jacket was shucked down his arms, his eyes flickering over your face slowly before he was lifting the heavy jacket up and wrapping it over your shoulders, pulling it tightly around you, the fabric already heavy with heat and comfort he’d created.

He waited as you pushed your arms through the sleeves, a hand closing over your hand, thumb brushing over your palm as he held it up, your skin littered with grazes and raw flesh from the broken concrete you had climbed over. “Go and get cleaned up, alright?”

It felt easier to walk away now, his gaze hadn't been so harsh and his smile was burning into the back of your mind as he turned from you again, jogging over to join Minho and Fry as they were using the cutters to pry open the metal on the side of a car that had become quite contorted as it had roughly collided into another. Newt was already waiting for you, tinkering around the back of the ambulance as he waited, and when he turned to find you at the scuff of your shoes on the floor, the scowl on his face melted away, only to return a second later with much more power.

“You took off your damn rope?”

“I couldn't reach the patient.” You whispered, a growl leaving his lips, and as he hopped down from the vehicle, wincing a little at the sudden pressure on his leg but ignoring it to walk over to you, your body tensed up. You were prepared to be yelled at again, to be chastised by your friend, and your walls were shooting back up in protection.

“I was scared. Don’t fucking do that. That’s not what ‘bestest friends in the whole wide world’ are supposed to do, okay?”

You couldn't help the relieved laugh that bubbled from you, your head shaking a little as he stood before you. “Yeah, well, it’s not official until you get it stitched on a t-shirt for me.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll get an extra-large one. You and Tommy can share it.” He was smirking now, tugging at the jacket you had wrapped around yourself, and you flushed with heat, but didn’t flinch. Instead, you wrapped it a little tighter around your body, like a piece of armour, and smirked back.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn't you?” He scoffed as you walked past him, hopping up into the ambulance to reach for the med bag of his that was sitting on the floor, and he took it from your grasp, a hand on your shoulder as he pushed you back to sit on the stretcher.

It went quiet after that, as he held each of your hands up one at a time, mumbling apologies as he wiped disinfectant over each twisting fingertip, and cleaning the small cuts and scrapes across your palms. You had torn nails with dirt stuck underneath, and he took his time to file them down gently so as not to catch and tear any further, and you bit on your lower lip.

It was startling to be cared for so lovingly by another person.

He took a clean wipe and cleared the dirt from your face, the aloe cooling against your skin as he said nothing about the tracks within the dirt you were sure existed, made by your tears, or the raw flesh of your lower lip from nervous biting. When it was all done, he brushed a delicate hand over your head, tucking your hair away behind your ears, and offering you a friendly and reassuring smile, before packing away his equipment.

“You were right.”

“I usually am, love.” He grinned, closing up the backdoors of the ambulance and locking them tight, ready to make your journey back to the firehouse. Your legs swung under you as you watched him pack away, pouting a little bit as you realised that you’d lost your own medkit, your lucky charm that didn’t quite feel so lucky anymore, but it had at least found you House ‘21, and that's all that mattered now.

“About a year. I know it hasn’t been a full year yet-”

“Almost has!” He chirped, and you followed him up to the front, taking a seat in the passenger seat and doing up your seatbelt securely.

“What I’m trying to say is.. thanks.” He started up the engine, backing out of the spot slowly as his job was all done, and you were well in need of getting back to the house. “Thank you for making me stick around, Newt.”

“Thanks for sticking around.” It was a simple reply, but you caught the meaning hidden underneath, and clearly, you weren’t the only one who struggled with really putting your thoughts and feelings into words. Newt was one of the best friends you had ever had, and for the first time, you were finding a home in a firehouse that you weren’t immediately looking to escape from, but saw a future within. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” He shrugged, eyes fixed on the road, but flicking over to you occasionally.

“You’re shaking a little.”

You glanced down, finding that you were, in fact, shaking slightly. Your hands balled up into fists, and you tucked them a little further within the sleeves of the coat that you were wearing. “It’s just an aftershock. The adrenaline wearing off.”

It wasn't exactly a lie, the adrenaline you’d been flooded with was beginning to slow down, to fade away, and you were left with slight trembles and some nausea that wouldn't go away for hours, but you could handle that. You’d had the same feelings after the elevator drop, and after going into any burning building for at least thirty minutes, it was always scary.

You just didn’t want to look any deeper.

He didn’t push further, but there was a frown on his lips, and despite watching out of the window at the scenery flashing by, you could feel his gaze sometimes move over you, studying you, but silence hung heavy. The car was pulled into the docking bay, and you were still trembling, your mind spinning with everything that you’d encountered, and you hated that it was taking so long for your mind to clear.

Ever since you were little, all you’d ever wanted to do was help people, to save lives, but there were times when you put yourself at risk to do so. You couldn't help it, when you’d spent so long living alone, you forgot what it was like to have to take other people into consideration. You didn't have much of a family to rely on, but every passing day made the crew of Firehouse ‘21 more and more your family, the people who would be there with you for the rest of your life, and that same burning was coming rushing back to your throat, and the ache behind your eyes.

The door on the other side of you slammed shut, Newt exiting the vehicle, and your bottom lip shook. Your chest felt tight, and you gripped at your chest underneath the material, a hand freeing from the sleeve to press over your chest, your heart beating erratically underneath. Tears pooled in your eyes, and you took a gasping breath, everything suddenly coming crashing over you, and you could barely suck breath into your lungs despite how much you were gasping and trying to.

The thoughts in your mind were spiralling so much that they seemed to go into overdrive, a dizzying array of thoughts that made you feel like you were drowning. It was almost blinding, the flashes of thoughts from within your one head making you feel like you couldn't see, couldn't hear, everything was slipping away into background noise as the unsteady race of your heart, and the support of the door you were leaning on fell away.

Two hands were holding onto you tightly, pulling you out of the vehicle and your legs gave way, a shock running up your body as your knees collided with the concrete flooring. It was a shock of cold, chilled metal and biting winds against ear stained cheeks, and your lungs were burning as you tried to breathe.

A warm presence to your side, a hand wrapping over your own and undoing your fingers from the clutching that they held, your nails having dug painfully into damaged palms, and you clung to them instead. It was Newt, the shushing in your ear told you so, holding you tight and steady as you tried to focus, tried to clear your mind and sort through your thoughts, until there was nothing left but the sound of your own sobs echoing around the room.

You were stronger now, and despite the crying that you couldn't seem to stop, you were able to be pulled to your feet, out of the cold and a wash of heat rolling over you as your feet followed the guidance Newt gave to you, the lights in the rec-room flicking on at his motion over the switch, the pair of your being the first of the team to re-enter upon coming back from a call. You settled down on the couch, curling into the cushions, and trying to get a grip on your raging emotions.

“You wanna’ take this coat off now? Get comfy?”

They were the first of the words spoken to make any sense, to not be a garbled blur in your ears, and it was at least a good sign as you began to refocus. You nodded slowly, sitting forwards enough to peel the coat from your arms, and it was left sitting over the back of one of the armchairs.

He reached for the remote, the television flickered on in front of you, a movie you didn’t recognise playing on the screen but it gave you stimulation to focus on, your head pressing to the cushion as you sat steadily, shoes kicked off and legs pulled up tightly to your body.

You didn’t understand much about what was happening on the screen, the characters flicking past and the conversation going over your head, but it was stable enough for you to use as an anchor. The doors opened and closed, you heard the firetrucks pull up, and they progressively trickled into the room. Newt was tinkering in the kitchen behind you, the hob flicking on and the sound of pots and pans clattering lowly, and the couch dipped a little beside you as Brenda sat down.

“Hey, how you doin’?”

Her shoulder bumped against yours, and you twisted your head to look at her, shrugging slightly and offering her the best smile you could. “Better now.”

She only nodded, glancing away over your shoulder, and you had no doubt that Newt was giving them a different story, but it was true. At this moment, you may be fragile, but you had a sneaking suspicion that the panic attack you had was unrelated to the accident at all. You were a paramedic, you worked with firefighter’s, risking your life on a day-to-day basis was just a part of the job description, but you’d made a crack in walls within yourself that you didn’t even realise you’d put up.

You had made breakthroughs in your own mind that you didn't realise needed to be made, and it had been so thoroughly overwhelming that you hadn't been able to handle the influx. Brenda moved, her own coat still sitting on her shoulders and she wandered away to get changed, taking Thomas’ coat with her, and she squeezed your shoulder as she passed you by.

“Made you some tea.”

Chuck was next, a steaming mug held out in front of you, a mixture of herbal essences curling up into the air and you hummed happily at the smell, reaching out to cup the warm porcelain, your favourite mug holding the drink, and you smiled. “Thanks, Chuck.”

“It’s Gally’s. It had the word ‘relax’ printed in large letters across the front of the box, so I figured it might help.” You brought it closer, sniffling it lightly, and the smell of chamomile and vanilla flooded your senses, your mouth watering a little, desperate to taste, but you resisted. Instead, you blew cool air on it, your eyes flicking up over Chuck’s head as a shadow took over. The boy twisted to look too, his Lieutenant glancing down at him, and he took the hint, offering you a final smile, before he was moving away.

Thomas took his place, and you sipped your drink as you watched him take a seat before you.

“I’m sorry for getting angry at you.”

“I was being reckless.” You conceded, and his head tipped to the side, his gaze fixed on his hands as he played with his fingers.

“You were trying to save lives, you were doing your job, and I got protective. If it had been anyone else, I would have understood that. I shouldn’t have gotten mad, when I was supposed to be doing my job, being a Lieutenant, not something else.” He gave out a sigh, like he was chastising himself, and you didn’t want him to, even if he was right.

“I’m not used to having people who care about me so much. I should have thought about that.” He dared to glance up, a nervous look in his eyes, and your voice remained low, a hushed whisper for a conversation only to be shared between the two of you. “I don’t mean to shut you out, Thomas. Especially not after the other day.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” You mumbled, a pink heat spreading across his cheeks. “It’s all just very new to me. I know you must feel like I’m playing hot and cold, and I’m really sorry about that, but I’m trying to work everything out. I’m trying to work out how I feel. I don’t know how to act around you, sometimes.”

A cheeky glance passed over his face with that, and you rolled your eyes at him, biting on the inside of your cheek to contain your smile as he grinned. “Oh, cut it out. I don’t mean you, I mean all of you. I’m not used to having a family, or such close friends. I’ve never belonged anywhere before.”

“You belong here, with us.” He was honest now, and a hand was pushing out across the cushions between you both, and offering, and you rested your hand over the top of his own. “So, not even a little bit of it was about me?”

“You’re insufferable.” He was beaming once again, clearly knowing just which buttons he was pushing, but his thumb lifted up, closing over your own. “Maybe it was a little bit about you. There’s something, I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s there. It’s different.”

“It’s different for me too.” He mumbled, and his fingers parted, letting yours slip between his to weave together, and that cocky smirk became more of a bashful smile. At least you know that while he may make you flustered, you had the same effect on him. That smile was back, the one you rarely ever saw, cute and shy as he looked at you, and you felt warm under his gaze, but you were unable to look away.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of your chest as you confessed it all, a rock you didn’t even know was there, like someone had been pushing down on your lungs and you were finally able to fight them off. His hand lifted, moving over the back of the couch, until his fingers were toying loosely with the ends of your hair, a tied back bunch that was falling loose from the stress of the day, and his fingers inched up towards the bobble.

He waited, checking it was okay, before pulling it loose, fingers working through your hair as it was eased down and out of the pattern you’d put it in, to fall loose around your face. His fingers skated over your scalp, soothing the ache within, and you let your eyes fall closed as you sank into the touch he gave you.

“That was your right of passage!” You bounced on the couch as Brenda fell into place beside you, unbalancing you a little, and her arms wrapped around you as she twisted you to face her a little bit more. Thomas’ hand fell away as he chuckled, and you didn’t even need to ask her what she meant, before she was barreling on; “You almost died-”

“Brenda!” You grinned at the loud shout Newt let out, and she shrugged.

“What? She did! She knows she did, it ain’t a secret!” The blond huffed, and went back to his cooking, and you turned to face her again. “As I was saying, you almost died, and we rescued you. You really are a member of the team, now!”

“She already was, you moron!”

“Newt! Shut your mouth!” She hissed, and he stuck his tongue out, and you felt the cushions shift again, lifting your mug to your mouth to hide your expression while waiting for the next voice to chime in.

“It’s true, I wasn’t a part of the team until I almost fell into a mince grinder in a factory four years ago when the bridges gave it.”

“Oh, dude, c’mon. We’re cooking.” Fry huffed, and Minho shrugged. “Alright, well, mine wasn’t as exciting. Just a fire where the doorway collapsed, eight stories up. Brenda drove the truck around to the side and Gally smashed the window out, he made me jump out of it to reach the ladder.”

“I caught you, didn’t I?” Gally was stirring his own tea, before he came to sit in the armchair to the side of you all, and your attention turned to him, waiting for his story. “I got trapped in a crumbling building, debris fell on me. Thomas dug me out.”

You turned to face Thomas, his hand still sitting behind your head stretched out along the couch, tapping at the cushions, and he directed his gaze to you when he realised he had your attention. “What about you?”

“My story?” You nodded, and he swallowed thickly. Everyone else seemed just as caught in curiosity, as though they didn’t know the story, and he seemed lost in his thoughts. “Mine is a little different. It came before the firehouse. I was in a house fire when I was younger, my mom was pretty badly hurt, a lot of trauma, she never fully recovered. Newt lived across the road, we couldn't have been any more than six, but he came over the next day, and asked me if I needed a friend. I don’t think I’d be the same person I am if it wasn’t for him, he’s stuck by my side ever since. Does that count?”

Silence hung over you all, and you turned to face him a little more, his eyes locked on yours, despite everyone else in the room, and you nodded. “It counts.”

“So, you’re telling me that I need to almost die to be a part of this team?” Chuck sounded utterly appalled, and you couldn't hide your laughter, the sound mixed with everyone else's as it echoed around the room, harmonious mixing like wolves howling.

“Well, that and passing your exams, kiddo.” You bit your lip upon speaking the words, and the amusement in the room only continued, the hand from behind your body slipping down to rest over your shoulders, and you leaned into him once again.

The stories continued being passed around, and there was an overwhelming sense of camaraderie as they all relived the moments that had bonded them so intensely. This was what made them a family, and what made them so important to one another. This was what you’d never had before, you’d never fit into a team like this. Every house was different; dynamics and friendships and interpersonal relationships, but you’d never found your fit before now.

You wanted to fit in, you had wanted it for so long. Craved family and friends and to know that you had a place, and being here with them felt right, and yet it was like dread was hanging over you, sitting on the throne but having a sword on a fraying rope overhead. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong, to prove to you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that your life would be spent as a wanderer, and that this was as close as you would get.

“So, what movie are we watching? It doesn’t look very good.”

“That’s because it’s not an action movie, Minho. They’re all you watch.” Thomas sighed, and you shrugged.

“I don’t know, Newt chose it.”

“Uh, no, wait a damn minute, missy.” The voice was closer than you expected, and Newt came to round the couch, kicking a foot at Chuck and telling him to move up on the other couch, offering you a bowl of pasta by placing it down on the coffee table before you. The gesture went unspoken but not missed, still trying to help soothe you, as though he knew you even better than he knew himself. “I did not choose the movie, it was just what came on when the television turned on.”

“So I can pick something else?”

“No, Min, you have awful taste in movies.” Your partner scowled, snatching the controller from him, and the group began to bicker, discussing what movie you would all watch, as though you wouldn't likely be interrupted by another call, or the end of your shift. You could always hope to reach the end.

Lips brushed over your ear, and you paused, breath held as you waited to see what Thomas had to say. “What are you thinking about?”

It was a loaded question, the real meaning hidden between the lines. He wanted to know if you were thinking about him, or more specifically, all of them. It all felt too good to be true, too tempting, like a siren song.

And yet, as warm honey eyes stared at you expectantly, soft and patient, a plate with a freshly-made snack from someone who loved you sitting on the table and a hot drink that was cooling in your hands, you placed the mug down, knowing that right now, you were willing to take part in the illusion, to put all thoughts aside and just accept what you had right now.

“Nothing. I don’t want to think right now. I just want to be here with you all.” He nodded his head, and you leaned forward to put your drink down on the table with your meal. “With you.”

“Okay, angel.”

The pet name made your stomach do flips, his confirmation having a deeper meaning beyond simply acknowledging your statement. He was accepting your feelings, and accepting that you needed time, but that you were processing how you felt. He was just accepting you for your trying, and giving you the time you needed. He leaned forwards, pressing a kiss to your forehead that made something spark in your guts, an excited anxiety at the gesture.

He backed away, giving you space, and yet you didn’t want it. Shuffling forwards a little more, his face little up in something indescribable as you rested against him, head settling on his shoulder and an arm wrapping around his waist, and barely a second passed before he was holding you back. You didn't want to talk about it, or put any kind of label on it like ‘cuddling’, which Newt would undoubtedly do the next time he got you alone, because you still didn't know what it meant. All you knew was that right now, you wanted it.

For the first time in what felt like decades, you allowed yourself to be truly vulnerable with the people around you.

#thomas #firefighter!tommy #ff!tommy #SAF #smoke and fire #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #thomas the maze runner #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #thomas x reader smut #thomas/reader smut

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Note

I’m almost afraid to ask but what happened in the episode?

Full summary time (get sad and angry in advance):

(stating for the record, I do NOT want to see Marinette salt in the reblogs or replies)

- Gabriel is mixing ingredients to fix the peacock miraculous. Duusu emerges when he puts it on and exclaims that she feels so much better, like she was in a nightmare before where she got into evil hands. Nooroo dejectedly tells Duusu that it's not a nightmare and Gabriel transforms.

- Cut to Marientte. She's trying to figure out the Miracle Box and Tikki is trying on little hats. Marinette asks if the kwami are inside and Tikki says "yes," though apart from Duusu and Nooroo. Marinette asks about Fu letting them out, but Tikki tells her that only those with a holder can go out. Marinette worries about the Miracle Box being cramped for them, but Tikki assures her that there's a parallel universe inside for them, though admits that it's more interesting being out with her.

- Marinette pushes the top button on the box, causing the kwami to emerge and go free. Marinette screams, falls, then questions why they came out, to which Tikki says that the box is in her likeness now that she's guardian: full of surprises!

- Trixx is reading her diary, Daizzi is flicking her lamp on and off, Ziggy is playing with her phone (which is currently showing that Luka is trying to call her), and Kaalki phases through the window to look outside. Marinette hurries to grab Kaalki, but a child notices her and Marinette comes up with a quick excuse about Kaalki being a toy that's not for sale.

- Xuppu and Stompp are playing on Marinette's keyboard, flicking on the news, then Alya calls Marinette from the monitor. Marinette hurries over and Alya is concerned at her clear panic, but Marinette simply asks if she likes her plushie. Alya doesn't see Kaalki at all and Tikki explains that kwami can't be seen or heard through technology, leading Marinette to lament that she just looks silly. All this time, there's been a flashing in the background, and Ziggy notes that what Tikki says makes sense because she can't be seen on "this magic painting" (flipping Marinette's phone over to show that all the camera took was her Adrien wall).

- Rose asks to see the plushies and Marinette feigns ignorance. She then panics more and her friends are concerned. Roaar questions how her friends got inside the image on the monitor. Daizzi comments that they're cute and wants Alya specifically to be their wielder. Trixx insists that she's taken and Mullo complains/wonders why Trixx is allowed a wielder and not them.

- Alya, already exasperated, says that she's being weirder than usual. Marinette excuses it with talk of getting exercise and Alya pieces together (in the rudest way possible) that all of Marinette's absurdities must mean--and all the girls chime in to ask if Marinette is at Adrien's house.

- The phone rings and Ziggy throws it. Marinette catches it and stammers, "LUKA!" then fumbles with the phone before it hits her keyboard and shuts the call off. The girls sigh, "Lukaaaaa," and Juleka mumbles something unintelligible, leading all the girls to exclaim that, "It's so cute!" (I--...sure, okay, just flip flop to whatever and have no proper reaction.)

- Meanwhile, Marinette answers the phone and Luka thanks her for the picture. She doesn't understand and Luka explains that she texted him a picture of her room--and Adrien. Marinette scrolls through her messages to see that Ziggy had sent him the picture she had taken earlier of her wall.

- Marinette panics and tries to excuse it by saying that it's a series of fashion pictures for her blog and wanted his opinion, in the process accidentally calling him "Adrien." Luka chimes back that "his name is actually Luka," and Marinette panics further, doing the same thing again before correcting herself, rambling on and on until she says, "it's just that I cheated on you--I mean, I got confused!"

- Luka insists that it's fine and asks if she's ready. She doesn't get it and Luka tells her that they have a date (Sabine is also going upstairs to see Marinette directly despite Luka literally being on the phone with her). Marinette hurriedly shoves all the kwami in the box and stashes them away, begging them to be nice and then heading downstairs.

- Sabine asks about the date she was meant to have with Luka yesterday and she says that she forget. Luka reminds her that they'd postponed because this is the last session and they can't afford to miss it. Marinette doesn't remember what they were going to see and Tom rambles about how it came out again and "it was already so dumb fifteen years ago," leading Sabine to comment that it was his first movie. Luka admits that the movie is dumb but he and Marinette are such big fans of "his" that they swore they'd go see it together. It clicks with Marinette and she cheers excitedly about how they're going to watch Jagged Stone's first movie. Luka asks if she forgot and Marinette insists that she didn't because "she definitely didn't have other emergencies to deal with," then rushes Luka out.

- Luka and Marinette are heading to the movies and trying to compete with each other to guess song lyrics to some of Jagged Stone's songs while they're getting their drinks. They sit down in the cinema and Marinette verses Luka on a song about "my guitar is my only family," which is apparently a song he really loves. Marinette congratulates him for winning the game and calls him "officially" Jagged's biggest fan and adds that he "deserves a prize for it," giving him a pink gift box. Luka opens it and is amazed by the guitar pick necklace inside, to which Marinette explains that Jagged came to the bakery the other day so she asked him to sign it for the present.

- Luka states that the gift gives her the right for a second round and recites another song lyric. Marinette takes a moment to figure it out, then excitedly recites the remaining lyrics: "KISS ME!!!" She gets embarrassed when she realizes that she blurted it out so loudly, to which Luka smiles and says, "If that's what you want." Marinette gets sheepish at what he'd done, but agrees, saying that... yes, she wants to.

- The kiss is interrupted by an akuma attack and Marinette has to make an excuse to get away. Tikki questions her if she's going to leave Luka alone (...seriously? we’re doing this now???) and Marinette points out that she can't tell him the truth.

- Ladybug shows up on the scene to what seems to be Mister Pigeon (he's not shown but it's an airplane made of pigeons), and she's listening to a message from Chat Noir that she presumably got earlier, stating that he's ready for patrol. While she's listening, Chat Noir sneaks up and pranks/surprises her, to which she grabs his wrist and yeets him off into the distance. Realizing what she did, she yoyos him back and he slams into the window. She scolds him because she could've hurt him and Chat Noir states that "the only thing that hurts him is when she leaves him alone for patrols" and how he "even missed her angry looks." She reminds him that she's been busy and he says that he knows because she's guardian now. Ladybug promises not to forget patrol again and they go off to fight Mister Pigeon.

- Cut back to Luka, who's feeling sad because the movie is over and Marinette still isn't there. Marinette returns and makes another excuse, to which Luka just smiles sadly. Cue montage of Marinette getting ice cream with him, him picking her up from school on his bike, both of which end with her having to rush off. Cut to a scene on the Liberty where Luka is about to dedicate a song to Marinette, "a girl..." and then looks to see that she hasn't arrived "...who, as always, isn't here." Marinette does show up, but the damage is done.

- Later, Marinette and Luka are walking along underneath a bridge while Marinette is making another excuse. Luka shushes her and tells her to listen to the water because if you're in this exact place, you can "hear a melody." Marinette listens for it and calms herself, after which Luka explains that he never knew who his father was and his mother never wanted to tell him who he was, so whenever he was upset over it, he'd go there to think. He asks her where she goes when she disappears and Marinette struggles to answer. Luka assures her that he'll accept whatever she says and will understand if she's still in love with Adrien, adding that he won't be jealous either. Marinette tells him that "it's not, definitely not," and Luka tells her that all he asks for is the truth. Marinette, torn, has to admit that the truth is the only thing she can't tell him.

- Visual representation of Luka's heart breaking is shown (Luka turns white, black background, a zoom out, and a crackling noise). Shadow Moth sends his akuma+feather combo and it hits the necklace that Luka is wearing. Shadow Moth tries to make a deal with Luka, but Luka resists, insisting that the truth should be shared and not taken by force, also calling him "Shadow Moth." Marinette glances up at the name, confused, then apologizes and begs Luka to resist. Shadow Moth asks why Luka resists when Marinette doesn't trust him, to which Luka insists that she does. Marinette echoes that and assures Luka that she trusts him, but Shadow Moth states that - if she really trusted him - she'd tell him the truth. Luka's mental state is finally broken and he falls to his knees, only able to beg Marinette to run before he's taken over by the akumatization energy. Marinette flees and Luka transforms into Truth with his sentimonster Pharo.

- Marinette transforms into Ladybug and then the scene cuts to Truth landing on the Liberty. Pharo traps Alya in its spotlight, freezing her in place, after which Truth shoots her, turning her lips white. He asks her what Marinette's secret is and Alya says that she's in love with Adrien. Truth tells her that that's not a secret and shoots Mylene next, who says the same thing. Frustrated, Truth insists that it can't be the only thing. Ladybug is hiding nearby, taking on her yoyo to Chat Noir about how Hawk Moth merged his power with the peacock to become Shadow Moth.

- Rose insists that Marinette doesn't have secrets because she's "the most honest girl in the world." Truth tries to shoot her, but Juleka jumps in the way and gets shot instead, though her answer to Luka's question is just more unintelligible mumbling. Ladybug makes herself known and Truth starts shooting her, though she dodges. She lands on the deck of the Liberty, then gasps as she notices the necklace-turned-akumatized-object on Truth. "Luka?!" (I'm just--I--she saw him being covered by akumatization energy--I--)

- Her shocked state allows for Pharo to hit her with the spotlight. Truth shoots her, but before Ladybug can blab her secret identity, Chat Noir swoops in to save her. Shadow Moth shouts at Truth to give chase, but Anarka shows up and demands to know what Truth is doing on the ship. In response, Pharo freezes Anarka and Truth shoots her, calling her "Mom" and asking who his father is. Anarka replies that it's Jagged Stone. Luka's eyes go round in disbelief and he asks again, getting the same answer. Truth apologizes to Shadow Moth, but insists that "this truth can't wait," jumping off into the distance.

- Meanwhile, Ladybug and Chat Noir have gotten out of the water that Chat and her hid in. Chat Noir assures her that he'd never try to take a secret from her by force, and Ladybug points to his belt to indicate that he hand it to her. He does so and she wraps it around her mouth to prevent her from speaking.

- Jagged Stone is playing a song for Prince Ali (by the way, the song production in this episode is terrible; Rose and Jagged since like they're trying to be off-key, made worse by the fact that Rose was singing the unicorn song that they could've just copy-pasted from "Silencer") when Pharo descends and hits him with the spotlight. Truth shows up and demands to know if he's Jagged's son, to which Jagged replies that it "depends on who he is." Ladybug and Chat Noir show up and Pharo goes after them, though Truth still manages to hit Jagged with his beam, explaining that he's Luka Couffaine and he "has a right to know the truth."

- Jagged admits that Luka is his son. This shocks Ladybug and Chat Noir, the latter of whom gets hit by Pharo's spotlight. Truth, distressed, asks Jagged why he hid it and abandoned him, to which Jagged apologizes but insists that he was "too lame to take care of a child," having spent his whole life on tour and now living in a hotel with a crocodile; he "never could have been a good father."

- ...In fact - he says - it actually resulted in a great song, unknowingly reciting one of Luka's favorites as he explains the it was, "my guitar was my only family." Truth, enraged, grabs Jagged and yeets him off into the sky. Ladybug acts quickly, hitting Pharo with her yoyo so she and Chat Noir can give chase. Shadow Moth demands that Truth go after them, but Truth apologizes and states there's still one truth left that he needs to know.

- Ladybug and Chat Noir manage to save Jagged, avoiding Pharo's eye until Jagged is properly safe. that done, they hop off, thoughTruth has already landed in Marinette's house.

- Truth hits Tom with his beam and asks what Marinette's secret is. Tom repeats the "she's in love with Adrien," line, to which Truth then shoots Sabine instead and asks if Marinette has a diary. Sabine tells him that she does and Truth marches for her room, though is briefly (very briefly) stopped by Tom.

- Meanwhile, Pharo thinks he sees Ladybug and Chat Noir and shoots them, though it was actually just some cardboard cut-outs seen earlier (Truth has a telepathic connection to it and congratulates it for its success), allowing Ladybug and Chat Noir to freely head for where Truth is.

- The kwami freak out at Truth ransacking Marinette's room and worry about Truth finding the Miracle Box. Xuppu wants to do something but Wayzz reminds him that their powers are too strong without a wielder, reminding them of when Plagg sunk Atlantis.

- Ladybug and Chat Noir arrive and Truth summons Pharo telepathically, meaning that Pharo is on its way. Ladybug indicates the necklace to Chat Noir with a tilt of her head and Chat Noir activates Cataclysm. Truth and Chat Noir go back and forth for a bit until Chat Noir tells Ladybug to use her lucky charm, to which she indicates the binding around her mouth. Chat Noir tells her to remove it because he has a plan... then gets knocked down almost immediately by Truth. Truth starts to ask for Ladybug to tell him--but Chat Noir kicks him down and finishes the question by asking about his top three qualities. Ladybug tells him that she's impressed by his self-confidence, his courage, but what she prefers most is his humor. Chat Noir and Truth go back-to-back some more and Truth tries to ask Ladybug again, but Chat knocks Truth away and finishes by asking what she uses when all seems lost. Ladybug uses Lucky Charm (no Charm suit) and gets aluminum foil.

- Pharo plows through the wall and spotlights Chat Noir. Truth shoots him and starts to ask his identity, but Ladybug blocks Pharo's eyes and cuts in to ask what Chat Noir thinks of her being guardian, to which Chat Noir states that it doesn't bother him so long as nothing changes between them.

- Chat Noir fights Truth while Ladybug covers her decorative umbrella in foil. Truth dodges Chat's Cataclysm and Ladybug intentionally pulls Pharo forward so Pharo is struck instead. Pharo proceeds to go nuts and Ladybug yoyos it and jumps on top, directing its spotlight towards the foil-covered umbrella that Chat is now holding. The light reflects onto Truth, freezing him, and Ladybug hits Truth's necklace. Cue Miraculous Ladybug.

- Ladybug and Chat Noir hop up to a roof and Chat comments on how much fun he had. Ladybug describes what just happened and is like if that's fun for you then yeah. Chat idles on Shadow Moth's name and Ladybug shows confidence that they'll catch him in the end, after which they banter a bit and Chat Noir tells her that it's "only with her that he can have so much fun."

- Cut to Marinette and Luka, now on the bridge in the location he was before. Marinette tells him that she doesn't want to lie and starts to suggest that it might be better for them to break up, but Luka steps forward and hugs her before she can say "break up" specifically. She hugs back and he assures her that he'll be there for her whenever she's ready. Marinette shuts her eyes tight, pained, and buries her face into his shoulder.

- Luka is later walking back to the Liberty, depressed, when he sees Jagged Stone idling near the gangplank. Jagged approaches, hugs him (Luka hugs back), then states that - if there's one thing he knows how to do (specifically calling Luka "son") - it's turning emotions into great songs, then suggests that he and Luka write one together. Luka smiles, though it looks a little bittersweet.

- Marinette, meanwhile, is crying on her bed, saying that - now that Shadow Moth is a threat to the people she loves - she can't have a boyfriend because it's too dangerous. The kwami approach and Kaalki expresses confusion at the "strange liquid coming out of her eyes." Trixx explains that they're tears and it's "too sad" (while the way-too-happy ending track is starting to kick in, by the way). Daizzi asks if they're meant to do something and Marinette tells them to "just give her a hug." The kwami swarm her to do just that and the episode ends.

#((In exchange for me writing all of this down I expect all of you to provide me with quality Lukanette content and salt about this episode.)#category: episode summaries #episode: Truth #other: ml spoilers

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