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phoenixinthefiles · 3 months

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Wear My Love

Miles 42 x reader 💜...🖤🔗 (my first Miles 42! fic be gentle) @dolligent

There’s a Laffy Taffy wrapper about two feet ahead of you on the library floor, with sticky bits of the candy still in it. You can’t see the riddle but you can see the hearts scattered on the wrapper and the to-and-from tag on the front.

So many teachers handed out Valentine’s candy bags today, it was really sweet. DIdn’t help out the littering problem that so many students seemed to have.

A sneaker came down on the discarded wrapper, a purple and black sneaker.

Miles stood in front of you with a confused look on his face.

“What are you doin?”

Zoning out so I don’t have to confront the reality of you hating my gift.

Obviously you don’t say that.

“What are you doing standing on a candy wrapper instead of picking it up? That's not very eco-conscious.”

He gives you a flat look and you give him one right back until he smacks his lips and bends down to pick the trash up. He flips the wrapper around and smirks before looking back up at you.

“What kind of tea is hard to swallow?”

“I don’t know, what kind?” You ask with an eye roll.

“Reality.” He huffs a small laugh, because of course he doesn’t know how ironic that joke really is.

“That’s funnier than half the jokes you tell me, maybe you should start eating more Laffy Taffys.”

Like the mature 16-year-old he is, he throws the wrapper at you before sitting down.

You roll your eyes and crumble the paper up and stick it in your pocket. Presumably to throw away later but you would most likely forget.

He keeps shifting in his seat and tapping his fingers on the table as you try to continue reading. You already can barely focus on your book not knowing if he’s seen your gift or not, now he’s decided to become a drummer.

“Miles please.”

“Yeah? Oh I’m distracting you, my bad.”

“It’s fine I couldn’t focus anyway.” You said as you turned slightly to slip your book back into your backpack.

“Y’know somebody dropped something into my locker?”

Your hand froze on your zipper, when you twisted to face him again Miles was watching you with his eyebrows raised.

“Really, what was it?”

He gave you a deadpan look and you sighed.

Your eyes widened when He started fiddling with the collar of his shirt before pulling out a silver chain.

You immediately started trying to get a read on him; eyes darting from the necklace to his eyes and back. Surely he likes it if he’s wearing it?

Right?

He doesn’t say anything though and you clear your throat.

“Do you like it? You can be honest, it won't hurt feelings, I just want to know.”

It absolutely would hurt your feelings. More so from the thought that you had overstepped not that he didn’t like it.

Miles reached back and unclasped the dog tags from around his neck. He didn’t look upset, more like he was trying to figure out how to look.

“I like it, I swear.”

Your breath doesn’t come rushing out of you, but the tightening in your chest loosens and you do take a deep breath.

“I like it a lot. How’d you get all the information?’

“I asked your mom.”

It was surprisingly easy to find someone who makes custom dog tags. The hard part was psyching yourself up to ask Ms. Río about her husband’s birthday. It took you 15 tries in front of your mirror to come up with the least insensitive way to phrase your question.

It paid off though. Miles likes it.

10 months ago you would’ve thought he was completely unemotional about it.But over time you learned to read him a little better.

Right now he was fiddling with the dog tags and twisting his lips around.

He was fighting a smile.

He lost the battle against his facial expression and a smile broke out on his face.

You matched it and let out a nervous laugh when he looked at you again.

He huffed a small laugh and you tried to tame the grin that felt like it would split your face.

“Thank you.”

You nodded a bit too quickly and you ignored the ache in your cheeks from smiling so hard and the warmth you started to feel in your face.

“You’re welcome, I'm just glad you liked it.”

He nodded and a little smirk took shape on his lips.

“Yeah I like it a lot. Just don’t know why somebody I’ve been dating for 10 months would slip a gift in my locker instead of just giving it to me.”

Your eyes widened for a split second before you rolled them in an attempt to brush off your embarrassment.

“I was just adding a layer of mystique.”

“Uh huh, or you was just scared.” He said with a shrug.

You scoffed but he was dead on.

“Me? Scared? You must have me confused with somebody else?”

He rolled his eyes and slipped his hand into his jacket pocket.

You watched him pull out a small box and reach it across the table to you.

He rolled his shoulders back and forth as he watched you pick it up.

Seems like you weren’t the only one scared.

“What is it?”

He deadpanned again, “What’s the point of telling you instead of you just opening it?”

You rolled your eyes and refocused on the gift.

Gasping as you opened the lid, you pulled out the locket necklace sitting inside.

You looked up at Miles and smiled.

“It’s so pretty.”

He smiled hesitantly and cleared his throat.

“Open it,” he rasped.

You did and your smile grew wider. Inside the locket was a sketch of you from the day you and Miles went to the arcade. It was the only one in the city with a full set of games that still worked.

“I haven’t drawn in a while y’know so…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck.

You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve seen or heard him talk about drawing something. You can also name everything he drew. Being able to add yourself to that list feels…amazing.

Trying to calm yourself down and not embarrass yourself by doing something like leaping across the table to hug Miles, you run your hand along the chain of the necklace.

“I don’t know if I look as good as you drew me.”

When you look back up at him he’s staring at you with an expression that’s much too adoring for you to focus on.

“Nah you look better.”

You immediately looked back down at the necklace in your hands and ignored Miles’ snickering.

As you continued to run your fingers along the chain you noticed something and your lips quirk up.

“Did you make the chain yourself?”

He rolled his shoulders again, “It’s that janky?”

You shook your head and tried to match the way his signature smirk.

“Nah, it’s that good.”

He immediately caught on and let out a small laugh.

“I see what you tryna do, but you just not as smooth as me.”

Your eyes roll again but you laugh a little too, “Whatever Miles.”

You stood up and took the few steps to his side of the table and turned your back towards him. He took the que and stood behind you, taking the clasp and leftover chain and securing it.

When he finished, you turned to him smiling.

He smiled back at you and straightened his necklace around his own neck.

Before you could second guess yourself you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Happy Valentine's Day Miles.”

His arms came up around you and you could feel his chest heave.

“Happy Valentine's Day, mami.”

#miles 42 x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles 42 #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv #fromphoetou

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phoenixinthefiles · 3 months

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Genuine

I apologize it took me almost 2 months to write bcus I hate discussing feelings that much Warnings: v self indulgent like this some self-discovery type stuff

@vhstown (also lmk if you wanna be tagged or something)

Your book slipped from your lap as you laughed and failed to catch your breath.

Hobie, the source of your amusement, started at you stale faced. Unfortunately for him, this only made you laugh harder.

“Wait,” you gasped out, still trying to catch your breath.

He continued to sideye you as he spoke, “Yeah it’s hilarious, nearly drowned in the Thames, but as long as you’re amused.”

You managed to contain your giggles enough to get your breathing under control and you leaned on his shoulder looking up at him with your best innocent look.

“I’m so happy you didn’t die, darling,” you said, trying your best to copy his accent.

He rolled his eyes at your antics but you could see the small smile he was failing to hide.

You grinned mischievously and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Hobie Brown, punk extraordinaire, trips into the River Thames mid performance; sounds like a headline. Oh wait…it is one.”

You cackled at your joke, but stopped when he pushed you and you nearly fell into a candle.

“Hobart Brown! I could’ve burned myself.”

“Thought you would’ve laughed it off since you find near-death experiences amusing.”

You snickered and shook your head, “You are so dramatic.”

“Nah, you’re just heartless.”

“Don’t you know how to swim?” you asked.

He glared at you instead of responding.

You gasped, “you don’t?”

He scoffed, “‘Course I do, but I was fifteen and pissed out my mind.”

“So you flailed around like little girl? sounds like a serious lack of survival instincts to me.”

He lunged for you and you reared back, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry I’ll leave you alone.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but he sat back down.

You smirked and muttered, “for now.”

His head jerked back to you and you gave him another innocent look.

He just shook his head at you again.

You watched him for a moment before remembering what you were doing before you nearly laughed yourself to death.

You had rambled to Hobie a week ago about wanting to make a reading nook where you could sit with a blanket and read your favorite books.

After you complained about being bored earlier in the day, he invited you to hang out on his boat and the two of you spent about two hours finding all of his books and making a fort.

It was cramped, and the height of the stacked books made you slightly claustrophobic, but it was still cozy. And it’s not like you hated being close to Hobie.

The candles were his idea, even though you told him it was a fire hazard.

You found your book you dropped, and dusted it off before finding your spot to pick up where you left off.

You found your focus shifting from the book to the conversation you two just had.

Everyone has been embarrassed at least once in their life, It shouldn’t have surprised you like it did.

Hobie was human, humans get embarrassed.

But still…

“Can’t read your mind.”

Hobie’s voice interrupted your thoughts and he turned towards you.

“Hm?” You asked.

“You got a question. Can tell by the way the your looking,” He tilted his head and gave you a lazy smirk. “It’s easier to tell when people with smaller brains are gearing up for a question, their brain can’t really contain it.”

You roll your eyes. You did have a question, but the reason he knew that wasn’t because your brain is small.

Not everyone can be genius.

“Ok. Why are you living in a boat if you had such a mortifying experience with water? I mean personally, I wouldn’t-

You’re cut off by your own laughter as you leap up and dodge him as he lunges for you again.

You’re fast as you dart away, but his legs are longer and he’s much more agile. You almost knocked a candle over trying to get up.

Should’ve ignored his suggestion for those.

He catches up to when you run into the door leading out to deck, bumping your hip harshly into the frame.

He saves you before you can faceplant into the many plants and flowerpots he has cluttering the deck.

You groan as you try to catch your breath, trying in vain to rub out the sting in your hip.

Hobie doesn’t aid in your efforts at all. He digs his long fingers into your ribs as you laughed breathlessly and tried to dodge his fingers.

He doesn’t let up when you trip over your own feet trying to back away from him.

He smoothly slows down your fall, somehow managing to keep a good grip on you even though his fingers are constantly moving and you’re squirming like hell. Stupid guitarist hands.

Speaking of, the rhythm he’s strumming into your ribs is akin to the song he was playing earlier…

“Ok,” you gasp, “I give up I’m sorry!”

He doesn’t let up at all.

“Nahh, it’s a bit late for that, where’s all that energy from before huh?”

“It’s gone” you grit out, still tying, in vain, to squirm away.

“Hobie pleaseee,” you beg. Well it was more of a wheeze.

He continues spidering his fingers up and down your ribcage, pretending to give thought to your plea. “Don’t know if I can do that love, still haven’t heard a good apology.”

You whine and squirm a little more but eventually give in.

“Ok, ok I'll apologize," you gasp out and he leans back, finally.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure the performance was amazing and the dive just amplified it. Y’know the unpredictable nature of punks and that?”

He snorts and stands to his feet, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

“Your apology was still rubbish, but you recovered in the end.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned into his chest, still panting like a dog.

He wraps his arms around you pulling you even closer, softie.

You finally regain control of your lungs and took a deep breath inhaling the scent of leather and scented smoke wafting off of Hobie, you probably smelled the same considering the candles.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and you knew he was probably still waiting on you to ask your question from earlier.

“I was surprised that you got embarrassed.” You muttered out, feeling a bit stupid as you did so.

He pulled back slightly and gave you a confused look. You sighed and pulled back further turning to lean against the very short railing wrapping around the deck. Yet another hazard, if he wasn’t careful he might fall off this boat.

“I know it’s kinda dumb, but I was surprised. I mean embarrassment kinda requires you to care what people think and you being you…” You trailed off.

He nodded and tilted his head back and forth a few times before responding, “I don’t care what they think, but feelings don’t really respond to logic.”

"No they certainly don't," you mumble.

You can't really describe the tightening in your chest and the pressure in your brain, and you don't really want to.

Unfortunately for you...

Hobie knocks his knuckles against your forehead, wordlessly communicating exactly what he emans.

You roll eyes and take another deep breath before you respond.

"You wear everything on your sleeve; everything about you screams-genuine. And sure you've got a lot of other things going on but you don't...hide. I just don't understand it I guess. Not everybody does that and-

"I don't hold a grudge against you for it."

You're not surprised at the interruption, more at the fact that he read you so well.

You grimace and look away to gather yourself before you speak again.

"I-I know that but sometimes I worry."

He hums and pulls your hands into his, fidgeting with the ring he made that rests on your middle finger.

You're grateful for the distraction and direct your eyes down to your connected hands as you continue.

"I don't wanna say the wrong thing, and you not even be able to get what I mean because I can't...show it."

You shrug and let your hands fall out of his, subconsciously closing yourself off while you try to breathe through the straining in your sternum.

He places his hands on your shoulder and gently rubs his hands up and down your arms. It's not that you need to be warmed up, but the action calms you down and breathing becomes much easier.

You look up at him and he gives you that stupid smirk of his.

The one that made you fall in love with him.

"I've known you for a while now doll; you think you're closed off and cold, but you're not. You're a lil' emotionally stunted-"

You roll your eyes, while his twinkle.

"But I don't fault you for it. What's the point in being the same anyway, weren't made for it y'know? You're plenty expressive; I can see it in your eyes, in your body language, in that little lip twist you do when you're trying to be nice."

He brings you closer to him, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other one the railing behind you.

"You've let me in, I'm not going anywhere."

You give him a small smile and he matches it before tilting your chin up and leaning down to give you a kiss.

You return it and your smile widens when you pull away.

It drops in the very next second when you hear thud from inside the boat and the distinct sound of fire scorching paper.

Your eyes widen and you push away from to run back inside.

You bump your hip on the door frame again but you ignore the pain and scramble to put out the fire that's singed your book.

Luckily, you caught it before it could really spread and only the corner of the book is burnt.

Hobie snorts from the doorway and you turn to glare at him.

"Well I've got a idea of what you're feeling now."

You huff and shake your head, " I told you it was a fire hazard."

He shrugs, "It was pretty. 'Sides you've got quick reflexes; you caught it in time."

You smirk and toss the book to the ground, better to not have anything in your hands when you run.

"Yeah I do, they're really quick. I definitely wouldn't have have tripped off a boat and forgot I knew how to swim."

As soon as you finish your sentence you take off, and damn him for being a giant because he's right on your heels.

i did it 😭😭😭✊🏾

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown fic #atsv hobie #spider punk #hobie brown #fromphoetou

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phoenixinthefiles · 4 months

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It’s Called “Self-Reflection”

Hobie x reader🕸️…🎸💜

(My first ever x reader, be gentle)

“I look done,” you say, frowning as you analyze your reflection in the mirror.

You quickly whip your head around to the bathroom door and sigh in relief when Hobie doesn’t come through the door.

Majority of your reservations for staying the night with Hobie stemmed from your habit of talking to yourself.

It wasn’t even something you knew that you did until your mom caught you one too many times and you finally accepted that you have a problem.

God forbid Hobie walks in on you talking to yourself, you wouldn’t ever live it down.

You finish getting ready quickly, and you actually look like a person who gets a normal amount of sleep (you don’t).

Yawning, you take the few steps into the kitchen.

Hobie’s standing in front of the cooktop cooking bacon, shirtless.

Not that you don’t appreciate the view…

“When you get popped by that grease, I won’t be listening to any complaints.”

He whips his head around with a grin and he turns the heat on the skillet down before turning back to you.

“Yeah you only hear complaints from yourself.”

You tense up immediately and Hobie leans against the counter with an amused smirk on his face.

Your hands come up to cover your face and you groan.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

It’s a very pathetic attempt to shake of your embarrassment.

“No? Need me to jog your memory then?”

“Nah my mind’s like a steel trap. So if I can’t remember something you must be making it up.”

He snorts and points at your forehead.

“Must’ve trapped someone up there.”

You sigh, “What’s for breakfast, Hobart?” One last attempt at changing the subject won’t hurt.

He sweeps a hand over the stove, “All the regulars, deary.”

He turns back to grin at you, and you just know he’s gearing up again.

“Your friend up there have any preferences?”

You glare at him and go up to stove, not so gently nudging him out of the way, and ignoring his comment.

“How high do you have this thing?”

He scoffs and nudges you back, “Dictating my cooking now? Better tell your friend up top things don’t work like that round here. ‘S ain’t a democracy, I’m big man.”

“That doesn’t sound like something an anarchist would say.”

He shrugs, “Never good to be too consistent y’know?”

You roll your eyes at him, he only ever uses that line when you trip him up.

He reaches for the skillet on the stove and your brain doesn’t even track the sheer stupidity until he’s already burned himself.

“BLOODY HELL!”

You stand there, your brain still trying to process what he just did, as he turns the tap on and sticks his hand under the water.

Finally, you recover and move to fridge and grab a stick of butter but a sudden bout of laughter stops you before you can put it to use.

Hobie’s finally stopped swearing and now he’s staring at you incredulously.

“Nah, you’re actually mad. I just roasted my hand hand on that pan, and you’re laughing?”

He sounds too shocked to be offended and that makes you giggle even more.

“No, that’s not it,” you gasp out, “I’m just-why would you do that? What possessed you to put your hand fully on the handle of a hot skillet? Palm in perfect position to be burned.”

“Thought I turned the heat down, forgive a man for making a mistake.”

Oh now he wants to advocate graciousness.

You grab a knife and cut a nice sized chunk of butter, before stepping over to Hobie and gently smearing it on his hand.

“I still can’t understand that. You thought you turned the gas down so you touched a hot skillet?”

“You had a full chat to yourself, in a bathroom, while you fancied yourself up?”

“So I’m crazy and you’re stupid?” You retort. “Neither of us comes out on top in this situation.”

His smirk returns and he somehow manages to make the massive burn in the middle of his hand look good.

“Nah, I’m taller, I’ll always come out on top”

You roll your eyes and toss a roll of bandages at him, “Just because you’re a giant means you’re right? This is why I prefer talking to my friend, he always makes sense.”

“Bit hard not to make sense when you’re talking to yourself, isn’t it?”

You don’t even roll your eyes this time, the motion couldn’t show just how exasperated you were with him. (Though that could be the exhaustion, from you not getting enough sleep the past week)

“Fix your hand up and leave me alone, please and thanks.”

“I can only do one of things sorry, and I’m afraid it ain’t gonna be the one you prefer.”

You huff, “Just finish cooking the damn food.”

He clutches his hand dramatically to his chest and looks at you as if you’ve just shown up to some fancy event in your sweats.

“You’d make a man with a burned hand, cook his own breakfast?”

You huff again and push him out of the kitchen forcefully, you barely did anything.

“Fine, I’ll finish it, go water your plants.”

“You talking to me or your friend, y’know-

“Hobart,” you grit out, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He gives you one last smirk as he leans in and kisses your cheek, dashing away before you can swat at him.

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“Gonna assume you were chatting to your friend that time!” Hobie yells.

“HOBART BROWN!”

You can hear him laughing and you flick your middle finger in the direction of the boat he ran off to.

“Gonna find me an actual friend to talk to all the time and see how he likes that.”

Take it I don’t want it anymore @vhstown

#hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown fic #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #fromphoetou #atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #atsv x reader

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phoenixinthefiles · 3 months

Text

Six?...it Only Felt Like Four

Pavitr Prabhakar x reader ❤️...🔸🔷🪻 I hope and pray I got him right @vhstown @daydreaming-en-pointe @1610milesperhour

The incessant ringing of the doorbell shakes you out of your daze.

Your homework could wait. It was only the start of the school year; one rushed assignment could be excused. Plus, now that you focused, the sound of the doorbell was a little rhythmic, which could only mean...

You were glad the only other person in the house right now was napping, no one could make fun of you for the embarrassing mad dash you made to the front door.

You yelled out that you were coming and stopped in the hallway mirror to check your appearance.

good enough.

With that, you open the door to see your boyfriend who has a smile on his face to match yours.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" He exclaims. Your brows immediately furrow, and your eyes follow his as they flicker to his hands.

He's holding a pretty blue and gold box with a ribbon so perfectly tied you know he couldn't have done it himself. It's really nice but...

"It's nowhere near Valentine's Day, that was like six months ago."

His smile doesn't falter.

"Only six months? that's close enough, nothing has really changed."

"It's summer," you deadpan.

"It feels like nothing has changed."

He says it in an airy way like it's just so obvious.

Like he hadn't been complaining about the historically low temperature when you first met this winter.

You shake your head with a small smile.

"We've been together for four months; six months is a long time."

He smiles to smirk, and you prepare yourself for what's coming next.

Here we go.

"My love, I wish us much more than six months."

You scoff incredulously. But He grins with a proud look on his face.

He's still as optimistic as the day you met him.

"Pavi."

"But six months is half a year. Half a year plus half a year is a full year, and a full year from Valentine's Day is Valentines Day.-

"Unless it's a leap year" you interject.

Pav continues as if you hadn't spoken at all, "So, it is basically Valentine's Day Eve. Which means I'm early, and it's after noon so... Happy Valentine's Day!"

He shoves the gift out towards you but instead of taking it, you blink at him dumbly.

"I don't know if I should be more concerned about the mental gymnastics you just did, or the fact that I understood you."

"Don't be concerned at all, you're just assimilating to me."

You grin, "that's concerning."

He rolls his eyes and the head tilting he does causes some of his, insanely perfect, hair to fall in front of his eyes.

Your fingers itch to smooth it back.

"Stop deflecting," he says, a knowing grin forming.

You sigh and your eyes flicker from the gift back to him.

"I didn't get you anything." Your hand reacts on your impulses and you brush back the hair from his eyes. He freezes for a moment and his shoulders rise close to his ears as he smiles warmly.

You return his smile with a far more shy one and the you two stand there, grinning like idiots, until his eyes make their way back down to the gift in his hands and he clears his throat.

"I don't believe receiving a gift is part of gift giving."

"When did you become a dictionary?" You scoff playfully.

"Deflectinggg." he responds in a sing-song voice, tilting the gift box in a taunting manner.

You sigh again and take it from him, "Are you sure?"

"Ayyōṭā, open it."

You run your fingers over the raised decorations on the box. It's a pattern of swirls that almost look like the Mehndi you'd seen Pav drawing on himself. It wasn't as unique though, it was definitely made with a pattern, but the gold brush seemed done by hand.

You squinted and tilted the box around a little.

"Did you do this?"

"The box? no. I did tie the beautiful and symmetric bow."

"Uh huh." You give him your most skeptical look.

He cracks with a roll of his eyes.

"Auntie was very willing to assist me."

"She probably wouldn't have been if she knew you would take all the credit."

"And certainly not if she knew you wouldn't open it."

You glare at him and his stupid charming smile for a minute, before giving in and carefully unwrapping the bow. Opening the lid revealed a hand painted yo-yo.

When you first met he had attempted to impress you by showing the tricks he could do on a yo-yo. It was really corny, but it still drew you in so you didn't have any room to talk.

You gasp and carefully take it out.

"Pav, it's so pretty."

He grins boyishly and his shoulders rise once more.

With the hand not holding the box, you run your fingers over the yo-yo; aimlessly tracing the designs.

"I didn't know you could paint. I mean I know you've done Mehndi but I didn't know the steady hand transferred over."

"Mehndi," He responds, mocking your pronunciation.

You roll your eyes and he laughs softly.

"Painting is easier; there's no possibility of Aadhya carrying out her threats when my hand cramps."

A giggle bubbles out of your lips, more out of nervousness than amusement, because his becomes a little too soft as he smiles at you.

His personality is so infectious, he lights up and practically glows when he smiles, and when he turns that radiance on you?

Your heart practically sings in affection.

"I'm happy you like it."

"Of course I do, it's amazing. But it might be a bit too much for someone who's only just learned walk-the-dog."

"It's a very impressive walk-the-dog. I was fooled!"

"That's not as big of a compliment as you think."

He rolls his eyes and mumbles something but you barely hear it, focusing on the yo-yo in your hands instead.

Before you can second guess yourself, you throw your arms around him.

He lets out a small squawk, but his arms immediately come to wrap around you.

It's insanely probably ridiculous to be so happy over something so seemingly inane.

But it's Pav, nothing he does is meaningless. A hand-painted yo-yo because you learned one trick?

It wasn't ridiculous when it came to him.

He's a constant positive, he's stunningly stunningly soft-hearted, and he listens to you ramble about the littlest things. As evidenced by your new gift.

He's your valentine.

Just six months too early.

#atsv pavitr #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x reader #atsv fanfiction #fromphoetou #atsv

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phoenixinthefiles · 27 days

Text

To Know Your Heart Is a Brave Thing

💜📱…Flowerbyte drabble (but also not a drabble cus I lack self-control) @vhstown @noharaaa anybody let me know if you wanna be tagged for flowerbyte fics or any other fics

“I feel like you being passive aggressive right now, listening to this song while you talking to me.”

🎶If you don’t want me then don’t talk to me…

“Go ahead and free yourself,” Margo sang to Miles, picking up the lyrics.

Miles shook his head with a grin and Margo matched it before lowering the volume of the music playing through her speakers.

She’d been blasting music all day from various different genres, though she did agree that maybe “Free Yourself” by Fantasia was a bad selection for the moment.

Plus that song was old even in Miles’ world, it was pretty much ancient in hers.

She flicked one of her hands in the air, shuffling her playlist and turning the volume back up simultaneously.

The beginning of “Let Me Love You” by Mario started playing and Margo grinned.

It was still an old song but she knew Miles had a soft spot for it.

He smacked his lips and gave her a wry look.

“Don’t try to butter me up now Ms. Kess.”

“Boy, nobody’s buttering you up, I put my playlist on shuffle.”

A cocky grin spread over his face and Margo rolled her eyes, but her stomach still flipped.

“Even your algorithms like me.”

Though she rolled her eyes again, she knew there was truth in his statement.

In the four months they’d been dating, Margo has noticed the way the world around seems to have changed. Both the physical world and the virtual-verse.

She’d started exploring the physicality of the world around her thanks to her many visits to E-1610.

She walked through the same park where she and Miles hung out for the first time.

She had walked it before maybe once or twice, but after visiting Miles it was like the whole place lit up. She felt drawn to the spots she’d recognized from Miles’ world.

It was like there was something pulling her to sit under a certain tree or rest her hands against a certain fence.

And when she did, her heart would fill with an inexplicable sort of warmth that she knew only came from Miles.

She knew she probably looked crazy to the rare onlooker as she stood in the middle of a nearly deserted park, all alone and with a dumb smile on her face. But she still made it a top priority to visit it at least once a week.

It had become her happy place, and before Miles she didn’t even think it was possible for her to find solace in reality.

She’d never expressed these thoughts to him, she didn’t even know how, but she was sure he knew.

Margo wasn’t completely confident in how her connection with technology worked but Miles’ comment about her algorithms wasn’t too far off.

“I’m so tired, this song might just put me to sleep.”

Margo is pulled back into the present by Miles’ voice.

He’s lying down on his stomach with his phone propped up in front of him. His eyes are low and he blinks them rapidly in effort to stay awake.

Margo feels that warmth in her heart spark up at the lazy smile that’s spread across his face.

"Why are you still up if you're so tired?"

He yawns and his eyes drop a little lower as he rests his chin on the pillow in front of him.

"We haven't talked in a while, this is worth staying up for."

A wide grin splits Margo's face and she ducks from the camera to try and tamp it down.

When she reappears it's still just as big and bright, but Miles is looking at her with eyes that are a little less tired and a soft small of his own, so she knows they're sharing the same feeling.

A physical connection being reciprocated across highly advanced technology and between two teens in different worlds.

"You still need to go to sleep," she says.

He hums and looks away for a second.

"Are you uh...busy tomorrow?"

Her grin widens again but she doesn't hide this time.

"Nope. I'm completely free all day, which is very rare so I should really take the opportunity to do something special."

"Well then a very special person might come to see you."

"Very special, huh?"

"Yup."

They both laugh softly and Margo finds herself lost in his boyish grin and soft eyes.

She's pleased that he seems to be equally as fond of the cheesy grin that has yet to leave her face.

"Goodnight, Miles."

"Goodnight Miss Kess."

There's another shared laugh and then the holo-screen in front of her goes black. Her reflection shows a girl charmed-sparkling eyes, a wide smile, and straining cheeks.

These are the only times her reflection truly matches her real feelings.

This was inspired by "Young Love" by Cleo Sol

#y'all the way I was smiling the whole time while writing this🤭🤭🤭#I love these two so much #fromphoetou #miles morales x margo kess #margo kess #1610 miles morales #flowerbyte #cyberflower #cybershock

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phoenixinthefiles · 8 months

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Nun just thinking about Damian being the baby on his Dad’s side of the family, and the oldest on his mom’s side. LIKE JUST IMAGINE

(Respawn and Athanasia Al Ghul being the siblings on his mom’s side btw, dad’s side is obvi)

Like he goes from rolling his eyes at Dick when he tells him to do something, to resisting the urge to strangle Respawn (they gotta give that kid a name) when he does the same thing

EEKKKKKKK I LOVE ITTTTTT🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#fromphoetou #athanasia al ghul #damian wayne #respawn #writing #ao3 writer #batfam #talia al ghul #like it would frustrate him so much I love it

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phoenixinthefiles · 4 months

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Sorry I Was Wrong

The baby Dami fic @vhstown (loveeee) gave me the prompt for

Dick is ripped out of his dream suddenly.

He turns to his nightstand and groans when he sees the time.

Why did his brain wake him up at 1:30 am?

His answer comes when he hears footsteps pad up to his door, then it creaks open to reveal Damian.

Dick remembers another time his baby brother woke him up in the middle of the night.

He was only 16 at the time, and Damian three.

Bruce was at some fancy gathering and Dick, annoyed that he wasn’t allowed to patrol by himself, had holed himself up in his room after dinner. Which meant he missed the tantrum Damian threw when their dad left.

Back then they had only just found out about Damian’s separation anxiety. He’d only needed a long hug and a few minutes in his father’s arms to calm him down.

Dick misses when Damian was three.

These days he spent majority of his mornings before work sitting on the floor, trying to console a weeping nine year-old.

And six years ago, his baby brother hadn’t lingered nervously in the doorway like he does now.

Three-year-old Damian had toddled right up to to Dick’s bed, bat plushie in hand, and given Dick his saddest pout.

Dick had still been groggy and not fully awake when Damian came up to the edge of his bed, so he only barely managed to croak out-

“What’s wrong, D?”

“Baba’s gone.”

Then Dick had sighed and lifted the toddler off the floor and into his arms. Damian hadn’t hesitated to snuggle into Dick’s chest with a sigh of his own.

His hair was baby soft as it tickled Dick’s chin.

It’s a lot stiffer now with all the gel Damian put in it to keep it straight and prickly. It’s a try testament to how much he’s changed.

Dick had rubbed Damian’s back while he thought of what to say (and while he woke up more)

Finally, he sighed again and leaned down to kiss Damian’s head.

“I know you don’t like when he leaves. And he didn’t stay long enough to put you to bed.”

“No story,” Damon agreed, “got all my kisses.”

Dick had snorted at Damian comment, though these days he wishes Damian had maintained that childish innocence.

“And when he gets you up in the morning you’ll get even more kisses and you can probably guilt him into a story.”

Damian leaned back to give Dick a big grin. Then snuggled back into his big brother’s chest with a hum.

“Love you D.”

“I love you too, little D.”

Then Damian giggled, forever amused with their little game.

He’s not so amused now as he stands in the doorway of Dick’s bedroom, lips quivering and eyes watering six years later.

“Baba’s gone,” he says. Dick feels his own eyes start to water, the recurring pain in his chest flare up too.

“I’m sorry Damian,” it’s all he can say, nothing can make this better for either of them.

“You said he was coming back,” his little brother accused softly.

In Dick’s defense, Bruce had been coming back.

He was fifteen minutes away from the manor when his car got hit. Batman, killed in a car accident, it just didn’t seem possible.

He was supposed to go out heroically in battle, or softly, surrounded by his family.

And yet he was taken from them in a crash of metal, it felt so wrong.

But here they were, a nine year old who never stopped mourning, and a twenty-two year old, racked with guilt.

Damn it Bruce.

Dick can’t put into words how sorry he is so he wordlessly opens and catches his brother when the boy barrels into him.

Damian rests his head on Dick’s chest and his hair tickles Dick’s chin like it did six years ago.

He must have left out the gel today.

It’s not as soft as it used to be, but it’s still Damian, and he’s still here.

I hope it reads well it took me so long to try to get right😭😭😭 CONSTRUCTIVE criticism appreciated

#baby damian wayne #damian wayne #dick grayson #batfamily #dcu fanfic #fromphoetou

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phoenixinthefiles · 3 months

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Wash Away All My Fears

My First Flowerbyte fic 💻📱💜... it's about Wash Day which is very on brand- not as dramatic as the title makes it seem tho this is not beta-ed at alllll I'll make any needed edits when I wake up gn ya'll

Margo drags her hand down her face with a sigh. She’s been trying to psych herself up for wash day for 8 minutes. She’s already procrastinated and pushed it off for three days, she can’t go another day wearing it out in a fro. It's getting too hot for that.

She groaned and leaned to drop her head against the counter. She literally did a whole deep clean on her bathroom yesterday because she was procrastinating.

Which technically wasn’t procrastinating because she was still doing something productive.

She raised her head up and grabbed her phone. Her contacts were still open, washing her hair wasn’t the only thing she was putting off.

He did say to call her whenever, but Margo still has trouble with talking to him outside of the Spider Verse.

Sure, her virtual character is practically her carbon copy…but it still wasn’t carbon. Up close there were many more flaws differences between VR and the real Margo.

They’d had many FaceTime calls throughout their relationship but Margo still worried about making things awkward every time she answered the phone.

She took another look at her reflection and made up her mind.

If she had to suffer she wasn’t going to do it alone.

Miles answered immediately, bringing the phone close to his face and smiling widely.

Margo laughed a little. He did that everytime, he probably did it when they talked on the phone without video too.

“Hi Miles.”

He pulled the phone away from his face and propped it up on something in front of him.

“Hey, I was just about to call you.’

Margo blinked, “Really?”

Miles rolled his eyes and adjusted his headphones. “Nah I just said that.”

Margo rolled her eyes back but there was a small smile on her face.

“What are you doing anyway?”

“I’m about to wash my hair, and I’m also trying not to take some scissors and chop it all off.”

“Actually you would need clippers and you would buzz it off.”

“You’re enabling me?”

“Yup, Just chop it all off, girl,” He replied in a high-pitched voice.

Margo burst out laughing and shook her head as she watched him snap his fingers.

“Yeah, I’m starting to regret calling you.”

He raised his hands in question, “I didn’t do anything!”

“Exactly,” Margo said as she turned on the water, she made sure it was the perfect temp before she continued.

“I called you for moral support and I’m not feeling supported right now.”

Miles dropped his mouth open in mock shock and pressed his hand to his chest dramatically.

“After I did a girl voice for you and everything?”

Margo snorted, “Yeah not that I didn’t appreciate it, but I called my boyfriend, not one of my besties.”

He nodded, “Yeah I got you.”

Margo ran her hand under the water to check the temp again. A strangely deep voice made her look back to her phone,

“Just relax and put the scissors down lil mama, you got this.”

Miles burst into cackles immediately after and Margo gave up watching him in dumbfounded silence and just side-eyed him as he laughed.

“I cannot believe you let that come out of your mou- I should block you.”

He tried to stifle his snickers but when he realized he couldn't he just muted himself.

Margo shook her head and got her deep conditioner and detangling brush ready.

Miles piped up again when he controlled himself.

“I think the water bill has reached a hundred dollars now, you can stick your head under.”

Margo straight-faced him and tucked his lips in so he wouldn’t laugh.

“That’s my last time, I swear.”

Margo shook her head, that would not be his last time.

“I’m waiting for it to get hot.”

He nodded, a smile forming on his face.

He was always smiling when they were on the phone, it’s like his default expression. Margo pointed it out once and she thoroughly enjoyed how flustered he got.

She stopped staring at him, starting to feel warm at the embarrassing amount of time she spent doing so.

She sighed again, remembering the task at hand.

“Here goes nothing.”

Margo lowered her hair under the flow of the water and brought the sprayer up to rinse out the back.

Miles couldn’t help himself.

“Damn, you really went for it. Is that a tear or water?”

Margo refrained from throwing up her hand in a very rude gesture towards Miles, and instead tried to get a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror without getting water all over the counter.

She groaned when she did manage to get a glimpse of her cheek.

“It’s neither. That’s the gel she used, oh my gosh I knew she used too much. I felt the build-up before she even finished.”

Miles watched, amused, as she rambled. His attention now solely on her and not the game he’d been playing.

“This is why I hate washing my hair. Water dripping down my neck and- OH MY GOSH IT GOT IN MY EAR!”

Miles muted himself yet again so she wouldn’t hear the loud laughing he started when she cut herself off.

By the time he got himself under control this time, Margo was already applying the deep conditioner in her.

Miles tilted his head and unmuted himself.

“Why’re you using that first?

She gave him a long look before she responded. He was not nearly slick enough to mute himself before she realized he was laughing.

“I’m doin’ it first because by deep conditioning and detangling before I shampoo, I have less shedding. Especially after braids.”

He nods though she suspects he doesn’t really get it.

Margo resumes her detangling process and Miles unpauses his game. They talk a little which mostly consists of Miles saying things to purposely annoy her and Margo rolling her eyes.

She sighs as she finishes her last twist and pulls a shower cap out of the cabinet and puts it on.

Miles refocuses his attention on her when she calls his name.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow or something if I haven’t gone crazy and actually buzzed all my hair off.’

Miles scrunched his face up, “You done or something, why’re you hanging up?”

“I’m not done but all I’m gonna do is sit like this for like an hour and a half.”

“So why hang up?”

“Because for an hour and a half I’m gonna be doing nothing but cleaning my room or something and then I’m just gonna rinse this out and shampoo.” Margo says it slowly because she’s actually confused that he’s not getting it.

Miles shrugs and fidgets with his hands a little.

“Doesn’t really matter to me, I’m fine just keeping you company while you clean. I’d actually kind of like it.”

Margo tried really, really hard to tamp down the massive grin threatening to take over her face but she’s pretty sure she failed.

“Oh, really?”

Miles laughed at the way she cheesed into the camera and shook his head.

“Yes really.”

“Well Mr. Morales let’s clean.”

Miles chuckles again.

“Okay Ms. Kess.”

Margo lets out an extremely embarrassing high-pitched giggle and clicks the light off in her bathroom.

A couple hours later when she’s completely finished she catches Miles staring at her with a wide grin.

“What?” She asks, fighting the urge to cover up her face.

He shrugs and his hand goes to rub at his neck, clearly embarrassed he was caught staring.

“Nothing, you just look really pretty.”

Margo tries not to squeal and instead covers up her wild grin with her hand.

“Even with my bonnet and this stupid retainer.”

Miles shrugs again.

“Yup.”

“Well you look handsome too.”

His eyes widen and he quickly looks away, Margo laughs but tries to lower it when she remembers how late it is.

“I appreciate it Ms. Kess.”

She smirks and with confidence she definitely does not have she replies, “That’s Mrs. Morales to you.”

She hurriedly hangs up on him, barely catching the squawk he lets out and the flustered expression on his face.

Her phone falls to her bed as Margo rolls from side to side with her hands covering her face.

She grabs her pillow and stuffs her face in it when she hears her phone buzz.

After kicking her feet and squealing into her pillow for a ridiculous amount of time she opens their text thread.

goodnight Mrs. Morales💜

This time the squeal does not make it into her pillow.

Did I finish this at half past midnight? yeah but mind your business

#margo kess #miles molares #flowerbyte #miles morales x margo kess #atsv #atsv fanfiction #fromphoetou #cybershock #cyberflower

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phoenixinthefiles · 8 months

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Made a post about Damian being the oldest on his dad’s side and youngest on his mom’s side

Here’s the product:

I’ll think I’ll post here on Tumblr when I get the first chapter and then post the rest on Ao3 when it’s been outlined

Talia and Bruce “Healthy”Divorce AU

Bruce 32, Talia 31, Jason 15, Damian 7

Damian Wayne sighed, sliding down the wall and resigning himself to a long wait. It had been at least an hour since his parents disappeared behind the door beside him and only five minutes after they’d entered the yelling started.

He used to cry when they argued; lock himself up in his room, flop onto his bed and sob into his pillow until his father came up to check on him. Tears running down his face, while he was scolded for locking his door and not telling anyone he was in his room.

But that was years ago. Damian was still a little kid then, he’s used to the arguing now especially after the divorce.

It wasn’t a surprise when it happened but it still took Damian’s breath away, he hadn’t known exactly what it meant. Jason had explained it to him, jaw tense and teal eyes clouded with emotion.

“They won’t be together anymore you already know that, but it’s a little more than that. You know when we watched Harry Potter and Snape took an unbreakable vow? Well marriage is like that, you say these really powerful unbreakable vows. But when someone breaks the vow or can’t keep it anymore they get a divorce, it’s like a really powerful thing and it tears the connection of the vows and unlinks the two people who took them. As you can imagine that hurts a lot, it’s more than just not being together.”

Damian still remembers the way he could hear Jason’s voice trembling on the last part . And how through tear-filled, blurry eyes, he could see the hurt on his brother’s face. He didn’t like to think about that memory during the day, but it was always waiting for him when he closed his eyes at night-so he had no choice.

I posted the full chapter here

#fromphoetou #writing #ao3 writer #damian wayne #baby damian wayne #talia al ghul #bruce wayne #jason todd #batfam

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phoenixinthefiles · 7 months

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📦Delivery: part two of HEALTHY

Part 3 is here

Damian could feel the mood Jason was sporting as his anger projected off of him.

It had been around six minutes since their father shared the news with them. Six agonizing minutes that Damian spent going through an array of emotions, he’d finally settled on one—confused.

Damian could barely remember it, but when Kal told his father Lois was pregnant with Jon, the manor buzzed with anticipation for the next nine months. Why weren’t his parents happy about their baby?

He feels Jason shift beside him, the couch squeaks.

“So, all that talk about consistency was really just a way to placate us, huh?”

Talia sighs, “Jason-“

But Jason wasn’t having it, shaking his head with a scoff and slumping down on the leather couch they were sitting on. Damian flinched slightly at the squeaking sound the couch made, he hated that noise.

“The two of you are unbelievable. You tell us it’s over, tell us you’re going to try and make sure everything stays the same, that you’re gonna make sure it’s as painless as possible, then you do this. So what’s the plan anyway? Have the baby in nine months and then-“

“Six months.” Damian states and he watches all the heads in the room turn to him.

Jason scoffs, “Yeah, six months ‘cause you waited three whole months to tell us. You probably didn’t want to tell us at all. Just come home with the baby and keep pretending.”

Jason was right about everything he said, but he was most right about their parents futile attempts at “making this their new normal.” They hadn’t actually done anything to keep their lives the same, they just acted like nothing happened until Jason and Damian left the room. Then the yelling started.

“Will the baby stay with you, Mama?” Damian feels it’s an important question considering the circumstances.

In the past 8 months he’s felt more like a package than a boy. His parents had developed a schedule they thought was “the least disruptive to his development,” but Damian felt that any schedule that kept him from seeing his parents together was “disruptive.”

His parents’ demeanor abruptly changes and the room becomes stiff. So that’s what they were arguing about.

His mother turned to his father, a look on her face that Damian would not want to be on the receiving end of.

She turned back just as quickly giving Damian a soft smile, “We haven’t decided yet Habibi. But whatever happens will be the best for the baby and the two of you.”

Jason scoffs again and the sofa squeaks when sits back up again, Damian winces.

“Well you waited three months, do you at least know the gender?”

Bruce and Talia give Jason identical warning looks at his tone, but Damian doesn’t think that’s fair. They broke their promises, they lied for three months, and now they’re annoyed at Jason for being angry.

“I don’t care what they are.”

“Damian,” Bruce admonishes.

Damian shrugs, reaching for Jason’s hand, “Well I don’t, it is either a girl or a boy. I end up with two sisters or another brother. I just hope they don’t hurt as much as me .” He mutters the last part but by the look on his parents’ faces they hear him.

He moves Jason’s fingers up and down, bending them back and forth. Jason gently pulls his hand away and wraps his arm around him, bringing him in close. He moves his other hand to Damian’s hair and Damian leans into him further.

His father sits down on the coffee table in front of the couch and places his hand on Damian’s knee. His mother moves closer as well and grabs Damian’s hand to hold in his own.

Damian avoids their eyes, leaning more heavily into Jason and hiding his face in his brother’s chest. Jason takes the hint and pulls him so he’s fully in his lap, Damian snuggles into his chest, trying to ignore the ache in his own.

He hears his father sigh but doesn’t turn to see his expression.

“We know this is hard but I-We’ll make it work.”

The ache in Damian’s chest grows, it’s not even a reflex for him to think of them as one anymore.

Jason scoffs and shifts, again, but he starts combing his hand through Damian’s hair again so he doesn’t comment on the annoying sound.

Damian heard more shifting and then a kiss is being pressed to his head.

He looks up at his Mother and she cups his cheek, “Bhebak, Habibi.”

He nods, and turns his head slightly to kiss her palm before turning back to Jason’s chest.

He knows he concerns them, all of his family, when he shuts down and ignores them like this. But he thinks they can stand to be a little more concerned, they never seem to stop driving him to the point where he feels like he can’t even look at them, let alone speak to them.

Jason moves his hands to get a different grip on him and Damian takes the cue to wrap his arms around his neck. Jason lifts him and carries him out of the room.

Damian is glad for the escape, a few more minutes in that room and he would have thrown up.

Jason carries him to the kitchen and sits him down on one of the barstools at the island. Damian watches him root around in the cabinets for something before he pulls out a bag of pretzels and sets them down on the island before moving to the fridge.

Damian grins, Jason always knows what he needs.

His brother comes back to the island with a jar of Nutella, it’s not cold so it must be fresh out of the pantry.

Jason opens the jar and takes two pretzels from the bag. He sticks them both in the Nutella and swirls the chocolate around the pretzels sticks before he hands one to Damian. (The one with the most chocolate)

Damian’s grin widens, “Thought you said this was stupid.”

Jason rolls his eyes but he still reaches out to intertwine his arm with Damian’s, their pretzels facing their mouths in a parody of a couple’s first bite of cake at a wedding.

“They may not keep their promise, but I will.”

“They don’t understand how big it is, they can’t, they’re only thinking about their love. I swear that I’m gonna make this okay for you though. And this is gonna signify that; people do this after their vows, and chocolate makes almost everything go down easier.”

And he had always tried his best to keep that promise, though sometimes he would get angry at Damian for “wishing on a dying star.”

But Damian didn’t have any expectations for emotional control.

He looks Jason in the eye and takes a bite of his pretzel.

“I’ve never known you to break one.”

Jason smiles and takes a bite of his pretzel as well. It’s the first time Damian had seen him smile in a while.

Maybe the baby is bringing joy, or at the very least some change.

@vvkan (didn’t really know if you still wanted to be tagged or not😭)

Edit: Talia told Damian she loves him. I forgot to say it but it likely won’t show up in translation as it is Levantine Arabic.

Bhebak = I love you (masc)

Habibi = my love (masc)

#fromphoetou #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfam #jason todd #talia al ghul #talia and damian #good mom talia

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phoenixinthefiles · 7 months

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