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miastideclock · 3 years

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Stray Kids Reaction To Their S/O Being Shy About Their Singing-Talents

anon asked:

Can you do stray kids reaction to their s/o being a good rapper and singer but they get shy and have low confidence? - 🐻💙

Of course love! I hope you like it x So sorry for the wait! While we're here, I just wanna say I'm sorry for the length difference of the individual reactions! * y/n/n is what i use for your nickname btw

Word Count: 3.5k-ish

Bang Chan

Silence. At least for the most part. You clicking the keyboard of your computer, Chan humming slightly as he clicked around on his own, as well as twisting and turning the dials on his audio mixer, connected to said computer. The sounds had sort of blended into the silence though, so neither of you really noticed it at this point.

A click louder than all of the others soon came from Chan's computer, meaning he was going to connect his progress to the speakers of his studio, so he could fully take in the track he was working on. He had played it what seemed like a million times already, but you didn't mind. You were already so phased out that he could be announcing the break up of Stray Kids', and you honestly wouldn't even catch it.

The familiar beat of their upcoming title track boomed through the speakers, and as if on autopilot, you sang along. You had heard the beginning of that very song so many times now, the lyrics were as good as engraved into the inside of your eyelids.

Once the first verse and chorus were over, the song stopped, as did you. It was when the song didn't play again you finally snapped out of your computer-trance. You shifted your eyes from the screen over to your boyfriend who was sitting on the other side of the room.

"Y/n."

You then realized you had been singing along, and probably not as quiet as you had thought. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. I'll keep quiet." You quickly apologized.

You were hanging out with your boyfriend, yes- but he was still at work, and you'd hate to be the reason for him switching out of his creative-mode.

"No! No, no, don't worry. You're just so good? How come I have never heard you sing before?" Chan grinned as he turned his spinny-chair to face you and fell back into it, looking at you with admiration.

You had been sitting on the floor with your back against the seat of the couch, so the coffee table by the mentioned couch had your laptop at shoulder-height, meaning you had to close the screen of your computer to see your boyfriend. Once you had done so, you moved your hands up to your face, covering your cheeks.

"I don't like the attention. I hate it when people look at me like- exactly like you're doing now, stop!" You giggled when Chan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He decided to mess around with you and started staring you down. You laughed and begged him to stop, but the more you did, the more intensely he stared at you- until he eventually cracked, sending you both into fits of laughter.

Lee Know

"First things first rest in peace Uncle Phil."

The music blared from your headphones straight into your head, being the only thing keeping you motivated as you did some housework. Seeing as you were mopping when the J.Cole song started playing, you figured the handle would prove to be the perfect microphone.

"For real, you the only father that I ever knew." You continued, singing and rapping along while shaking your butt and cleaning the floor. Maybe not the world's most efficient cleaning strategy, but my-oh-my did it get the job done.

Due to the loud volume in your headphones, you didn't hear the front door open and shut, as your boyfriend came home for the day.

Minho didn't even get the chance to put down his bag before his attention was completely wrapped around you having a concert in your living-room. He quickly recognized the song and let his head bob along to the beat, even though he could only hear you rapping, and not the song itself. He kicked off his shoes and placed his things on the ground before he slowly made his way into the living-room, doing a little boogie as he did so.

It wasn't until you finally turned around almost a minute later you saw your boyfriend joking around, dancing to your rapping. You instantly dropped the mop and let out a little scream as he startled you, covering your face with your hands once you saw it was just him.

"Minho! What are you doing?" You cried out in embarrassement after removing your headphones. Minho couldn't help but chuckle at you before he came closer and gave you a kiss-hello.

"Y/n, I never knew you had such voice-control! You've never rapped in front of me before, why?" He asked when he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but his face a few inches away from yours.

"Because you're an actual rapper in an actual band!! That's like showing Michelangelo your drawing!" You argued back, a massive smile on your face. Minho then continued to shower you in compliments, making you hide your blushing face from him by burying it into his chest.

Changbin

The kitchen had all kinds of different smells as you were stirring the pot of soup you had on the stove in front of you. The kitchen-window was open, letting in a fresh spring breeze, and the radio was playing a familiar song.

"Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is La Vie En Rose." You softly sang along, your body swaying back and forth to the tune. You continued to sing along as you used the wooden-spoon to stir around, making sure it didn't burn.

(bro, i think i fucked up my sOUP)

"Hey, Y/n/n." It suddenly came from the doorway to the kitchen, instantly causing you to stop singing and spin around. "Hi, Binnie." You gave him a smile and then turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut, only for a second- as if you were trying to erase the past ten seconds. You hoped the radio was louder than your voice, but that hope soon came crashing down.

"No, why'd you stop?" He asked as he placed a few sheets of paper on the table and continued over to you. You started smiling like an idiot for a second before you raised your hands to cover your face. Chanbin noticed and chuckled as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. "Don't be shy!"

He then spun you around so you were facing him, but your hands still covered your face. This made Changbin just chuckle even more. He tried to jokingly pry your hands from your face, but you just shoved your head into his shoulder so he wouldn't be able to grab you properly. You either couldn't help but chuckle as you messed around, but quickly stopped once you remembered you were cooking.

You turned around to keep stirring your soup, Changbin never let go of you. "But tell me, why have I never heard you sing before when your voice is THAT good?" He asked, but you ignored him.

"For real?" He tried again, but you pretended he didn't say anything.

"Would you like some soup?" You asked him, turning slightly to look at him. He seemed amused, but he just nodded, accepting your choice of lunch.

Hyunjin

Hot water poured down your back, the whole shower smelling like your body wash. You had just gotten back from a run and decided to clean up a bit before Hyunjin came back from work. So after getting out of your leggings and hoodie, you had grabbed your speaker and headed for the washroom.

Knowing Hyunjin wasn't home, you qued the best of the best from your playlist, getting ready to absolutely shred the imaginary rap battles you were about to have. Banger after banger played as you sang into your microphone. Your mic being an empty shampoo bottle you had yet to throw out.

You were mid-shampoo when Streets by Doja Cat played, and you almost slipped and fell while hurriedly reaching for your microphone.

"Damn, papi, you a rare breed, no comparing." You borderline yelled, as if you had just gotten out of a failed relationship where you still loved your partner, when in fact that wasn't your case at all. You were very much in love with your boyfriend, and you were on great terms- but for the sake of your rap battle, you had to get into it.

"When other chickens tryna get in my coop 'Cause you're a one in a million There ain't no man like you!" Not to toot your own horn or anything, but you could confidently say you absolutely bodied that verse, and you were soon let know you weren't the only one who thought so.

(I don't actually think he is the one to cuss, but this is simply because I cannot think of another way to say it, so for the lack of a better word:) "Fuck it up, baby!" You heard Hyunjin hype you up on the other side of the bathroom door, making your stomach drop for a second.

"You're not supposed to be home yet." You answered him after turning off the speaker, and the shower. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around you, then went to open the door.

"Well, I had to hurry home when I heard the rap God themselves was having a concert in our bathroom." Hyunjin chuckled once you opened the door with almost a shameful face. "Should I talk to JYP about getting you a rap-audition, or..?" He dragged out the last word, kind of he was taunting you, but in the most loving way possible. Feeling your cheeks grow hot, you closed the door back up and locked him out.

"I'm never leaving this bathroom." You announced as you covered your face, even though Hyunjin could no longer see you.

"Y/n/n, I was kidding! You were great though, I might actually talk to JY-" He started again, but you cut him off by groaning, causing the both of you to break out laughing.

Han

Clicking of a pen. Gentle tapping of a foot. Frustrated hair ripping. You had seen these symptoms before- that's right, Jisung was in a slump.

You were at the studio with your boyfriend, and you were both seated in the sitting group, Jisung leaning his elbows on the table, head in his hands, tugging at his hair as if it would activate his creative juices. You had tagged along just to get out of the house, and maybe Jisung needed moral support, and wouldn't you have guessed- that was exactly what he needed.

"You good?" You asked him after he let out the umpteenth sigh in the past hour. He then finally confessed he just couldn't get the ending of the second verse down. "Why don't you sing it, so you can hear what's missing, rather than just reading it?"

He did as you suggested and sang through it. When he came to the part he was talking about, you also heard it. Something about it was just kinda.. off.

You tilted your head to the side as you were thinking of ways to better it, to try and help him. An idea popped into your head, and maybe it could work- after all you were no song writer. You tried your best to explain to Jisung what it was you were thinking, but about half-way through, you could see he was as lost as that one time Chan and Changbin had accidentally left the two of you behind at IKEA.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I don't fully understand what you mean." He confessed, and you nodded, knowing well that was him being sweet about the fact that you sucked at explaining things. So in the spirit of making it easier for him to understand, you just sang it. You sang through the song and added the part you had tried to explain.

"Did that make more sense?" You asked when you were done, looking from the sheet of paper up at your boyfriend, who was sat there, his lips slightly parted as his jaw hung lose. "Jisung? Babe?" You tried to snap him back to reality as it seemed he had zoned out, but only for a moment.

"Wait, that was so good? Since when were you that good?" Jisung suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling and almost bouncing in his seat. He continued to shower you in compliments, making you feel like a turtle trying to get back into its shell.

"Stop. If you ever mention me singing again, I will throw myself out the window." You said, both humor in your tone, and being dead serious at the same time.

"Okay, dramatic much?" Jisung joked back, making you shove his shoulder as you chuckled alongside him.

Felix

A car zoomed past you as you walked on the pavement on the side of the road, admiring the spring at its full bloom. You were almost a bit disappointed when you reached your home as you wanted to continue to look at the flowers, but that thought soon fell right out of your head. As you walked up the staircase to your apartment, you heard a constant noise grow louder and louder. You were about to turn the key when you realized the noise was more rhythmic than you originally thought, and that the music was coming from inside your apartment.

Curiosity completely consumed your body when you finally opened the door, and was met with a wall of noise. You took a few steps in and shut the door behind you, protecting the outside world from the sight you had in front of you.

Felix was using a hairbrush as he jumped around both on the floor and in the couch, crying out the lyrics to a song you didn't quite recognize. You laughed at your boyfriend as you kicked off your shoes and hung your coat in the closet.

Felix finally spotted you and quickly pulled out his phone that was connected to the speakers, and changed the song. The familiar intro of your favorite song soon played, and it didn't take as much as a second before you were as hyped as Felix were. You began jumping around and dancing with him, matching his energy.

Felix screamed the lyrics into the hairbrush before he swiftly tossed you the brush, letting you pop off as well. You rapped the words perfectly into the brush, standing on the couch as your concert evolved.

The song eventually came to an end, causing the both of you to fall breathlessly to the ground, heaving for air- massive smiles on your faces. The ground was cool against your now sweaty backs. A few seconds passed before Felix spoke.

"I don't think I have ever heard you rap before." He admitted. You kept staring at the ceiling, ignoring the boy at your side for a few seconds before you decided to answer him.

"And you will never hear it again."

Both you and Felix could back the claim that he had never moved as fast as he did when you said that. He had jumped up so he was on his elbows, facing you with wide eyes.

"No!! Please! You were so good!" He cried out, making you laugh at him. You just gave him a wink before you got to your feet and went to get the groceries you had left in the hallway.

Seungmin

"How about we go in there? Maybe I can find you a shirt?" You spoke after pointing to a store.

You were currently out shopping with your boyfriend, Seungmin. He had asked you to get him an outfit, not for any special occasion of anything, just for shits and giggles. It was your favorite type of dates, the ones where you don't really plan anything, you just end up doing fun and silly things.

Seungmin nodded and you soon dragged him into the store. The layout of the shop was like any other, so you soon made your way to the back where the mens clothing was.

As you were casually roaming the racks of clothes, the speakers soon started playing one of your favorite songs, making it impossible for you to not hum along. You kept looking at the different items of clothing on your left, Seungmin behind you, looking through the clothes on your right hand side.

Soon, the song picked up, you quietly jamming along, allowing yourself to softly sing along as there were no other customers near you.

Your hand suddenly slid over a material that caught your attention. It was a green oversized tee, with some colorful and funky letters on the front. You cut yourself off to turn around and show Seungmin the shirt, asking him what he thought about the item.

You held it up, but no reply. "Seungmin?" You tried again. It was odd seeing as he was looking at you with a slight smile, yet he was not replying to your question. You then lowered the shirt and waved your hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You okay?" You asked him once he gently shook his head to re-focus his eyes. He nodded gleefully.

"Sorry, your voice was just so good that I completely forgot where we were." He admitted, giving you a look. You pursed your lips and spun on your heel, so he wouldn't see your burning cheeks.

I.N

Date night! You and boyfriend Jeongin had just been at a local restaurant for a cute night out. Nothing overly fancy, just a chance to enjoy each others company, since you both had been busy lately.

After you had paid your bill, the two of you went for a walk to enjoy the warm, evening air. With nowhere in mind, you just casually wandered down the street, your hands intertwined as you swung them back and forth, pulling and pushing at each other in a joking manner.

"Woah, when did this get here?" Jeongin suddenly asked as you passed a building with a bright neon sign hanging out front. You looked to your side to see what it was he was talking about.

Karaoke, the neon sign read. You turned back to your boyfriend and gave him a smug smile, hoping he was thinking the same as you. He returned the smile and suddenly you were being shown to a private room by the hostess.

The first few songs were just the two of you messing around, screaming ABBA into your respective microphones. At one point while picking the next song, Jeongin saw a song he really wanted to do, but as you didn't know the lyrics, you decided to sit this one out.

He belted his heart out to the tune you found unfamiliar, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Jeongin was after all a singer in a world-renowned band- boy had talent.

The song came to an end, resulting in you giving him a standing ovation as he playfully bowed repeatedly.

"I'm your biggest fan!" You raised your hands to your mouth and pretended to be yelling it at the 'stage', like he just held a concert for thousands. You both laughed at yourselves before Jeongin announced it would be his turn to sit one out. You took that as you cue to get up from the couch and pick a song.

You were no singer, never was- never will be, at least not in public. So when you had to pick a song, you didn't care if it didn't 'fit your range', or 'suit your voice'. You picked a song you liked and ran with it.

The melody started, and you raised your mic to your lips, singing the words that were showing on the large screen in front of you. You found it wasn't as fun to sing without your boyfriend, but got through the song anyways.

As most things do, the song came to and end. You placed the mic on the table and turned around to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Mid turn, you saw your boyfriend like you never had before. His eyes were wide and his jaw was lose.

"What?" You asked him, uncapping the water bottle and taking a swig.

"Where did that come from?" He asked, eyes still wide as dinner-plates. You raised your eyebrow in a questioning manner, as if you were asking him to elaborate. "You're an amazing singer! How have I never heard that before?"

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and your eyes instantly found the ground, suddenly too shy to look at Jeongin. He chuckled at your reaction, and leaned forward so he could reach your hand from where he was sitting. He then pulled you back so you fell to the couch, crossing your arms over your chest, your shoulders up to your ears by now.

"We have to do this more often so I can hear you sing more!" He stated as he poked your arm, trying to get you to be less shy- and somehow it worked.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-bentley

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laurafett · 3 years

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Unfamiliar Fruit

PART TWO

Friends to lovers, sex pollen Boba Fett x f reader

Words: 6k

- You and Boba are guests in a palace on a different planet. The King serves you some strange food, with the intention of doing both of you a favour -

No mentions of pronouns, hair or skin color, sexuality. Minors, do NOT interact!!

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 18+), oral (m and f), face fucking, spit, cumplay, fingering, choking, slight innocent kink, slapping, degradation and praise kink, mirror sex

______________________________________________________________

With one hand, he pulled the door close behind him. A sigh escaped him while he looked at the maid in front of him. She was wearing something more casual this time, what showed that she also got caught off guard with the message. She waved her hand to signal him to follow her.

“Again, I'm really sorry. I know that this is probably a very bad time, but we wouldn't call you if it wasn't necessary. Also, no one answered when I knocked at your door, so I figured you were with your partner.” Her steps were big while she walked him to the communication center.

“It's not your fault. No need to apologize.” A hand ran over the bounty hunters face. It was hard for him to keep up with the woman in front of him. His erection was still very present and the pain made his legs ache with every new step.

He hadn't cum yet. When he touched himself and heard your orgasm through the comlink he thought he would, but then you said those words. Said you wanted him to touch you. His hand stopped in the second the last word left your mouth.

At first, he thought he was imagining things but he didn't. He heard your voice so loud and clear, the words repeated themselves in his head over and over again.

Never ever, in his entire time knowing you, would he have thought you liked him in the same way he does. But right now, a little spark of hope made its way into his heart. Sure, you were in ecstasy and still reeling from the affects of the fruit , but he would have been damned if he didn't even try to find out if you really meant what you said. And he did. Thank the Maker.

“How are the symptoms going so far? You don't look too bad but your partner?” Her questions cut through his thoughts. Boba drew his eyebrows together in confusion.

The woman's head turned around to look at him, after he stayed silent. “You know, from the fruits.”

“He knew what they were going to do to us?”

She laughed a little and looked back into the direction she was walking.

“Sure he did. He actually wanted to do you a favor after being away from your 'partner' for so long.”

His eyes widened at her words. This was what this all was about? The King thought you two were in a relationship? “Me and my partner are not together in that way. Why did he assume this?”

Her figure stopped for a second and turned back. The man could see the surprise in her blue eyes. “You two are not- Oh, Maker.” She cut herself off and thought about something. “We... we thought you two were... Oh no. I'm so sorry.”

Sorrowful eyes looked up at him.

“It was just... the way you talked about your partner and the way you two looked at each other... We really thought the two of you are in a relationship, that's why The King decided to get you those fruits.”

Her hands started to shake and he could see that her eyes started to tear up. Today was really not the day he wanted to deal with this.

“It's alright. Forget about it. Just take me to the call with my other partner.”

The maid nodded and started walking again. Both of them stayed silent for the rest of the walk. Boba was confused. Were his feelings for you so obvious that the King really thought you two had a romantic bonding? He told him about you, but he couldn't recall what exactly he said about you. Probably not much, after all of this was business.

When the two arrived at the communication system the woman walked away to give him some privacy. Fennec's face was simmering as a blues light in front of him as he approached the holograph in front of him.

“What's wrong?” His voice was annoyed. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to go back to you and finally do what he was wishing for, for so many nights.

“Hello to you too. I see you don't even wear your armor around here, it seems like you got comfortable.”

Boba rolled his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. He wasn't in the mood for this banthashit right now. “Just tell what you need. I don't have much time.”

“Busy, huh? I can see that.” Even though Fennec was just a hologram he saw that her eyes wandered down his body. A smirk played around her lips.

He realized that his whole body was on display for her and stepped closer to her face, covering everything underneath his shoulders.

“Fennec.” He sighed.

A light chuckle fell from her mouth. “Alright, alright. Do you remember the guy you made a contract with two months ago?”

The man brought his hand up over his mouth and thought for a second. His eyes wandered back to Fennec, the look in them telling her he had no idea.

Boba was good in what he did, he has always been. He kept track of the people he talked to, noted all of his partners down, had all the contracts sorted, he knew what he was doing. Just, in this moment he couldn't focus. It was hard for him to stand upright and follow Fennec's words.

“Great.” Her words drowned in sarcasm. “Kero Raff. The Twi'lek from Coruscant. You made a contract with him about the slaves on Tatooine. Some of your men would free them and he would take care of them when they arrive at his base. Remember?” He nodded. “Well, he isn't happy about the money we sent him, he wants more or he's out. He's wants a response, or he will hop of today.”

“How much more?” He leaned his hip against the table behind him. His intention was to finish this as fast as possible, not wanting to waste any more time.

“That's the problem. Wait a second I wrote down some calculations.”

Boba frowned and rubbed his eyes. This couldn't be real.

You were laying on your bed again, sweaty and shivering at the same time. The tears stopped some time ago but you were still not able to control your breathing properly. One of your hands was between your legs, trying to get another orgasm out of you but it just didn't work.

Blood was pumping quickly through your veins, the adrenaline making your body buzz. Every muscle was tense, like you were about to have the worst cramps in your life. The fingers in your wet cunt hurt from moving but you didn't stop, not wanting the pain to become even worse.

Your fingers slipped back inside your dripping hole. You grew even more wet with every passing second, you were sure the sheets under you were already soaked too. With a fast tempo you wanted to force yourself to have another climax, but without Boba talking to you, it felt like it was impossible.

His voice was like a song stuck in your head and you listened to it on repeat. The little pantings during his sentences, sounding like he forgot how to breath normally. Maker, nobody did to you what he did to you with only talking. Beside the fact that you fell for him a long time ago, his words were doing things to you you couldn't describe. There was something so arousing about him you weren't able to point out.

Maybe it was the fact that he told you that he wanted you, for quite some time now. You still debated with yourself if his confession was real or just something you made up in your head. Boba wasn't someone to talk about personal stuff. He rarely did it, even when it came to Fennec or you.

Your eyes squinted shut when you felt just the smallest amount of heat rising in your lower stomach. Trying to focus on the picture of Boba's head between your legs in your mind, you brought your second hand down to your core to start rubbing your clit.

Whispering his name, you did what he told you when you two masturbated on the comlink together. Imagining it was him, his hands inside of you and his dark brown eyes locked with yours. The movements of your hands got sloppier and finally you felt yourself getting close.

You recalled the conversation with him, replayed the way he called you 'Princess' and 'Little one' over and over again until you pushed yourself enough to let go. Silent moans filled the room and your body arched up. You felt yourself clenching around your fingers, while you rode out the light aftershocks.

This orgasm wasn't even close to the first one you had, way too weak and less helpful than the one you had with Boba guiding you through it.

You couldn't tell if the pain got less or if you just got numb after this amount of time. Both hands fell beside your head, not being able to keep them moving without getting a cramp. If Boba wouldn't come back soon, you would have to think about other options to get rid of the pain and to be honest the best idea you had by now was jumping off the damn balcony.

The bounty hunter was furious. They managed to build up a connection to the man and now he had to watch Fennec and Kero arguing. Boba suggested to just give him the money he asked for but his partner tried to talk him out of it. He couldn't tell how long this discussion was already going, but he sure knew that he was beyond pissed and fed up. His body was slightly shaking and he didn't know if it was because of the anger or the pain that still flowed through him.

“Enough!” He screamed at the two holograms in front of him. Both pairs of eyes looked at him, waiting for what he had to say. “I don't have the time nor do I have the nerve to keep listening to you two. Kero, I will give you twice as much credits if that's what you want.”

The Twi'lek with the light green skin started smirking and nodded. “This sounds like a fair deal.”

“Boba! What the hell?” Fennec protested against the man.

“Great. Fennec, write it down in my books. We will see each other soon.” And with that, he broke the connection and let out a deep sigh. He rubbed his hands over his head before he turned to leave the room.

The maid that led him here was still standing in the long corridor they walked through before. She smiled weakly at him and started walking him back to his chambers. Not a single word was spoken on the way back and this time it was Boba setting the pace, so she had to keep up.

His head was full and empty at the same time. He couldn't keep his thoughts away from you now that you were even closer to him than before. With every step closer to your room, his blood started to pump faster and his cock twitched at just the mere thought of you.

The two arrived back at the corridor where she picked him up some time ago. “Thank you.”

He said silent with his eyes locked to the door of your quarters.

The woman nodded and was about to walk away, when the bounty hunter snatched her arm to stop her. “It doesn't matter what happens or whoever may call tonight. I wish no further distribution.”

She nodded a second time..

“Yes, sir. I won't let it happen.” And with those last words she was gone. Boba's look fell on your door again and he rushed into its direction. He was about to open the entrance when angst made its way into his head.

He was gone for quite some time, what if you were able to get rid of the pain yourself? What if the pain got less and now you saw things in a different light? His hand drew away from the doorknob. You asked him to touch you, but you weren't in the right state of mind. Maybe you thought about it and came to the conclusion that it wasn't right to do this.

“Shit.” Boba whispered to himself. Since when was he thinking about such things? He never doubted himself in anything he did but you made him think of things he didn't even consider before. You made him ask himself about so many of his decisions. He didn't care about anyone's opinion until he met you. One day, you would be the death of him, he saw it as clear as water.

Still drowned in his own thoughts, he didn't realize how the door to your room got opened. You heard him swearing and thought he was about to return to you but after waiting some more moments, you got impatient and wanted to see what was taking him so long.

When you opened the door, his back was turned to you. You heard that he muttered something to himself but you couldn't make out what exactly. So you reached out to him, carefully touching his shoulder.

The man jumped in surprise and turned around, now looking at you. His breathing stopped when he saw that you were only in the green lingerie he caught you in before the dinner. Both of his eyes roamed your body up and down until they found yours again.

“Do you still want to...” You didn't finish the sentence, too afraid that he might have changed his mind.

Boba's eyes wandered back down to your breasts, his cock jumped at the sight in front of him. “Yes, fuck I-” But before he could keep talking, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into your room.

You pressed your lips on his and started kissing him as if it was the last thing you would ever do. His hands found their way to your waist, squeezing it. Your teeth bit his lower lip and tugged slightly while your hands went to his pants. One of them brushed his dick through the thin material and his hips jerked up at the feeling.

Breaking the kiss to get some air, you drew your face a little more away from him, his lips trying to chase yours. You smiled at him, finally able to open his trousers and letting them fall down to his feet. In a matter of seconds, Boba got rid of his shoes and pants just to bring his hands back to you, connecting his lips to yours again. Trying to signal him to pull off his shirt, you tugged at the hem of it and he broke the kiss to throw it off as fast as possible.

His big hands captured your face once more as he started to kiss you again. You let your hands glide over his chest and to the waistband of his, also black, briefs. Feeling his smile against your lips yours let go of his and made their way down his throat. A deep growl escaped him when you licked over his Adam's apple, feeling the vibration on your tongue.

Your mouth went deeper, starting to bite and lick over his collar bones. His eyes were pierced on you, watching every single movement you made. Your tongue moved over his chest, through the small patch of dark hair till down to his navel. Placing a light kiss just underneath it, your eyes went up to meet his while you settled yourself on your knees.

His dark pupils were even wider than normal and you could see the lust burning in them. Not breaking the eye contact, your mouth followed his happy trail, till you reached his briefs. A mischievous smile painted your lips when your fingers hooked around the waistband of his underwear. Not being able to wait any longer you pulled them down and Boba's cock sprung free.

With big eyes, you mustered his twitching member in front of you. He was thick, thicker than anyone else you ever been with. His length was a little bit more than average but you were sure that he knew how to use every single inch of it. The pubic hair around the base was dark and short, like he knew what would happen today and prepared himself for it.

One of your hands reached around his cock and the man grunted. It wasn't the touch that was drawing those sounds out of him, no, it was the sight in front of him. Your hand seemed so small compared to his hard dick. His hips twitched and he accidentally pumped himself in your hand, what made him moan even louder.

Looking back up to him through your lashes, you gave him a few slow pumps before you brought your tongue to the underside of his base and licked one long stripe up till you reached his tip. The man groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. With some feather light licks, you collected the precum on the head of his cock. Boba's hand flew up, going directly to the back of your head, trying to hold himself steady.

Carefully and not too fast, you brought your lips around his cock, starting to bop your head back and forth. With each move you tried to take him deeper into your mouth. You looked back into the bounty hunter's eyes, seeing him watching you.

“Now look at that. Just when I thought you couldn't look any prettier I get proven wrong.” Your tongue swirled around his dick, making him hiss through his teeth. “Kriff, Princess you look fucking gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”

You took your hand away from around his base and brought both of them up to his thighs, looking for something to hold. Keeping the eye contact you tried to signal him that it was his turn now. One of his eyebrows rose, not really understanding what you meant.

Nudging your nose up, you told him that he was in charge now. Finally understanding, Boba started to slowly pump himself into your mouth.

“So this is what you want? You want me to take control, little one?” A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest while you nodded eagerly. “”How could I ever say no to you?”

And with that, his pace started to pick up. His hand was clenched into your scalp, bringing your head towards his hips with every thrust. Spit started to drip down your mouth, making its way down your chin and breasts. You relaxed your throat when he continued to go deeper, breathing steadily through your nose.

The now brutal pace made you gag around him and tears started to swell up in the corner of your eyes.

“Look at you. Taking me so well. You are so good for me.” He panted, shoving his dick even deeper into your throat, keeping you there. Your nose was nuzzled in his pubic hair and the tears now started to fall down your face. An animalistic sound escaped him before finally letting go of you.

You pulled his member out of your mouth and started to breath heavy, trying to get air into your lungs.

“Fucking hell, you feel so good. But as much as I would love to cum into your mouth right now, I think we should wait with that so I can help you too.”

Shaking your head, you reached for his dick again and started pumping it. “No. Believe me, you will be able to cum more than just once. You need more than one orgasm to get rid of the pain.”

Boba smirked down to you. “Princess, I'm a bit older than you, this won't work.”

Still touching him, you tried to argue. “But you have the same reaction as I do. Fuck your age, it has nothing to do with the situation we are in right now.” Your tongue licked his dick again, wanting him to change his mind.

When you brought him back into your mouth, he gave up. It didn't take long until he took charge again, pushing his cock faster and faster into you. His hand went down to your throat, wanting to hold you but instead he felt himself.

“Kriff, can you feel that? Fuck, I can feel myself in your throat. You are such a good girl, taking me so well.” You squirmed at the nickname and tried to push your thighs together, but it didn't work at giving you any sense of relief. Taking one of your hands off his leg, you sneaked it between yours and started to rub your clit.

The wetness in your folds was already on your thighs, before you even touched yourself. You were almost dripping and it would be no surprise if you were able to wring out the panties you wore right now.

Boba's eyes fell down to your hand and that was it. He pushed himself so deep into your throat one last time that your whole face was pressed against his abandonment. Grunts and curses rolled over his lips and you could feel his hips twitch. Not a second later, you tasted his salty release on your tongue, stopping your own hand.

After some moments, he came back down from his high, pulling himself out of you. With innocent eyes you looked up at him, opened your mouth and showed him the mess he made.

“Oh, you like that, don't you? You want to swallow it? Wait a second, little one.” His hand grabbed your chin in a hard grip and tilted your face up to him. He brought his mouth above yours, tipped his lips and let a drool of spit drop into yours. You couldn't help yourself but moan at this kind of filthiness. “There you go and now swallow it, every single bit.”

With a theatrical loud sound, you swallowed every drop and opened your mouth once again to show him that everything was gone. He hummed at the sight.

“If I wasn't still hard I'm pretty sure this would've changed that, but I guess you were right when you said one orgasm is not enough.”

You grinned up at him. “Told you so.”

His hand came down to your cheek and stroked it slightly. “That's my pretty girl. And now I should give you something back, after you've been so good for me. Get up and lay down on the bed.”

Without hesitation you got up, went to the bed and laid yourself down. Boba stood in front of you, pushing your legs apart with his hands before he went on to the bed on his knees. He hovered over you for a second, enjoying the view. A smile formed on your lips, which he gladly returned.

“Marker, you are so fucking beautiful.” You were about to giggle but his lips crushed down on yours, shutting you up.

The kiss didn't last long because his lips started to wander down your body. Normally he would have taken his sweet time with you, would tease you but he knew that the symptoms of the fruit were still going through your body, so he decided he would do it another time.

One of his hands sneaked around your back, clasping your bra open. You pulled your arms up to get the straps off. Finally free from it, he tossed it behind him, not carrying where it would land.

“I actually thought you would rip the clothes off of me.” You purred into his ear. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, don't you worry princess. This will happen sooner or later, I promise. Also, I want you to keep this set as a memory for our first night together.” A soft expression painted your face. “And because you look fucking hot in it.” You started laughing at his words.

“To be honest, I would have loved to tear it down since the first time I saw it on your body, but now I'm glad I didn't do it.”

He gave you one last smile before his head dipped back down, starting to kiss your breasts. You moaned at the feeling of his wet mouth against your hard nipples, but he didn't spend much time there, already on his way down to your core, leaving kisses and marks all over your body.

Now that he was finally where he wanted to be the most and where you also needed him the most, he wasted no more time. Getting on his knees in front of the bed, just like he did earlier, he pulled your panties down.

You hissed when the fresh air hit your wet center.

“Shit.” You heard the man in front of you swearing and you popped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You are so fucking wet, princess. I know it's because of the reaction but do we want to try and see if I can get you just as wet when we go back home?”

You could feel yourself clench around nothing by his words.

“Dank, yes, Boba.”

“Oh, I love it when you say my name like this. Let's see how loud I can make you scream my name tonight, alright?” And with that, he brought his mouth to your cunt, starting to eat you out like a man's last meal before death.

Your head flew back and you started twitching at the feeling of his tongue between your folds. Boba brought one of his hands up and sneaked it underneath your thigh, pressing his flat hand against your hip to hold you in place.

His tongue flipped over your clit, making you whimper. Your hands grabbed the sheets underneath you, trying to hold on to something.

Suddenly you felt a sharp slap against your heat and you looked down. The man's face was inches away from your heat, dark, devouring eyes looking at you.

“Look at me, while I make you feel good. I want to see your face.”

Not brave enough to look away again, you kept the eye contact while he brought his face back to you. His tongue circled at your entrance, while his nose nudged against your clit. He moaned into you and the feeling rumbled through your whole body.

The bounty hunter raised his other hand, carefully thrusting one of his fingers inside of you. It felt like all the air got pushed out of your lungs. And before you were even able to get used to this feeling, he added a second finger.

The fast pace he started off with was enough to make you go crazy. It was hard to hold eye contact but you forced yourself to keep going. His two fingers crossed inside of you, stretching you out, while his tongue kept flipping over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He curled his fingers, making you arch your back and moan out his name.

You felt the heat rising in your lower stomach and your legs began to shake. “Fuck, Boba. I- I'm gonna cum.”

Without taking his mouth away from you, he started talking. “Go ahead. Cum all over my face, little one.” He curled his fingers one last time, sucked your clit between his lips and you were done.

Your legs pressed together around his head, keeping him in place. Your eyes fell shut, while a high pitched moan left your lips. Both of your hands still clenched at the bed sheets, ripped them out from their place under the mattress. Shaking and twitching, you pushed Boba's head away from you. Feeling nothing but the hot pleasure filling your body, you tried to calm down your breathing .

After some moments, you finally came back down from your high. You looked down at Boba who still sat on the floor by the bed. With one finger, you signaled him to come to you and so he did.

His body was over yours again, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the sensation. He rubbed his hard cock against your inner thigh.

“Kriff, I want to fuck you so bad, can I-” He wasn't even able to finish his sentence, because you already turned the both of you over so you were on top. Your hands were on his chest, steadying yourself while you grind your wet heat over his dick.

He brought his hands up to your waist, helping you move. When you were sure he was wet enough you rose up a little bit, grabbed his cock and lined him up at your entrance. Slowly you started to lower yourself down on him. Maker, he was so fucking thick.

Boba's dick stretched you like no one else had before. It was almost painful, but the pain was way too good to feel bad. When he was finally seated inside of you, you both took a moment to adjust yourselves to the new feeling.

“You are so fucking tight, Princess. I probably won't last long with this pretty, little cunt around me.” He breathed out underneath you while he squeezed your waist. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasms so you didn't mind. The most important thing was, that you were finally able to feel him.

You brought your hands back to his chest, holding yourself up and started to move. With the first few thrusts, you could already feel how his tip hit just the right spot in you, so you started to move faster.

Boba's hands helped you to keep the pace and from actually falling over. It felt so good that you were almost sure that you couldn't feel the pain anymore. You moaned and whimpered on top of him, looking directly to the part where both of you met, being sure that you never seen something so fucking hot.

The man grunted and had to hold himself back from thrusting into you from beneath. He saw that you were out of breath, at the end with your power. But Dank, if you weren't a sight to behold. Your tits bouncing with each thrust, your eyes closed in pleasure and your mouth open, making the prettiest sounds he has ever heard.

“Shit. You look so good right now, fucking perfect. If you could see yourself right now, Princess.” His eyes fell onto something behind your body and he finally knew how to finish all this in the right way.

“Stop. Hey, hold on for a second.” You stopped in your tracks looking down at him. He smiled in your confused face.

“Is everything alright? Did I hurt you?”, the panic in your voice set a warm feeling in his chest.

“Don't worry. Everything is fine, just move with me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about but his broad chest was already pressed against yours, while he scooted over to the edge of the bed. A wicked smile danced around his lips, while you were still just confused.

“Get up and turn around.” You had no idea what his plan was, until you turned around and saw what was in front of you. The fucking mirror. Boba's hand pulled you back down to him and with his other hand he pushed his cock back inside of you.

This was something new. You have never seen yourself during sex, but something in you got excited at the thought. The man pushed your legs apart again and laid them over his own, so everything was on full display.

You saw your cunt, wet and swollen, stuffed with the cock of the man you were in love with. He smiled at the sight of your face, curious about what is happening in front of it right now.

His hips made an experimental thrust while to try to catch your reaction. Another thrust and he wasn't able to hold back anymore. He pumped himself in and out of you, watched your whole body reacting to his actions. It turned him on even more.

Your eyes wide in pleasure, your mouth open, your body bouncing with his and your hands on your thighs. Fucking perfect. Not being able to help yourself, you let your head fall back on to his shoulder. But that wasn't the plan. One of Boba's big hands grabbed you by your throat and pulled your head back up.

“No. Don't look away, or I won't let you cum. Look at yourself getting fucked. Look at how fucking perfect you are for me.” The hand around your throat tightened and you clenched around his dick at the feeling.

“Oh, you like that too?” He added a little more pressure, making you slightly light headed. “This is the best fucking cunt I've ever fucked. You want me to keep doing that? Hm? You want me to keep fucking you even when we get back home?”

An obscene moan left your mouth at his words. Kriff, if it was for you, he could fuck you for the rest of your life. You were sure that no one would ever be able to give you the feeling Boba gave you in this moment. You never wanted to miss out on that again.

His other hand went to your cunt and landed a sharp slap on it. A scream coming from your mouth, so loud that you were sure everyone in this palace heard you. The familiar feeling built itself up again, already bringing you to the edge with how sensitive you were.

“I asked you a question, little one.” His grip around your throat let loose a little bit so you were able to speak.

“Yes, fuck yes. Boba, you can fuck me whenever you want to, please. I'm yours, only yours.”

His hand returned to your cunt and started rubbing your clit. “That's exactly right and now cum for me. I can feel that you are close. Cum all over my cock.”

And with that, he pushed you over the edge again. Your legs twitched on top of his, making it very hard for him to keep pushing into you. White noise filled your ears again, almost making you deaf. Boba let go of your throat, letting your head fall back on his shoulders while you screamed his name on the top of your lungs.

The aftershocks were so strong in your body that you almost missed his question.

“Where do you want me to cum, little one?” His movements got sloppier with every thrust, just waiting for you to tell him where he can finish.

“Inside.” Your voice was so weak and silent that you were sure he didn't hear you, so you brought your last strength together and raised your head again to look into his eyes through the mirror. “I want you to come inside me, Boba. I'm safe.”

And that was all he needed to hear. You could feel how his release pumped into you, his cock twitching while he finished. His hands on your waist squeezed you so hard, you were sure he would leave bruises there. Your name fell from his lips, with many other swears.

Coming down from his high, his sweaty forehead fell to your shoulder and you could feel his hot breath on your back.

After a while of just sitting and trying to catch your breaths, he brought his head up again and put his chin on to your shoulder. “Fuck.”

“Yes, exactly.” You laughed breathless and he joined you. Carefully you tried to stand up and whine when his cock slipped out of you. To both of your lucks, he was already soft. As soon as you stood you felt his cum running down your thighs. He smirked at the sight.

“That’s actually kinda hot.”

“Ah, fuck off.” You said, pushing his shoulder and made your way to the bathroom on shaky legs. With a washcloth, you cleaned up the mess between your legs, doing your best not to touch any of the highly sensitive parts. Washing your face too, you looked at yourself in the mirror and all the marks Boba left on your body. You knew that he would be proud of them.

Stepping out of the refresher, you saw that no one was in the room. You looked to the balcony but the door was closed too. A bad feeling slowly started to overcome you. So, this was what this all was about? Not even his clothes were still here. Maker, you were so stupid. How could you think that the King of the Underworld would have interest in having a real bonding with someone?

You wanted to scream and cry, but before you were able to do so, the door to your room got opened and Boba stepped back inside. Fully dressed and in his hands a white bed sheet.

“I just thought it would be better to get some new sheets instead of sleeping in the dirty ones.” He went to the bed and threw the old sheets on to the floor, putting the new one on the bed. His eyes fell on your, still naked, figure standing in the middle of the room watching him. “Are you alright? Do you still feel some pain?”

“Are you gonna stay the night?”, you asked. The man let go of the sheets and went over to you, carefully taking your face in his hands.

“If you want me to.” He pressed a light kiss to your nose. “And if you want to, we can spend every night together from now on.”

You looked at him with a soft smile.

“That would be great.” He slightly pulled your head into his direction and kissed you deeply.

“Now, I think we should go to bed. We have to go back home tomorrow, without getting poisoned by the King again.”

“Poisoned by the King?” A confused look washed over your face while you made your way to the bed. You slid underneath the sheets right next to Boba after he got rid of his clothes again. He opened his arms for you and you went over to him, laying your head on his chest. His arm tugged you closer to him.

“Yes. It seems like the King thought we were in a romantic relationship, so he wanted to do us a little favor by giving us an aphrodisiac, so we could have fun.” He explained. And finally you were able to catch up.

“Ahh. Okay, that makes sense.” Some of the events of this current day went through your head and now you really got what it was about with all the expensive underwear, beautiful dresses and looks from the other guests at dinner. There was just one thing you didn't understand.

“Wait. Why did he think we were a couple? I've been here for only one day and the first time they saw us together was at dinner? That doesn't add up.” A sigh left Boba's mouth.

“The maid told me that they assumed that by the way I talked about you.” Your head shot up and you looked down at him with raised eyebrows and a wicked smile.

“What? Really? What did you tell them about me?” His dark eyes studied your face, while his hand went up to stroke your cheek.

“To be honest, I don't even remember. But I know for sure that they caught up on my love for you way sooner than you did, Cyare.” You leaned down to kiss him.

“You didn't catch up on my love either. Even though it was pretty obvious for a certain amount of time now.” With a hand to the back of your head, he held your face close to his and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Just good to know that we both had the same feelings for each other for such a long time and both of us weren't able to realize it.”

“Fennec will never let go of this. She will say 'I told you so' for the rest of our lives.” You chuckled against his face.

“Oh, she sure will. We will never hear the end of it.” Boba said with a smile across his lips. “But we should sleep now. I don't want to leave too late tomorrow.”

You brought your head down to his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

The man kissed the top of your head before he whispered:”Good night, Princess.”

“Good night, Boba.” You said, snuggling closer to him.

This trip was totally worth it.

_________

Taglist:

@darthmama1618

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #smut #sex pollen #the mandolorian #the book of boba fett

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cuubism · 3 years

Text

keep time on me

magnus’s years catch up to him sometimes.

bingo square: long distance

cw: symptoms similar to dissociation, amnesia, and/or dementia

AO3

Magnus had been staring into space for the last three hours. Alec kept glancing up at him, wondering if he’d go back to whatever he’d been working on, wondering if he was okay, but nothing changed. He didn’t look upset, per se. Just distant.

Alec made his way into the apothecary, crouched by Magnus’s chair and rested a hand on his knee, carefully, so as not to startle him.

“Hey.”

The apothecary was deathly quiet, so Alec kept his voice low too, not wanting to disturb the air.

“Hey. Magnus.”

Magnus blinked and shook himself. His hand dropped instinctively to cover Alec’s.

“Oh. Hello, darling.” His voice was sort of… faint. He took in the concern in Alec’s expression. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know, is there?”

Magnus frowned. “Why would there be?”

Alec turned his hand over to twine his fingers with Magnus’s. “You’ve been in here for hours and you’ve barely moved.”

Magnus smiled, but there was no life in it. “Just thinking, I suppose.”

Alec tugged at his hand until Magnus looked at him properly. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course, dear. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just having a bit of an off day.”

This felt like more than just an off day, but Alec couldn’t pinpoint how. Magnus didn’t seem ill, or even particularly upset. Just sort of… hazy. Like the lines between him and the world were blurring.

Alec leaned in to kiss him, very gently. “Why don’t you come to bed with me? It’s getting late.”

Magnus frowned. “It’s only six.”

“It’s ten p.m.”

“Oh.”

Alec tugged at his hands. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s not just an off day.”

Sleep had almost claimed Alec when Magnus finally spoke. He was lying on his side, facing away from Alec, arms tucked in against his chest.

Alec laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not?”

“No. Periodically I—” he took a shuddering breath. “I lose track of time.”

“Because you’re immortal?”

Magnus nodded. “We are… unmoored from time, you could say. We experience so much of it, and without ever really aging, that time sort of… starts to lose its meaning, its relevance, gets all jumbled up into one big mess that’s just the past.”

“And that’s what’s happening to you now?”

Magnus nodded again, and Alec tugged on his shoulder until Magnus finally turned to look at him. His gaze was sad, his glamor down.

“I get messed up,” he admitted, “between… today and yesterday, this year and last century. It’s just all—” he waved a vague hand—“there. All at once.”

Alec rubbed a hand up and down his arm. “How long does it last?”

“A few days. A week, sometimes. Not long. But long enough to”—he let out a wavering sigh—“throw me off my axis.”

His eyes were looking sort of watery now, so Alec pulled him into his arms, let Magnus tuck his face in the crook of his neck. Magnus’s breath was hot against his skin, and Alec held him tight, as if that alone could anchor Magnus to this moment.

“Magic doesn’t help?” he asked.

“Magic makes it worse,” Magnus said. “It already alters my connection to the natural world. Makes me more a part of everything and less a part of myself. And the thing is, while we as— as— beings with—consciousness or what have you, may experience it that way, time is not, in fact, linear, it is in fact—” he shifted away from Alec so he could talk with his hands as he sometimes did, and waved one around in a scribbly sort of motion—“like this, and because I have magic sometimes I can experience it that way, but this is not very compatible with the mind of a normal three-dimensional being, Alexander!”

He was breathing heavily by the end of this, hand still raised as if to make another point, but all out of steam.

Alec pushed himself upright and sat back against the headboard, tugging Magnus up to sit beside him and wrapping an arm around his torso.

“Alright, so no magic then.”

Magnus sighed and collapsed against him, leaning his head on Alec’s shoulder. “It’s too late for that. It’s a part of me.”

“Okay. I know.” Alec tried to think. “Let’s just stay home, then? Will that help? Just stay in one place and ride it out?”

Magnus frowned. “Perhaps. I’ve already cancelled all my engagements for the next week. It’s worth a try.”

“Then that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes. I do.”

Magnus gave up protesting, leaning in closer to Alec. “Very well. I only hope I don’t frighten you with my forgetfulness.”

The next week passed fairly normally, as far as Alec could tell. They didn’t do much, just lounged around the house. Alec caught Magnus in similar distant spells a few times, but it never really seemed to advance further than that. Magnus even said as much, late one night, admitted that this time seemed to be going much more smoothly than normal.

So when, a week later, Magnus said he was going to London for a conference, Alec couldn’t think of much to justify the unease he still felt at the idea of letting Magnus out of his sight.

“Call me if you don’t feel well?” he implored, pressing a kiss to Magnus’s forehead.

“Of course.”

And then he was off through a portal, and Alec could only hope that everything was truly as back to normal as Magnus seemed to think it was.

His phone rang the next evening.

“Magnus? Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Magnus’s voice to come over the line. When it did, it was shaky. “What, a man can’t just want to hear his husband’s voice?”

“Magnus.”

Magnus let out a long, trembling sigh. “Very well. I may not be feeling… perfectly alright.”

Alec stood up and started to pace. “What happened?”

“I was trying to get back to the hotel, but I got lost—well, not lost, I know London like the back of my hand, but this isn’t where I meant to go—” he heaved in another breath— “I— I don’t know what came over me.”

“Are you okay?” Alec asked, recalling what they’d discussed that first night. “Do— do you know where you are?”

“Yes, I just don’t—” he cut off, and for a moment Alec thought the call might have dropped, but then Magnus continued quietly— “know… when— oh, London was a mistake, there’s too many memories, I can’t—”

Alec could practically hear him spiraling. “Magnus, breathe. It’s okay.”

“Is it?” He sounded like he was hyperventilating. “How could it be—”

“Listen, it doesn’t matter when, okay?”

Magnus stopped panting for a second out of shock. “What?”

“It doesn’t matter when you are. Figure it out later. You know where you are. Are you somewhere safe?”

“I—” Alec pictured Magnus looking around, “yes, it’s my apartment building. My old apartment building. I still keep a flat here. Kept. Fuck, I don’t know. I’m sitting in the stairwell.”

“Okay, good, just stay there and try to breathe.”

“I’m trying.”

“Do you think…” Alec tried, already guessing the answer, “do you think you can portal home?”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “I’m not sure I know where home is,” Magnus said quietly.

Alec let out a long breath, grip tightening on the phone. “Okay. That’s okay. Can you ask a friend to portal you? You were at an event with a bunch of warlocks, right?”

“Right. Yes. Of course. Um, I can try Tessa— no, wait, she’s at the Labyrinth now, um— there’s Ragnor— no, fuck—”

“It’s okay, forget that, bad idea, um—I’ll figure something else out.” Alec pulled a blank sheet of paper off of Magnus’s desk and scrawled a note to Catarina, sending it off into flames with a quick scribble of his stele.

“Magnus, you still there?” he asked when he was done.

No response.

Alec’s heart jumped into his throat. “Magnus?”

Finally Magnus’s voice came tremulously over the line. “I’m sorry, darling, I—” his voice broke— “I think I lost track of who you were for a moment.”

Alec tried not to let the pain of that embed itself in his heart. It wasn’t Magnus’s fault.

And it wasn’t total memory loss, at least, or so Magnus had said. Magnus wouldn’t forget who Alec—or anyone else—was, he would just—lose track of him amongst his millions and millions of memories. Lose the context of him. And with Alec occupying a comparatively small portion of his life, these lapses were only inevitable.

It still hurt, though.

“Okay, that’s okay, just—”

“How is that okay?” Magnus demanded. “How is that at all okay?”

“It has to be. Right now I just want to make sure you’re safe, okay?”

Magnus sighed. “Okay.”

Alec waited, hoping his fire message to Cat—I need a portal to Magnus’s old flat in London asap, please—was specific and urgent enough for her to be able to help him.

A portal opened in front of him as a fire message flew through the air into his hand. Alec read it quickly:

Get him back safely, please.

“Just stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

The portal deposited him outside a nondescript black door on a narrow London street. Alec hoped Magnus’s memory of where he’d once lived was as accurate as Cat’s.

He eased open the door and stepped into the stairwell. He spotted Magnus immediately, hunched halfway up the stairs with his face buried in his knees, hands gripping his hair.

“Magnus?”

Magnus jolted upright and stared at him. Tears glimmered on his cheeks. “A— Alexander?”

The relief that coursed through Alec at Magnus’s recognition almost knocked him off his feet. He rushed towards him, crouching on the step below him and taking his hands.

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay?”

Magnus nodded, though tears were still dripping from his face. “I— yes, I’m okay now. I’m sorry for dragging you out here.”

“Don’t do that. Come here.” Alec wrapped a hand around the back of Magnus’s neck and pulled him in to his chest, holding him tight. Magnus sank against him, tucking his face into the crook of Alec’s neck.

“Do you know… when you are now? Is it any better?”

“A little bit,” Magnus said. And then admitted, “You help.”

“I’m not—what, too modern or something?”

“Modern is good, in this case. But no, it’s not really that. You simply—ground me, my love. You’re steady. I need that.”

Alec held him a little tighter, heart squeezing at his words. “Good. I’m glad. Just hold onto me, okay?”

Magnus nodded, clutching at Alec’s shirt.

“If you make the portal and I navigate, do you think we can make it home?”

Magnus nodded again, but said, “You do have to navigate, however. If I try to tell it to go home, there’s no saying where we’ll end up. Lord knows the portal would just try to take me to you, but with you in the portal with me, we’d end up in an endless feedback loop and never get out.”

Alec knew what Magnus was saying about portal magic was important, but he was still kind of stuck on, If I tell it to go home, it’ll take me to you. He wondered if Magnus knew what it did to him to hear him say things like that, buried though they were in his ramblings about magical theory.

“Alright, I’ll navigate, then,” he said, standing and pulling Magnus to his feet beside him. He released him so he could make a portal, but kept hold of one of his hands.

Magnus spun the portal open. His hand was shaking, but the magic itself looked steady enough. Alec squeezed his hand once, looked to him to make sure he was ready, and lead him through.

Once in the living room, Magnus pressed tight to Alec again. He was shaking, tears returning to his eyes, breath coming quick and ragged.

Alec held him close, running a soothing hand up and down his back. “Easy, you’re okay now. Shhh, you’re okay.”

Magnus took Alec’s face between trembling hands. “I— I forgot you, I almost—”

Alec held him tighter, spinning him slowly in place. “It was just a spell, it would have passed—”

Magnus shook his head. “How can you love someone who could lose track of you so easily?”

“Hey. It’s not about that. It wasn’t your fault, it was just a hard day, okay? I love you.”

Magnus was quiet for a long moment. “I could— I heard your voice over the line, I knew how important you were to me, I could feel it, I wanted to know you, too—but I just— I felt so muddled, I—” his voice caught over the words—“when I remembered and realized I’d forgotten you, I was so frightened.” He swallowed harshly. “I’m going to— to— invent a potion, or something. I can’t take this anymore. I don’t want to feel like that again.”

Alec pressed a kiss into his hair, and Magnus sighed, quieting, tucking his face in against Alec’s chest.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Alec asked. “It’s late.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Then stay up with me.” Alec rocked Magnus back and forth, just gently. “What helps you when you feel like this?”

Magnus thought about it, and said quietly. “Music. It forces me to experience time as it happens. Instead of all… jumbled up.”

“Let’s put on some music, then.”

Magnus finally looked up at him, smiling faintly. “You always make things so easy on me.”

“I want to.”

“And I appreciate that, but I don’t want that to make things hard on you.”

“You’re not.” Alec ran a hand through Magnus’s hair, dragging it down to cradle his face. “It’s harder on me not to do anything, because I hate seeing you upset.”

Magnus softened, pressing a hand to Alec’s chest. “You’re too good to me.”

“There’s no such thing. Put on some music. If it helps you.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and a record started turning, gentle blues drifting through the living room. Magnus sighed as he heard it, the steady beat, the easy tempo of it.

“Dance with me?” Alec asked, holding out a hand for Magnus to take. “And look, I know I have no rhythm, but just follow me anyway, yeah?”

Magnus took Alec’s hand. “You give yourself too little credit, darling.”

“Are you saying I do have rhythm?”

“No, you don’t.” Before Alec could protest, Magnus continued, smiling, “But I like dancing with you anyway. Especially when you lead. Like I said before, you steady me. I have… a bit too much rhythm at times. It needs some balance.”

Alec laughed, and started to turn Magnus in a slow circle, attempting to follow the beat of the music. “So I keep you on your toes.”

Magnus followed his steps carefully, matching Alec’s rhythm. “You remind me what it’s like to be learning. To be experiencing something new. Especially when I’m getting lost in my head, in everything I’ve already experienced.”

Alec broke their slow circle to lean in to kiss him, and Magnus smiled.

“Just like that,” he said, kissing Alec back.

“You know…” Alec started hesitantly, after they’d danced for another moment. “When we first started dating, I was worried there was too much distance between us. Too much… time.”

“I remember. You weren’t the only one.”

“I was thinking about that today. I thought I might...” he bit his lip “…lose you to it.”

Magnus watched him, evaluative. “And do you still think you will?”

Alec let out a long breath. “Maybe?” When Magnus started to shift away, he tightened his grip on him and pulled him back in. “But—it doesn’t matter. Because wherever all that time takes you…” he shrugged helplessly “…I’ll just follow.”

Magnus tried to pull away again, shaking his head. “Alexander—”

“Don’t. Please. You can’t change my mind. So just—keep dancing with me, okay?”

Magnus fell back into step with him, but he was looking up at Alec now, watching him with this sort of… wonder. And sadness. Like he couldn’t decide which.

“Okay,” he said finally, pressing close to Alec’s chest, holding tight to his hand. “Don’t turn off the music.”

#malec #malec fic #shadowhunterbingo #my writing

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dollsonmain · 2 years

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Hm.

I’m starting to think eating salad is doing more harm than good.

I’ll be ok in general, less swelling, less discoloration (I turn purple) etc. for a while when I’m stuck with too-salty Bad Kidney Food, and then I’ll finally have salad available which is supposed to be Good Kidney Food.

But then I start eating salads and get puffy and purple again. It’s not like I eat nothing BUT salad, I still eat bad kidney foods, too, because there are so few good kidney foods.

But it seems to be worse when I have salads.

I suppose it could be the dressing. It could also be that when I have salads I eat less salt in general (which I’m SUPPOSED to because of hypertension) but at the same time I’m probably not eating enough salt and the turning purple and things are from chronically low blood pressure.

Also annoying to be told by two different doctors to eat less sugar for my kidneys and eat more sugar because I have chronic hypoglycemia and that exacerbates the chronic fatigue.

Right now I have the whole smelling very wrong in a cloyingly sweet way thing going on which is my body kicking sugar out my sweat glands instead of using it properly, afaik.

I should track this stuff more closely but when I do, I obsess over it and that’s no good, either. Also the best tracker I have yells at me for eating certain amounts of certain things and that can’t be disabled. I need a tracker that JUST tracks, and has a place for me to input symptoms so I can better narrow down what foods are turning me into Violet Beauregard.

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danideservedbetter · 3 years

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Day 7, 8, 9, and 10 / Elaboration

Hey y’all! I said yesterday I would elaborate a little more on what my doctor’s visit yesterday told me, and here I am to do just that! I meant to yesterday, honestly, but by the time I got home my medicine had worn off and that wasn’t looking very likely 😅😅 But regardless!!! Here is what my results look like and honestly? These things probably have been affecting my sleeping disorder to a degree I’d previously disregarded without detailed info I’ve gotten from these tests.

Full write up under the cut!

—I got two major tests done, blood work and a genetics test. Back in my hometown the nurses couldn’t even figure out how to open the damn swab, but technology here managed to map out my entire DNA sequence which is utterly NUTS to me.

—My body is deficient in almost every important vitamin known to mankind, which makes sense because my diet is not… the best 😅 So, I started on several (SEVERAL) supplements to start out.

—I say start out because it’s very likely that I’ll be taking vitamin C and some liver enzyme through an IV once a month. A younger me might’ve thought something like this was scary, but at this point I’m so desperate to be healthy that getting nutrients drip fed into my system for them to work quicker sounds just fine to me.

—Other than that it’s normal lifestyle stuff. Eat more fruits and vegetables (I’ve been eating olives by the can for like days and I intend to buy fresh fruit packets for breakfast whenever I can afford them) as well as staying more active— which I DEFINITELY have been since I moved closer to New Orleans, in Louisiana proper where my dad lives.

But enough of the boring medicinal stuff. I’m sure you guys are much more interested in the whys— is there a reason my hypersomnia is so bad? Is there a deeper explanation than “lack of vitamins bad and you should feel bad”?

Well, yeah. YES. The genetics test revealed a metric fuckton to say the least 😂😂😂 but the most important was what kinds of diseases I’m predisposed to or how my body can process certain types of hormones/enzymes/proteins. Things like why caffeine won’t work for me (my body processes it very fast but not very thoroughly) or my metabolism being the strongest recorded genotype (which is why it’s been so hard to gain weight). Below, I’ll go into detail about stuff my new general doctor’s in-office geneticist (I still can’t believe that’s a thing I’m typing) has revealed about my disorder.

Naturally, this is specific to me because of my parents and our family lines. Maybe if you see info pertinent to yourself, looking into genetic mapping may be a good idea for you?

We are pretty confident that I have Idiopathic Hypersomnia. The reason for this is that a tiny link has been found between individuals who contracted mononucleosis in their childhood and adolescence and individuals who fell within the sleep cycles indicating IH. Now, IH will be genetic sometimes, but considering I’ve tracked my disorder to starting around 14, the same year I contracted Mono, the coincidence definitely doesn’t seem like… well, a coincidence. My blood test shows that I do in fact have the antibodies in my system, and they’re doing something… odd.

The geneticist found some “active” antibodies. Well, not some, really 😅 Basically, she’s surmised that these antibodies have a hair-trigger response and can react to any given environmental factor (stress, hunger, etc.) to the point where they activate as if they think they’re **fighting off a virus that’s been out of my system for ten years.** Of course this takes up an inordinate amount of energy, which is her hypothesis as to why my hypersomnia is so random and varies in intensity. The goal for this summer is flushing these antibodies out of my system.

My previous neurologist tried out a couple stimulants and then shit insurance prevented me from trying any others. So I’m stuck on something traditionally prescribed for adhd. A narcotic. *However* since my body is severely dysfunctional in general, the way I describe it is I basically have to induce a high to stay awake and function normally. We want to eventually get me off of these kinds of drugs, of course, since prolonged exposure weakens their effects and they’re highly addictive.

Another in credibly interesting thing we found is that I'm lacking in three major hormones. However, it's not because I don't produce them. I've never identified with symptoms of depression (anxiety, certainly, but not depression) yet for most of my life my childhood general practitioner insisted I had it. Well, the geneticist found that while I'm lacking in serotonin, dopamine, and melatonin, which yes are the two major mood enhancers and then the hormone that induces sleep, it's not because I can't produce them. It's because my neural transmitters are so damaged from a less-than-good diet and years of exhaustion that they simply can't process them. Just as the antibodies can have a hair-trigger response to environmental factors, so too can these processors. Simple things like a good meal, my high from my stimulants, or even micro dopamine shots from getting things done can activate the transmitters. Another thing on the docket for the summer is fixing these permanently with treatments of vitamins and supplements.

My stimulants have caused appetite issues, unfortunately, and that plus Covid at the beginning of this year caused me to get down to my lowest recorded weight ever, 94 pounds, which I haven't weighed since before I hit my final growth spurt way back in middle school. My dad does physical labor (he's a contractor who frames houses in the humid heat of the Deep South lol) so he's used to feeling tired. When he caught Covid, he said that he'd never felt as tired, drained, or out of it in his entire life. He never gets sick and hardly goes to the doctor and NEVER takes off work because of health, but in his last few weeks before full recovery he had to take off early multiple times. He was floored when he described the brain fog and exhaustion and I told him that I had no idea I even had Covid, because I just thought it was my disorder acting up. It was only when my grandmother started feeling tired that we got tested and we tested positive.

All that said, we think that there's hope for a future for me. She said that while there's no cure for IH, the cause that I have may can be mitigated by changes in exercise, diet, routine, and medication,to the point where I may mitigate symptoms of my disorder entirely. I'm still setting up appointments with a new neurologist here in the city, though, because technology is of course more advanced here.

And again, taking all of this into consideration, while it was looking likelier by the day, we've both agreed that I'll be here in the city 'til New Years. Which means no school this semester, but if I can go back in spring at more than 20% functionality and maybe succeed, I'm perfectly fine having to remain on break.

However, another good update: I weigh 103 pounds! I'm steadily gaining weight-- which means the other medication, the one for my appetite, is working as it should and as long as I stay on-track I should reach my goal of 120 by the end of the year as well.

So, yeah! That's what it's looking like. I have another appointment to go more in depth with the results tomorrow, but for now I'm planning out my week since I decided to let myself rest all last week. I'd love to finish helping out for our current podfic, ACTUALLY start the damn 100 Theme Challenge (LOL), finish betaing something that's been on hold for months, properly reconnect with our discord, catch up on all the media I fell behind on, clean my damn room, and establish a budget for this week on what I can buy. A more specific plan for today will follow, but til then, I hope this gives everyone some insight on what I'm looking at and how I'm gonna try to fix it.

Xoxo

Dani

#idiopathic hypersomnia #TW: weight #TW: anxiety/depression mention #health post #genetics

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amelialincoln · 3 years

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Electric Love pt 4

It was hard to keep track of time in the windowless room. The sterile bright light that hung above her was constantly on. After a couple of days she wasn’t sure whether they were bringing her breakfast or dinner. She slept a lot. Sara had warned her that her first trimester would come with extreme tiredness but it hadn’t hit until the day after her initial capture. The symptom brought her relief though, her bruises were still healing and she’d been worried that something may have happened. She was almost happy when the morning sickness returned in full force but knew that it would confirm any suspicion of her condition to her kidnappers. Which also meant all the more reason to keep her here.

She was surprised by how long it was taking Cal to find them. He was definitely out of practice. If the circumstances were changed she’d probably be chuckling at the idea of him ordering guards around frantically in an attempt to rescue them. She found herself worrying for him instead. Other than the manacles that were beginning to open old scars on her wrists, she had definitely been in worse situations. Obviously their bed at the apartment beat sleeping on a floor covered in her own vomit but compared to her former imprisonment experiences, this hadn’t been awful. Until today, when she realized that unlike when she was in Maven’s clutches, she had more than herself to look out for.

“Get up,” Pig ordered from the metal doorway. He’d received his nickname due to his chunky looking appearance and scrunched up face. She’d taken up observing him as he brought her meals. He was the only social interaction she’d really been receiving. He definitely had his nose broken at some point and never got it properly fixed. Mare realized she’d never laid eyes on such an ugly silver in her life. Usually they were mesmerizing. All of the most breathtakingly beautiful people she knew had silver blood coursing through their veins; Pig however, was a disgrace to all of them. “I said, get up.” She took in a sharp intake of breath as he kicked her in the side. He made up for his appearance with his strength. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” she bit back a groan, “but I’m kind of shackled to the ground.” She straightened her wrists out for him to see.

“I knew that.” He spat, rolling his eyes. He removed a ring of keys from his pant loop and twisted a specific one into the lock on the ground. “Follow me,” he grumbled, allowing the rest of the chain to awkwardly trail along the ground. “The train is almost here.”

“What train?” She knew she was asking herself more than him, not surprised when he didn’t answer. Suddenly the rumbling of the building every hour made sense. They were under train tracks. Where the fuck in Norta were they.

“We're running out of time, they’re going to move her,” Cal argued. Ever since they’d gotten a possible lead on where the rebels were holding Mare it took everything he had not to storm into the pathetic outpost and tear everyone and everything apart. They were lucky that the rebels had a mole or they never would’ve found them. The hiding spot was so good it was almost impressive. The outpost was from a war long before Cal was even born. Built under the railroad tracks, it was a perfect harboring area for anyone trying to have easy access out of the kingdom and into the states. After the railroads started to be outdated and the war finally came to an end, the outpost was abandoned. It didn’t even appear on today’s battle maps. They had gotten too lucky and Cal wasn’t about to let that change. Everything lately was reminding him of the weeks Mare spent in Maven’s clutches and it seemed like now there was even more at stake than there was back then. The other officers didn’t seem to agree. Apparently the couple’s personal reasons weren’t pressing enough to go in blindly in order to get her out as quickly as possible. Cal knew they were just trying to do things properly but if he had to spend one more night glancing at the empty spot beside him in bed, he would probably go insane.

“We’re so close, Calore. We just need one more day to finalize plans.” Officer Leadger was a good man. Cal knew he had a wife and kids at home and could tell he was sympathizing with him but Cal was done with being asked to wait.

“It’s time!” The large concrete doors swung open forcefully as the man that Cal had grown to appreciate over the last week burst into the room. He was sweating profusely as he raced to face the large group of generals. “You can’t wait.” Cal waited for him to say the words that he’d been expecting for days now. “I just got news to prepare for transport. You have two hours tops. I got here as fast as I could and I’m sure my departure raised some flags. If they weren’t on to me before, they definitely are now.”

“Which most likely will cause them to speed up this entire process,” Leadger was flipping through maps of train routes and bases like a maniac. “We were expecting them to move to the closest base near Corvium. Let them go, it’ll throw them off thinking we’re onto them and we’ll send out a message to the Westlakes base to keep an eye out. They won’t get far.”

“What if they aren’t planning to go to Corvium?” Eve stated the obvious. She had been sitting unassumingly in the back of the hall for days now. Not offering a single piece of advice or input the entire time. Cal couldn’t help but wonder if she felt guilty. He hoped she did. “You can’t be sure.”

“We go now,” Cal shouted over the eruption of officers trying to share their thoughts. He’d lost count of how many times he’d said those words since finding out her location.

“For once he’s right,” Eve’s voice rang clearly over the commotion. “Once they’re on a train they can ride it out to Montfort for all we know. You can act like this kidnapping is all an inconvenience but have any of you thought about how the disappearance of Mare Barrow is going to affect you?” You could hear a pin drop in the room. “This little red girl is the face of more than any of us can even begin to understand. For the first time in history our country is not divided and withering in poverty. You let this little rebellion win, you let Mare Barrow die and you are diminishing the hope of recovery and you are asking for another fucking war. Do you want to see what will happen when you have hundreds of newbloods, who are more powerful than any silver in this room, tear this kingdom apart because you destroyed the one person who they could rely on?” Silence hung in the air like a thick wool blanket. “Didn’t think so.”

x Mare probably shouldn’t have electrocuted Pig. It was just that it was too easy. It also felt like a joke because the smell of fried flesh kind of smelled like bacon. It seemed meant to be too since she hadn’t hit so accurately since the baby was conceived. The humor was pretty short lived. The silent stormed into the train car as Mare lay curled up on the ground, letting out occasional groans of pain. She originally muffled the wear sounds by biting forcefully into her sweater. Unfortunately, out of pure distaste, Pig’s little friend had decided to wrestle her into a position where she was lying on her stomach and tied her hands behind her back. “I told you not to move her until I was ready!” The silent raged, shoving Pig’s friend against the wall and wrapping her slender fingers around his neck.

“What did you idiots think was going to happen?”

“Brutus said that we had to move quickly.” Mare was surprised by his lack of fear. “Anthony fled as soon as we mentioned leaving. He’s a traitor.” The man spat. “Brutus just wanted to speed up the process and then she killed him.” His voice was filled with hatred and Mare could feel their eyes on her. All her strength was sucked out of her as she sensed the silent moving towards her.

“You little, red, whore,” the woman glowered as she reaped Mare of any current that she was still clinging to until she could hear her own blood pulsing in her ears. “I’m going to kill you.” The calmness in her voice echoed throughout the train car. “And I will smear your filthy blood all over the kingdom until people like you find their fucking place.”

#marecal #marecalfanfic #marecal fanfic #marebarrow #mare barrow #tiberias calore #red queen

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

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The Morning After

pt. i

Peeling your eyes open, the only thing that greets you is darkness, throbbing pain at the forefront of your head and tongue glued to the bridge of your mouth. Slowly rising to a seated position also welcomes a stiff neck pain that helps you realize you aren’t currently in your own bed, nor is this your home at all since you don’t own a leather sofa. A grey blanket tangled around your frame is a welcomed couch partner and is far better than waking up to another body drooling beside you. The warmth from it is pleasant, though everything else is confusing. Not to mention, your bladder feels as though it’s about to burst through your pelvis any second now.

A glass table in front of you, barely visible at all due to blacked-out curtains preventing any form of light from burning your eyeballs further into the back of your head than they already are. But, you can just say make out that there’s a small amount of water left in a glass with two tablets placed beside it. Without thinking about how you may have left the nightclub with a drug cartel leader and how this could be acid you’re currently gulping down, you pray that it instead wipes out the crushing headache and nausea that’s building in your stomach.

Fuzzy memories begin to flash through your mind. Dancing with your friends, downing way too many shots because the bar had an offer on buying multiple for less, but finally, she appears once more, the mystery woman. You recall clambering into an uber with her, Sooyoung, you just say recall her telling you her name. Making it up the mountain of stairs to, well, here. You assume. Everything else is a blur. A blur that you’re grateful for because it’s likely blocking out a lot of embarrassing things you’d rather forget and never think about again.

Shuffling your feet in place and hoisting yourself up requires more strength than you’d like to admit but is a rookie mistake as the room begins to spin in circles, faster the more you remain standing in place. Your only thoughts being ‘find a bathroom immediately’ otherwise you’ll have to add on to the embarrassing moments tally chart your memory has begun to calculate without permission.

Walking proves to be even more difficult as your ribs collide with what appears to be a kitchen countertop.

“Shh!” you whisper towards, well, no one. Only the counter and darkness are before you but the need for silence is very important during this stealth mission to Sooyoung’s bathroom. You set a mental reminder to next time ask for a tour of a stranger’s house whenever you decide to go for an adult sleepover that ends up not being very adult at all.

A hallway with a door at the end of looks to be promising as your feet guide you groggily toward it. Perhaps drinking floor cleaner would have been the better option, after all, the symptoms you would get from drinking that have managed to infiltrate your body anyway but maybe whatever products they put in it would stop you feeling so rotten inside. Or just end the suffering a lot quicker.

Once you’re within arms reach of the handle, muffled sounds can be heard on the other side of the pristine white wood that your ears don’t even attempt to decipher. Without thinking too much about it, you’re already opening the door and stepping inside of the room before you can convince yourself that this is a bad idea. What awaits you once the frame is no longer hiding away whatever was making the noise is surprising to say the least.

“Oh, hey!” A voice you know you’ve heard before speaks, though you’re unsure where you know it from. “I didn’t realize that was you passed out in there. You sure do have a type, Sooyoung.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the two women currently sitting on what is by far the largest bed you’ve ever seen. Sooyoung, who you easily recognize from the hazy flashbacks of managing to insult her in her own home. But, the other girl whose side profile is immaculate, looks and sounds familiar, however, your mind is drawing a blank. She shifts her position so that you can see her face entirely, rather than just one half of it and picks up on your confusion.

“Ah, Haseul. We met last night, you thought I was flirting with you.” She extends her hand out to you, but the sharp twitch in your pelvis reminds you of the impending outburst your bladder has been threatening you with, and your body hunches over in pain. Had it not, your temples may have exploded instead due to remembering just how you bumped into Sooyoung in the first place through Haseul and her free drink offer.

“Are you okay?” Sooyoung asks or rather half yells as she dives out of her seated position to stand alongside you. She gently wraps her arm around your own to steady you.

Your dry throat is barely able to choke out the word bathroom yet she’s rushing you toward it before you can stop her. Of course, it’s on the other end of the apartment and of course, your still intoxicated brain would choose the wrong option. Of course, Haseul is here for reasons you can’t quite decipher in your current state.

Sooyoung opens the bathroom door with her leg. Her legs on show now since her trousers have been replaced with bed shorts. You can’t help but admire how toned they too look until her abs flash in your mind and the hangover is not the only thing making you lightheaded. She positions you in front of the toilet and stares blankly unsure of what to do next.

“Do you… do you need me to help you?” She tentatively asks.

“Oh no, I’m perfectly fine with using your toilet.” Despite your answer, she doesn’t move. “Seriously, I’m fine to pee alone.” It finally clicks that you need privacy for this and that she doesn’t need to be present for post-non-sexual-but-still-sexually-tensioned-sleepover-peeing.

She leaves the bathroom and closes the door behind her a little louder than you’d like. The entire bathroom is just one big swirl of color as your eyes adjust to the lighting. It’s a lot cleaner than your own, everything has its own little holder or place. You recall how she’d mentioned having moved in not so long and put her tidiness down to that instead of her just being a neat freak that must have everything in order to function as a human properly.

After relieving yourself of what feels like an entire ocean, you check yourself out in the wall mirror placed opposite a walk-in shower. Big mistake. The hair thrown in every direction and make-up smudged across your face can’t be attractive for anyone but especially not someone who looks like Sooyoung. Your eyes catch sight of the shower behind you in the reflection, however, your manners are still intact even if your dignity is not.

You head back toward the bedroom where you found Sooyoung and Haseul, however, the latter appears to have vanished in the time it took you to use the toilet which was probably longer than you think. Sooyoung’s back profile is currently sticking out of the walk-in closet with no clothes hung up inside. Instead, suitcases yet to be unpacked line the floor.

“Hey, um, do you mind if I use your shower? I just realized how terrible I look.” Your voice startles her, however, the smile on her face as she nods her approval doesn’t show her fright.

“You don’t look terrible, by the way. Just like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward.” A smirk rising on the left side of her lips. Lips that are still plump and teasing you to taste them. “Is there something on my face?”

Her words break you from a daze you hadn’t even realized her physical features had put you under.

“No, sorry. I zoned out for a second, it’s the hangover.”

“Are you sure it isn’t my legs you couldn’t take your eyes away from earlier? Or how about my mouth that you keep looking at now?”

Laughter joins the smirk that grows bigger with every word she speaks, her body moving closer to your own and threatening to invade your personal space until it finally does. It’s suffocating. She is suffocating and intoxicating all at once. More so than the alcohol from just several hours ago.

It’s the right choice to escape her alluring presence than to be sucked into it whilst feeling like the human form of both death and hell combined. The walk back to the bathroom does feel rather lonely when you take a quick look over your shoulder to see Sooyoung simply stood in place watching you walk away, her gaze intense yet warm.

The warm water blasting out of the showerhead not only drowns your body in heat but also silences out the booming noise you’ve been unable to stop hearing in your ears. The music from last night must have been way too loud for you to still hear it ringing now. Except, just beyond the blaring dance track, you can faintly recall what Sooyoung’s whispered words to you sounded like.

“Maybe you’ll still get lucky.”

Perhaps focusing on this whilst ridding yourself of the grim after effects of drinking too much in a shower that doesn’t belong to you isn’t the best idea. The desire to extinguish the flames you’ve brought about within your own head from thinking about Sooyoung will need to be put out somehow but here is not the place for it. Not with the very person whose lit the match mere metres away in the other room.

As if things couldn’t get any fancier inside Sooyoung’s apartment, or just life in general since the aura around her screams expensive, her towels are the softest thing to ever grace your skin. You’re certain that someone personally grabbed part of a cloud to place it into the fabric. Either that, or you’re just in desperate need of a cure-my-hangover hug.

Gentle knocking on the door breaks you from daydreaming about what it would be like to receive such comfort from the very person now testing the handle. It opens, because you definitely didn’t accidentally on purpose miss the huge lock on the door.

“Oh, you’re done. Good.” Sooyoung says, eyes unsure of where to land since all that’s covering your modesty, what’s left of it, is a towel.

“Yep. Thanks.”

She stands awkwardly for a second before pulling her hands from behind her back to produce clothing.

“Here,” She hands over light grey sweatpants and black t-shirt that would likely fit both of you at once. Her hands reach down into the cabinet below the sink and she pulls out a toothbrush still in the packaging. “I promise, I just keep one for if ever the bristles on mine break, I don’t have it just for a moment like this.”

“Moment like what exactly?” Your words coming out are far more cocky than intended. It definitely is best to leave the confidence to Sooyoung.

“Well, a one night stand that didn’t go as planned, I suppose.”

Before you can offer her a response, which you’re honestly unsure how you would have replied other than to just grab her finally and release the tension in the air between you both, she leaves you to finish cleaning yourself up.

Heading back toward the living area, the smell of coffee and sunlight have replaced the overwhelming smell of stale alcohol and darkness. Your stomach is unsure if it’s happy with this change, though you can’t protest since you’ve already overstayed your welcome.

Your phone and bag sit on the floor beside your bed for the night, the blanket neatly folded on the arm of the sofa. There are several notifications awaiting you once you grab the device, all of which from your friends curious about the mystery brunette you left early with. Locking it and ignoring them seems like the best idea for now, at least until you’re out of Sooyoung’s apartment and back into your own where you can get back to wallowing in self-pity.

“Coffee is on the counter if you want some.” A light shout echoes from the kitchen area.

“No thanks, I’m just gonna go.”

As you reach the door, an arm swings across it to block your path and exit out of Sooyoung’s world.

“Where are you going?” She gently asks. Her eyes sad and lips curved down into a small frown. You’re sure there’s never been a cuter sight in your life.

“Home,” Your words do nothing to remove the solemn expression on her face. “Thank you, for last night and everything this morning but I have to get going.”

She drops her arm from the door and takes a step back but your own body doesn’t move. You don’t take this opportunity to leave. Instead, your hands take on a life of their own as you cup her face and raise her head so that her eyes can meet your own.

Though you can’t be sure, you’d argue with anyone that the slow descent of your lips to place firmly against Sooyoung’s in this very moment feels the exact same as the euphoric rush people get when they skydive. You can feel your heart plummeting into your stomach and back up to your throat as your mouths move in sync with each other. It’s inviting and full of passion. You can tell that Sooyoung has been chasing after this moment just as much as you.

Her arms wrap around your frame instinctively and pull you in closer to her. Her mouth slips past your mouth and down to your jaw, scraping her teeth softly down the side of your face to your neck. She bites ever so gently on the skin between your neck and collarbone. A hummed moan escaping your lips.

“Come with me.” It’s said as if you have a choice, however, Sooyoung is already pushing you backward towards the bedroom you found her in this morning with Haseul, which reminds you to ask about her later, far more important things are to be explored currently.

The pair of you crash land onto her mattress, both still clinging onto each other and unwilling to break the hold. Her legs glide over your body to straddle your hips as she sits lightly atop of you.

“Are you sure?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised that Sooyoung is checking with you that this is something you want to go through with. A big part of why you didn’t dart out the door the second you had the chance is because you’re not sure when you’ll ever randomly meet someone quite as perfect in every aspect as her, including knowing not to take advantage of a situation and when to request consent such as now.

“Yes.”

A whispered response is all you’re capable of producing yet you’ve never felt more sure of anything in a long time. You want Sooyoung and she very clearly wants you. The second she hears it her hands are roaming freely to remove your t-shirt that you don’t plan to return as the extra space in it is way too comfortable to offer back. Plus, it smells just like her. Soon, your torso is entirely bare to her eyes and she drinks all of you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” There’s a sincerity to her voice that makes you feel small under her intense stare.

Her body dips forward and lips coast over your chest gently lapping at your nipple, one of her hands resting gently on your outer thigh as the other finds its way to your own as she laces your fingers together. However, the tight feeling in your chest that the small piece of intimacy gives you vanishes as she shuffles her body lower until she’s stood at the bottom of the bed looking down at you. Her hands grip onto the waistband of the sweatpants as she lowers and then removes them completely.

Sooyoung once again leans down back onto the bed, her hands moving up both of your legs at the same time whilst her lips trail not far behind until she’s mere inches away from your eagerly anticipating core. Her head raises to meet your eyes once more, you assume for permission once more which you offer her with a nod that you were barely able to give her as your head has replaced the pain with swarming thoughts about Sooyoung, her mouth and being able to feel her touch you.

You can feel the expanse of her tongue running up and down the inside of your thigh, her left hand once again finding your own as her thumb strokes across your wrist. There’s a safety to being with Sooyoung like this that no one else has ever previously granted you. Whilst her eyes are hungry with lust and determined to eat you alive if she could, there’s also a desire to make sure you feel comfortable.

An experimental lick sends a jolt through your spine. Your free hand grasping at the sheet below you as your head throws itself back into the pillows behind it. A low whimper is the only encouragement you can offer Sooyoung as her mouth begins to suckle at your hardened clit. Hips naturally bucking up to try and accommodate to the natural rhythm she’s set about creating, however, she places her hand flat onto your stomach and forces your body back down into the mattress.

“Let me.” is all she says before getting back to exploring your body and burying herself further and further into you.

Had you known the night before that this is what Sooyoung had in store for you, you’d have forgotten about the shots of tequila a lot sooner. The pleasure in which she’s offering you up on a platter far better than any amount of alcohol in the world whilst making you feel a completely different version of drunk.

Her tongue quickly picks up the pace as you manage to just stutter out her name a few times in between low groans. Your knees begin to turn inwards on themselves against Sooyoung’s head as she remains exactly where you need her to be.

Peeking down whenever your head doesn’t react on it’s own, you can see that she’s still got her eyes glued to yours, her pupils wide and boring into your own whilst her mouth laps up all of your juices proudly. Your body writhes around in desperation until the euphoria finally hits and all you can see in your mind is the proud smirk that Sooyoung is likely wearing after being able to make you come undone so easily.

To your surprise when you’re finally able to open your eyes again, her mouth is too occupied with kissing your hip bone to care about being overly proud of herself. Her fingers drawing patterns on your inner thigh.

You have to jam your eyes shut otherwise who knows what you may end up doing with Sooyoung being so… perfect in every way. Including this very moment where things should be awkward, they simply aren’t because she refuses to let it be. The one night stand’s that are shown in movies or that you’ve heard horror stories about from your friends are nothing like what she’s creating for you right now.

Perhaps, she does indeed like you beyond this. Beyond a sexual encounter from a drunken night out. Beyond stumbling into bed with each other when the opportunity not to was seconds away. Perhaps, you like Sooyoung too.

“Good morning.”

Though you hear her speak, you decide to simply grab her hand once more and hold it beside you rather than reply. Because yes, it is indeed a good morning and nothing should ruin this moment between you both.

#loona #kpop #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #loona scenarios #ha sooyoung #loona yves #yves #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #loona reactions #loona imagines #yves x reader

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hellstenglow · 4 years

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Fiveya Meta: they need to talk

Endure me, I am on a fiveya-train and my thoughts don’t shut up.

After watching the most recent behind the scene videos of TUA season 2 we can conclude that they did make senseless choices in the plot because in some cases they had to. For example in the case of the snow storm created by Harlan in the final episode, that was added to the script because suddenly there have been a snow storm on the outside set the days before the scheduled filming and they couldn’t clean the place enough, in time for the recording. The snow was added.

I also think they could have written some of the characters better and given them real development (*cough* Luther, Ben *cough*). I wasn’t even a fan of the whole “Vanya lost her memory” thing, but I’ve read that Steve Blackman (the showrunner) doesn’t want to diverge from the original content too much (which is a bit silly to say since they did make major changes since season 1, but okay). I guess that’s why Vanya’s amnesia was still there, although they treated it differently. In the comics it was Mom-Grace who helped Vanya to find herself again and her own value, in the show it was Sissy who did it. I thought it was kind of a hint to the comics the fact Sissy resembled Show-Grace a bit (blond, kind and a mom). Did I think it was unnecessary to have a love interest for Vanya right after season 1? I did, but I justified the choice by thinking that the show wanted to give Vanya a taste of what real love (not like Leonard’s manipulative and abusive love) is supposed to be. I also thought it was a way to show how Vanya needs to stop clinging to the first person who gives her affection, attention and treats her with kindness. I hope she’d realize that and work on herself and family in season 3, first and foremost.

Even with the evident flaws I enjoyed season 2, especially because I decided to treat it as a passing by (detour/digression) chapter in a longer story. All Hargreeves siblings in the ‘60s tried hard to make a new life and ignored their actual life (Allison, Luther, Klaus) or had a convenient amnesia (Vanya) or focused on something too much to lose track of what matters (Diego). Everyone except Ben (who was not treated once again as a full character despite the apparent level up the PR promoted) and Five (who once again was running around in panic mode to stop an apocalypse). Remember Vanya saying, “New timeline, new me.” And Five replying “That’s NOT how it works.”? I may give the writers more credits than it is due, but I hope those two lines were some kind of meta messages for the more attentive viewers. Those two lines can explain perfectly season 2 to be honest.

Nobody can know how long a tv show would run, a fact that expose us to uncertainty. It’s always a gamble trusting writers and showrunners to deliver a good story, but all it’s fair game and one has only to accept it. I do not trust any of them, but I cannot help myself and still hope that they will not ruin everything. With all this said, let’s talk about something I think the show has to tackle in next seasons: Five and Vanya are two points of a theme that needs to be addressed and solved. They need to interact, talk and close their open theme together.

This is not a cohesive meta and I probably will lose myself in too many details, but I hope the message I am trying to convey will arrive. This is only my reading of the show and theories, so you can disagree. I just hope you’d find something interesting and maybe help someone to have a different perspective on what’s going on and where (I pray) the show will go. Here the points I will talk about, if you are in for a very verbose essay, please click on the “keep reading” button. Meanwhile I’ll wear my tinfoil crown and sip some margarita.

Five and Vanya are a theme

It was mean to be Ben

Why the Fiveya’s tension in S2 EP 7’s iconic scene is a symptom of something

I dare to hope in fiveya (at least until proven wrong)

1. We have a theme: Five wants to stop the apocalypse and Vanya is the apocalypse

It’s a twisted joke of the universe that the very thing Five is obsessed about in season 1 (the apocalypse) was caused by the person he trusted the most (“I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust” - Five in S1EP1). The red thread that linked Five and Vanya can’t be more evident, that’s one of the reasons why I started shipping them. The family’s dynamic, the siblings’ relationships and bonds are equally important, they add layers and motivations to the story, but if we strip everything else and look at the core, we all know Five and Vanya are at the centre of it.

It’s not a simple coincidence that Five said “I’m the four horsemen”. At first, it’s just a funny line, because Five is drunk and he described himself as those fearsome figures (because he is the best assassin of the whole world and time. Death incarnated in his humble opinion). You don’t take him seriously when he said that line, you don’t pay attention to it.

However, later it gains a certain degree of truth. Subtly the show tells you that indeed Five is linked deeply to the “apocalypse” (Vanya), as much as the four horsemen (they are the prelude and the bringers of the end) are linked to the apocalypse (in the biblical sense). He lived it. He was trapped there for 45 years. He is obsessed with it. The Apocalypse is his business.

Timid little Vanya is the first person he looked for in the middle of the doomsday’s ruins and arguably his closest friend. On the first day of his return Five only have meaningful talks with Vanya. Five sought her to confide the horror of his memories and share the burden of the truth. He trusted her above everyone else. Then the universe made a laughingstock of him when it was revealed that Vanya caused the Apocalypse. Five didn’t know he was running towards her, despite wanting to go back to his family (her) all his life.

In the first two episodes of season 1 they made clear that Vanya and Five had an intimate bond in their childhood and still cared for each other after so many years, then the show proceeded to separate them until the finale. They tried so hard to keep them far away from each other during season 1 and we all know everything would have been different if they had time to properly talk, process their situation and find a solution together. Of course, the show didn’t give them that chance, otherwise the show would have ended in episode 3 and goodbye drama!

They did not confront each other in the end of season 1, they let Allison take that role because the show built up their connection as sisters and I didn’t dislike the choice. Did it work thematically? No, Allison has no connection with the apocalypse. That’s Five’s business. He didn’t confront Vanya, he let others take the lead in the most crucial moment and with no surprise the apocalypse still happened.

The other apocalypse in season 2 was still connected to Vanya and again Five ignored the cosmic signals and focused on dead ends. Despite knowing perfectly that the butterfly effect can come from any source, he didn’t even think about Vanya’s being the cause of the apocalypse again. Five should have listened Klaus when he suggested that Vanya might have been the cause. Funny how Klaus told him in S1 that he has an addiction and Five aggressively denied it. Funny how saving his family and stopping the apocalypse are always his top priorities, but Five still deny himself (for a reason or another) the time to confront Vanya (the apocalypse).

We have a theme waiting to be resolved: Five wants to stop the apocalypse and Vanya is the cause of the apocalypse. If Five does not confront Vanya the theme will never have a closure. It’s still open right now. It is still there, waiting to be picked up again. There is no resolution.

2. Vanya and Ben’s goodbye

The scene between Vanya and Ben was one of my favourites from season 2 and after pondering for a while I concluded that it couldn’t have been anyone else but Ben the one who helped Vanya in that moment. My theory is that the show will walk backwards the breaking points of Vanya’s life: Ben’s death, Five’s leaving and Reginald’s abuse.

Vanya is not fixed. How could she when she was barely Vanya in this season? “New timeline, new me” she said, but that was just a convenient escapism mechanism. Years and years of mentally and emotionally abuse don’t disappear in one week. The Hargreeves have still a lot to process and resolve, individually and as family. That’s why I hope the show will progress the story in the right direction and actually work on them in season 3. Especially Vanya, who needs to confront her trauma. That’s why the scene with Ben in episode 9 was necessary.

From Vanya’s book:

[…] Our everyday existence was full of evidence that Dad had [...]-pped into treating us like experiments. Not as children, but like animals. And what happened to Ben was the last straw that finally shattered the illusion for the others …

Ben died long time ago and his death was the last straw that shattered the illusion (for the others) that their father cared about them (even in his own messed up way). Everything changed from that moment and each sibling drifted away from one another after that. Ben’s death was the moment Vanya and the rest of her siblings stopped being a family. The definitive step of Vanya’s alienation from her siblings.

There was no place in the group for her. With Five’s absence and Ben gone (he is a caring brother, with Klaus is like that and I can imagine him being kind to Vanya in their childhood too. Although, Ben is not Five and we have seen him being harsh to her in the flashbacks in S1EP10), Vanya was truly lost.

The tearful and important moment between Ben and Vanya was a reverse moment in my opinion. Vanya needed that from Ben, his death heavily influenced the course of her life (everyone’s life) and it was only fitting that Ben should have been the one helping her to start again. It’s symbolic in a sense, but also very factual.

“Sorry that I left without saying goodbye” – Five, S1 EP2

“At least this time I can say goodbye.” – Ben, S2 EP9

I’m using my fiveya-goggles, but we all thought that what Five said in S1EP2 (when Vanya tried to find him at Hargreeves’ mansion) wasn’t just about him leaving her apartment. It’s a very specific line that works on double levels: text and subtext. The subtext of course refers to the day he run out the house and time jumped. I highlighted these two lines from Five and Ben because I think they share the same theme: leaving her without saying goodbye.

Vanya wasn’t on mission with the team when Ben died, and I doubt she even saw his body (or whatever remains were left) when the Umbrella Academy returned. She didn’t even see his manifestation during the Icarus’ fight, too focused in her own power. The scene between them in Vanya’s mind gave both the opportunity to make amend of untold words and missed moments.

Ben is dead, he is the one he cannot return. His departure is permanent, there is nothing they can do about that. However, they can have a closure. Ben needed to be the one first patching to mend Vanya’s relationship with her family, to remind her that she does belong. This sort of second death (finally move on into the Light) has more meaning than the first one, this time Ben completed the mission. He saved someone he loved (he couldn’t stop Klaus from destroying his life with drugs and alcohol) and could trust his siblings to take care of the rest.

I still think Ben didn’t need to die-die, but in a sense it was time for him to move on into the light. He was afraid to go on, but if he could move on so his siblings. It is time for Vanya to move on her own trauma.

(Yeah, I know. I still have problem with the scene because they erased canon in a way and Ben could do a lot more as character. They erased the fact drugs stop their powers like in Klaus’ addiction and Vanya’s pills, so how Vanya was able to use them under LSD? I tried to explain that to myself by the fact “they needed to bs that canon fact in season 1 and ignored it”.

We can also argue that Ben could have prevented the apocalypse in 2019 by doing the same thing, but in their defence S1-Ben didn’t know he could possess a body. Yeah, how did he do that without Klaus’ power help? No idea, that doesn’t make sense to me either. Ahah. I just swam with the flow at that point and accepted it as it is. Call it the power of superpowered siblings’ love. I’ve seen worse plot holes in my life. I can live with this).

3. Pass me the knife, there is some tension here!

From Vanya’s book:

Though prone to arrogance and outbursts, even more than the average preteen, Five was my sole confidante in the years before he disappeared. It almost seemed fitting […] the siblings to leave us, it would be him who [I fully?] […] who fully trusted me.

I said that Vanya’s walking backwards her life’s breaking points. So, after Ben’s death, she needs to address Five’s leaving. Five was her only confidante in the years before he disappeared, as she wrote in her book. Five was very important to young Vanya (and old Vanya needs to remember that) and I bet when he left, that was a scar never healed.

Vanya missed him and hoped for his return, for a while she kept the lights on in the house every night and prepared for him his favourite sandwich. When Five did come back Vanya couldn’t process that fact properly in season 1, all she could think of was that she didn’t want to lose him again. Five on the other hand decided that he would save everyone on his own and for that choice he made a bunch of tragic rookie mistakes.

Miscommunication is their kryptonite and right now Vanya and Five aren’t able to fully communicate at the same level. Reggie did such a good work at parenting that they’re so unfit to deal with their emotions and relationships, that will always be the root of their mistakes.

Same story in season 2, meanwhile Vanya is on the verge to provoke another apocalypse (although indirectly), as usual Five was too obsessed with his own plans and was not even aware of the situation. He knows nobody is insignificant when it’s about altering the timeline, but he always ends to focus on the wrong lead. The show again did incredible summersaults to avoid the two to interact properly and when they interacted things still didn’t work for a reason or another. She didn’t remember her past, he was not entirely sincere with her. She wanted to start anew (having a family with Sissy, easy-peasy), he is trapped again in a run against time to save his family. They are still not at the same page and for the show that is convenient. They still can play with their open theme (my point number 1 in this meta).

I don’t blame Five in S1 for thinking that if the worse happens, they would need to kill her. I think he was in a very delicate state of mind in that moment, he didn’t have time to process the fact Vanya (his favourite sibling and we all know she is his favourite) caused the end of the world. It was disappointing and cynical, but time was ticking fast, and he had been in his “maniacal-panic” mode for almost eight days. I also think he wouldn’t really kill her; he was the one who convinced the others that they needed to take her with them in the time jump. They need to “fix her” (aka help her to never feel alone in the universe and prove her we do love her) or they’re going to make the same mistakes again and again.

Just to be clear I think if Five wasn’t one day from the end of the world and in a rush to stop Vanya, he would had had the same reaction as Old Man Five in S2. His 14-days younger version take it very well “Fair enough” he said and then proceeded to tell Luther how to save Vanya, no mention about killing her whatsoever. Old Man Five had time (10 days more than our current Five) and a direct clue on how to stop the apocalypse (thanks Luther). Nobody was going to kill Vanya.

“Vanya will always be the cause of the apocalypse, unless we fix her.” - Five S1EP10

“Vanya is the bomb. She will always be the bomb.” - Diego S2EP8

Vanya is the bomb and she will always be the bomb unless she heals. A fact that can be added to my number 1 point in this meta, there is an open theme and they need to tackle it. Five and Vanya need to confront each other and resolve it.

This takes me to S2 EP7: the iconic stare-power stand between Five and Vanya. THE TENSION was real, and you could cut it with a butter knife. The first time I screamed at my screen, I felt like Gordon Ramsay in one of those episodes of “Kitchen Nightmare US” when someone finally serves him good food.

Of course, the immediate reading of the scene is that Five needed Vanya to come along and Vanya didn’t want to go because at that point these Hargreeves are still strangers to her (amnesia is so convenient), Sissy and Harlan are the ones she knows and loves in that right moment.

They were still able to cut each other with sharp words and hostile glares though. Five let her have what she wanted, not because he feared her, but because as usual he cares more about her feelings than what he would ever admit. It’s the second time in S2 he let her go, his soft spot and favouritism for Vanya was showing once again! *fakes surprise*

I think the tension shown in this scene is a symptom that Vanya and Five are on the verge of something they will (they have to) confront soon or later. This is the subtext reading I came out with.

Even if you don’t look at it with shipper goggle, you feel there is something going on. They let the viewers feel there is a sensitive something whenever these two have an alone scene together. All their alone scenes have a specific grade of intimacy, they made it clear since the scene in front of Five’s portrait. They care for each other, they love each other (sibling love, platonic love, we-could-have-been-something love etc…) and it’s there. However, Five left and Vanya never truly recovered from that. They didn’t process that fact and I truly believe they can’t move on until they heal that scar.

Basically, S2 EP7 Fiveya’s scene = We have to talk, but this is not the moment because the show is only on its second season! THIS TENSION IS HERE FOR A REASON.

4. Hope is the last thing to die

I shouldn’t trust a show, I’ve been disappointed so many times in the past years and showrunners of popular shows tend to be unoriginal and cowards. However, I am an optimist at heart and until season 3 I dare to hope anyway. If proven wrong, there are always fanfictions who can do better job than canon.

If all was lost they could have eliminated Alluther too from the universe because of certain fans screaming “harcest is incest you weirdos”, but Allison and Luther’s situation still exist and still work on the parameter “will they or not”? I imagine for their shippers it was annoying to have such a regression in season 2, but they didn’t destroy it and they still gave them scenes.

Fiveya had even a more subtle situation than Alluther but they’ve been granted the same level of intimate interaction whenever they have an alone scene together. Until Five (the character) will gain an older body (which he can) the whole thing is suspended. However, I think they wouldn’t have been open about the possibility of Five changing back to an older body and spoke about in season 1 if they didn’t have an idea for that.

I brushed off the line Five said to Old Man Five about being forever trapped in his 13-years-old body. It’s canon that there is a way to gain an adult body for Five, the Commission has the technology and even if it’s not the Commission they can mambo-jambo the thing in a way or another. That would never work. The actor is a growing up teenager and from season 1 to season 2 he has already changed. I imagined he will change even more before season 3 will ever start recording (maybe very late due the COVID-19 situation).

Aidan is a fan favourite and I am one of those who can’t see anyone else playing Five, with this said there are still ways for the show to give us fiveya. Young fiveya flashbacks will be always an option to explore the idea of “they had a crush on each other when they were young” and make other viewers understand that it wasn’t all “sibling” love between them. Endgame in a distant season can always have an epilogue with an adult Five (another actor I mean) having a very non-platonic (let adult Fivey kiss please) moment with Vanya, meanwhile building up the longest slow-burn (kinda, deep down I believe those feelings for each other are there) of the century.

Maybe I am wrong, maybe my tinfoil crow is too tight, and my brain doesn’t breathe. Maybe the show will succumb to easy paths and angry bullies. I don’t know, but until proven wrong I dare to hope.

PS: This is a monster of a meta and it probably doesn’t make sense? I hope someone will get what I’ve tried to say. I hope you survive, brave readers. Here a glass of margarita for you. I’d love to hear what you think

#fiveya #five x vanya #vanya x five #my meta

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squeeneyart · 4 years

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter Fourteen

AO3

Beta read as always is @thesnadger

Martin returns a lost item.

It's cleaning day.

She was still in bed.

Martin breathed out his nose. This was normal, what with the early hours he kept. Still, as he shut the door, the smallest amount of tension left his shoulders. His mother would wake up in a few hours and go about her day as usual with what energy she had. Things were normal.

He pressed his forehead to the wood.

She hadn’t been holding her skin.

Stowed it away, perhaps, to keep it close and secure instead of sitting in the corner of a stuffy attic. Tucked out of sight, as if it had never been there. If this was what she wanted, fine. He would leave it. He stepped away and continued with his morning, leaving the silence undisturbed.

His routine dragged on, and yet before he knew it he’d sped through the whole thing. Teeth, shower, some small nothing of a breakfast that he barely managed to get down. Pill box set on the counter, the previous day’s dose empty. Some dishes left in the sink that he hadn’t gotten to the night before quickly rinsed and set aside. Then, before he felt any time truly pass, he was slipping on his shoes.

His bag felt heavy as he lifted it from the table, though the sketchbook inside was no physical burden. This would be over soon, he told himself. It made no difference to his nervous insides.

He should’ve gotten more sleep.

It had been a mistake to stumble out of the house the night before. He could’ve complied with his mother’s demand for solitude by simply leaving the room and going upstairs to his own bed. Instead, he’d had to be walked home late at night like a drunk after last call. And above all, he was up earlier than usual, the final nail in his sleepless coffin.

Martin rubbed away some of the exhaustion from his eyes and hefted the bag more securely onto his shoulder. Upon exiting his home he was met with a dreary, drizzling morning that sprayed his glasses with tiny droplets. Before long he would have to wipe them, but he kept his umbrella stored away.

“No reason to look up,” he muttered to himself, turning his back on the sea. It churned and scattered itself over the rocks. “Nothing but water in your eyes.”

It was easy enough to focus on the path as it sloped upward, and when he reached town he turned to walk on a street perpendicular to his normal route, that towering thing clawing at this periphery. He had another destination to avoid eye contact with first.

On the way he passed the storage house, doing his best to look like an uninterested pedestrian. It was hard not to stare. So quiet in the early morning, the building could’ve been unused for years if Martin hadn’t known better.

He shook his head. There was no more business to be had there, at least for the moment. If none of them had been tracked down by the police (or worse), it wasn’t worth worrying about. No, the only person who knew about their little investigation was ahead of him, and like a fool Martin had to trust that he would keep this whole thing quiet.

The house was probably the same as it had been. Martin couldn’t tell, as he kept his eyes away from its large frame and numerous windows. The front gate was open and inviting, the mouth of a whale waiting for the tiniest specks of sea life to float inside.

A woman in a neat suit stood at the front door, apparently waiting for him. “Martin. Simon told me to expect you. No problems, I assume?”

“No.” Martin sifted through his bag and handed her the sketchbook.

“Wonderful. I’ll deliver this to him for you.” She lightly brushed at the cover, lips parting in a smile. “Also, Simon wished for me to tell you that the view from up high later today won’t be one to miss.”

Her face said to be excited, as if she were telling him discreetly of a meteor shower or a fireworks display. A fun, secret end to his family vacation that wasn’t mentioned in the brochure. She tucked the sketchbook under her arm, never letting the friendly grin drop.

“Have a nice day,” she said, through her sparkling teeth. The door was promptly shut in his face.

Backing away, Martin almost looked up at the windows overlooking the front of the house, then snapped his head back down. There was nothing for him up there but dark glass and rainwater.

“That’s…hm.” Jon grimaced in his chair. “It’s certainly ominous.”

Martin sat at his small desk making a modest attempt at getting his work done. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be looking out the windows later.”

Jon nodded. “Yes, that would be for the best. I am concerned, though. The possibility of that book being something more significant hadn’t crossed my mind with everything else going on. If I’d had more time to think, I would’ve asked to take a look at it.”

Across from Jon, Tim was flipping through Martin’s work contract with some intensity. Without looking up, he said, “Well, there’s no helping it now. It probably would’ve just given you a headache, or worse. Martin, is there a list of- oh, wait, I found them.”

Sasha leaned over to look at the pages in Tim’s hand, chewing on the inside of her cheek. When Martin had come in for the day, the three had already settled into their workplaces with a strange energy about them. Sasha in particular had been on edge, seemingly unable to sit for too long.

When he’d asked about this, her only response had been, “Elias hasn’t contacted us yet.”

Jon had argued that it was early, that he had sent out an email the night before and Elias might not have seen it, but there were lines of worry etched in his forehead and at the corners of his eyes.

Or perhaps he was also in need of a better night’s sleep. If Martin had to guess, none of them were running at full capacity. If combing through his incredibly boring work contract helped Tim and Sasha them feel productive, so be it.

“Well, whatever the book was,” Jon continued, “when you go upstairs later, make sure to take Sasha or myself with you. We’ve been largely unaffected by this place, so if anyone is to follow up on Fairchild’s… tip, it should be one of us.”

“He’s the type to rile people up for fun. Maybe it’s nothing.” Martin couldn’t even convince himself.

“Not worth the risk, what with the symptoms you and Tim have exhibited.” Jon glanced at the other two, who did not look away from their reading. He cleared his throat. “Better to be safe in this circumstance, I think.”

The group fell back into silent work, Martin at his desk, Jon on his laptop, and the other two scanning line after line of employment agreements and mind-numbing blocks of text Martin probably hadn’t read before signing. When he’d gone over it days before, there had been no secret clauses or double meanings. Maybe they would have more luck.

Tim eventually spoke up. “Huh. Martin, have you done any of the cleaning bit since we’ve arrived?”

Martin raised his eyebrows. “What? Sorry, did I leave a mess in the sink or-”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Tim tapped the back of his hand onto the page in front of him. “Says here you’re basically the janitorial staff. Something about having to go through the place and clean everything.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, it’s part of my job since no one else works here.” Heat crept up his neck. He’d completely forgotten in the week’s excitement. He muttered to himself, “Shit. I’d better get that done today. If Peter comes in tomorrow and sees it’s a mess-”

“Don’t worry, we won’t interrupt. Just tell us if we need to move anything.”

Martin nodded and pushed himself out of his chair. “Thanks for reminding me. It’s not a priority most of the time since it’s just me, but at the very least he’ll notice if the floors are bad.” And with all the weather and the people, they absolutely were. Goodness.

Tim clicked his tongue. “Can’t have him thinking of us as an intrusion, not if we want to keep the work going.”

“God, I hadn’t even thought about that.” Martin walked over to the closet and began to pull out cleaning supplies. It would have to be the kitchen first, then the floors…

Before long, he’d settled into his cleaning routine. All of the dishes were properly washed instead of just rinsed out, not that the tea stains would be coming off anytime soon. He did his best to mop the main area without disturbing the researchers. Besides some lifting of feet, there were no interruptions on his part.

He would have to go over some spots later, but there was no helping it with all these people about. With so many shoes on the tile and all the rotten weather, the place had gotten dirty and slick. He really would need to get a better mat for the front door if people were to come in more often, especially once it started snowing.

Pushing that thought gently aside, Martin walked toward the stairs with his mop and bucket full of sudsy water.

“Wait, you really have to lug that all the way up?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah…” Martin sighed and started climbing. “There’s nowhere to fill a bucket up there, but people go up just enough that it gets dirty.”

From behind him, there was the sliding of chairs on tile. He looked back. Sasha led the other two toward him and said, “With what Fairchild said, it’s best not to risk anyone going up there alone. Besides, I want another look at the windows before it goes weird.”

“Okay… Just don’t look too far down when you do.” He glanced behind her. “Tim, are you sure you don’t want to-”

“Oh, I’ll be staying nice and safe in the center of the room where I can keep an eye on everyone.” Tim smiled with at least some humor. “Besides, you were right. The contract was a terrible read.”

Martin shrugged and continued his ascent with everyone trailing behind. He wouldn’t bother with the stairs until he was on his way down, in part due to safety but also because it was the biggest pain to keep the bucket balanced.

Halfway up the stairs the shoulder pain kicked in as it usually did, near his neck and right between the shoulder blades. He knew it must’ve been from holding things wrong in some way. Maybe the shifting weight of the water messed with his muscles, but no matter how he held himself he had always managed to get at least a crick in his neck.

“Martin?” Jon said, sounding distant at the back of the line. “Is everything okay?”

Martin hummed in response, stretching his neck. He didn’t work with proper posture, so that was almost definitely a factor. Setting a timer could be helpful. How often were people supposed to stand and move when sitting for a long time? Every thirty minutes? That seemed a bit too often, but he was no expert in muscles or spines.

He wasn’t an expert in anything, really, but in this case he could at least google it. How often had he told himself he would google ‘when should you get up sedentary job?’ without doing so? Was thirty years when things started going wrong with your back? Martin was a tall man, and his back had never been great, not with his lifestyle or all the lifting he sometimes had to do at home, but he knew being tall could really mess up the spine. Herniated discs were apparently-

“Martin!” Sasha’s voice snapped, echoing up into the stairwell.

The sound of steps behind him had stopped. Martin paused and looked over his shoulder to find Sasha’s hand on it, giving it a shockingly forceful shake. The three of them seemed to sag in relief. Tim was gripping the handrail and leaned his head against the wall, while Jon just looked at him with his hands raised as if to prod Martin’s arm.

With a nervous laugh, Martin flicked his eyes between them. “W-what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen-”

“Martin, what just happened?” Sasha asked. Her fingers continued to dig into his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“We… walked up the stairs? I carried a bucket?” He lifted the bucket up as evidence, then stared at it. “Sorry, did some of the water splash out and make the stairs slippery? I tend to overfill it, but-”

Jon cut him off. “Let’s just- we’ll talk when we get upstairs.” He glanced behind himself with some alarm and hurried to the front of the group.

Martin was about to argue, to say that no, if something happened he deserved to know- but one look at their faces was enough to shut him up as they resumed the trek upward. He gripped tight the bucket and mop.

It became clear on the quiet walk that the others were waiting for something. Sasha kept lightly squeezing Martin’s shoulder as if to push him forward. Only once did they stop for Tim to get his bearings, after several instances of Tim waving off his own stumbles as nothing.

From the front Jon regularly looked over his shoulder, usually at Martin but occasionally past him down the winding steps. Martin attempted to catch his eye more than once to raise an eyebrow at him, but the man was distracted by whatever it was that had everyone all in a tizzy.

Besides those tiny moments of confusion, it was easy enough to settle into the now familiar headspace of focusing on Jon’s back and not thinking too hard about it all.

Finally, thankfully, they reached the upper floor. Bright morning light filtered through the panes of glass, a startlingly intense change from the stairwell. Despite this, Martin shivered. If he dared go near the windows, he thought, would they be at all warm?

Sasha’s hand guided him to a small, faded couch in the corner. He set the cleaning supplies onto the floor, sat with his hands together in his lap, and waited.

Sasha began, “So, I’m sure that was… strange for you.”

“I mean, yeah?” Martin replied. He started rubbing a thumb into the back of his hand. “Clearly something happened that I don’t know about.”

Sasha looked around at the other two before fishing her phone out of her pocket. “Well. Before we get into that, there’s something you should hear. Late last night, I received an interesting voicemail.”

Martin’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, she actually-”

“She didn’t actually claim to be anyone. Understandably suspicious.” Sasha looked at her phone and pulled something up on it. “Nevertheless, she had some… advice.”

She tapped the phone, then held it out.

A tired, irritated voice came through, muffled with static. “I’m not interested in talking, not if you’re involved with those people, that family. They’ve harassed me, stalked me, who knows what else.”

There was a quick sigh. “But you found my number and just... called me. No one would blow all that work on such a weak lie unless they were being sincere. I guess. Or it’s just easier to hope that someone else sees that something is wrong.”

“So, before I realize this is a bad idea, tell this to whoever they got to replace him: Don’t assume incompetence. They know how to get away with things. It’s all making you ignore what’s right in front of you because, no, of course it must be a mistake or a typo. It’s about getting away with a lie without actually lying.” Another sigh.

“That’s where he went, or where they took him, I know it. When he came out from- from wherever the first time, he found me losing it on the stairs after he-.” The person laughed, just barely. “Almost dropped the stupid water bucket when he saw me there. He was always- no. No. If you’re really trying to figure things out, then best of luck to you. You’re probably fucked, but either way, don’t… don’t go in alone. You’ll just get lost. Don’t bother calling this number again.” Click.

For a moment Martin stared at the phone. Her voice had been cracking near the end, and he pushed down the bile that rose in his throat. “This is, um… So, she saw something, and that something was…”

Tim nodded, fishing a folded page of the contract out of his pocket and giving it over to Martin. “She was right. It’s the smallest detail. No one would think it’s anything other than a mistake.”

Slowly, Martin unfolded the page listing his general duties. It took him a moment, but after scanning a few lines he found it. His stomach twisted. “‘Upper floors’. There’s only the main floor and the top floor, nothing else.”

“Apparently not,” Jon said, sitting on the arm of the couch. “Because about halfway up the stairs you disappeared straight into a wall.”

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au #jonmartin

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hopeandfire-a · 4 years

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I CALL THIS: the discord asked for fluffy domestic and i didn’t have the scene they asked for finished, but i do have this one done and i am nothing if not a people pleaser so please enjoy. kinda spoilers for my current wip (the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?) if that’s a concern!!

“Tenten…”

“Hm?” Her fingers stop, head tilting up to look at him curiously. Moonlight falls through the nearby window - a sliver across the length of his bed, illuminating the otherwise dim room with a gentle glow. Like something out of a romance novel, soothing and intimate, safe and warm. His hand turns beneath hers, fingers curling gently around her palm.

“Kiss me again.”

Heat. It creeps up her chest and into her cheeks, across her skin to the tips of her ears. The same kind of heat that she’d felt holding him in the forest, accompanied by the same fluttering feeling in her stomach, only this time she can’t attribute it to grief. There’s no immediate danger. No threat of losing him hanging over her head, no gaping holes or pools of blood. Nothing to interrupt the moment. “You remember?”

He’s flushed as well. She can see it in the moonlight - a faint dusting of pink across cheeks like porcelain. Tenten might’ve chalked it up to another symptom of recovery, if not for the fact that he can’t seem to look at her properly. Brilliant in battle, but just as inept in romance as she is. It’s… endearing in a way she can’t explain and she feels her heart swell the longer she lingers on it.

“Kiss me again…?” It’s a question this time and his voice is softer, brow furrowed as he stares not down at her but at their joined hands. His grip tightens after a moment, thumb brushing gently over her skin. “Please.”

Every moment with him is a gift. Please don’t let any of them go to waste. Especially not due to fear.

She eases up out of the chair, hyper aware of every little movement. Of her hands shaking and her elbow popping, her hair brushing against her cheek and the crease in her nose as she tries to work out what she’s supposed to do with her face. It had been different before - an expression of joy after finding him warm and breathing, a surge of emotion that could only escape in the spark that rushed through her body when her lips pressed against his.

But now he’s watching, sitting in anticipation with his hand wrapped tightly around hers and for some reason that makes it more difficult.

The distance between them is closed inches at a time, halted when she’s only one or two away and his other hand reaches up to dance across her cheek. They fan over her skin, softer than she’d ever imagined, and in an instant it registers that he’s finally looking at her. Lavender on honey and she’s never seen his expression so… vulnerable. Delicate and desperate and aching.

“Ten-”

Don’t let any of them go to waste. And she doesn’t, tilting her head until her lips ghost over his. Fingers curl against her cheek, something of a flinching gesture as if the inevitable has taken him by surprise. Those beautiful eyes slip closed, a breath of escaped air rolling along her skin. It’s warmer than she’d expected. Wetter than expected. A certain kind of uncomfortable that isn’t uncomfortable at all.

When she pulls away, the hand against her cheek keeps her close. Forehead against forehead, his finger tracing the line of her jaw. He doesn’t open his eyes, humming into the silence, and the desperate expression has been replaced with one of utter peace as if her lips had done more to heal him than the hours spent being sewn back together piece by piece.

The thought causes her heart to twist in her chest.

“Again,” he starts, but he doesn’t have to- she’s already lurching forward, searching for the safety of warm lips and the sound of him breathing and the feeling of his heart pounding so hard in his chest she can feel it through their clothes. The hand that had been lingering at her cheek slips into her hairline, curling in warm brown locks to hold her firmly in place and his head tilts just enough to deepen the kiss.

This time she loses track of time. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats. Her chest is flush with his, an arm around her waist holding her firmly in place, and distantly she worries that she might split open the injuries somehow. That he might fall to pieces beneath her - shattering into dust and carried off by the wind. It’s the inevitability she’s fighting so hard to avoid, isn’t it?

His name leaves her lips half finished in a breath of air that’s cut off by a third kiss, this one bestowed upon her by him and backed by a burning hunger. A need to be close to someone. To belong to someone. To be important to someone. To be all of those things to her - and he already is. In ways she can’t explain, because she’s too young to have the words. A single person who is the centerpoint of her entire universe, a bright and burning star, holding her like she is the same to him.

Two years of unspoken affection have led to this point.

She wonders if her future self ever got to experience it.

The familiar sound of a throat being cleared breaks into a world that belongs to only them, pulling Tenten back to reality with a resounding crash. She leans back and the painful way his fingers catch in her hair is bittersweet. It takes him longer to join her, but the moment the realization they’d been caught dawns on him he releases her and she slips back into her chair, gaze drifting to the doorway to find her father with an expression on his face that had always been reserved for her mother.

Rough. Tight. And full of burning disapproval.

“It’s time for you to come home, Tenten.”

#nejiten #wip sample #idk what to tag this ask

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rednovagalaxy · 3 years

Text

I’ve been thinking about it a lot for the past week but I might have undiagnosed ADHD. I’ve been looking into it through Tumblr and from what people tell about their experiences, it’s very similar to mine in a lot of ways. Outside of COVID, there were incidents where I couldn’t finish a task on time (which results in getting help), or losing track of time when I’m hyperfixated on something. I’ve admitted that I joke about ADHD but it wasn’t serious. Basically my dad and I had a conversation about keeping up with school work, and he’s worried about my safety because failing these classes will cause colleges to reject your applications. I was trying to reflect on how I can do better but I stumbled on this post about ADHD and reading the symptoms was like “Wait a minute, do I have ADHD?!” and then I remembered that I’ve reblogged some posts about ADHD in the past because I thought it was informative but now it’s like “hmm maybe there’s more to it than I thought??”.

So comes today.

In doing so, finding more information on ADHD basically explains everything about my behavior for the past few years. I fucking wished this shit was a result of quarantine from the pandemic, but I’d be lying. I can remember incidents as far back as sophomore year where I was obsessing over a TV show rather than doing work in the spring semester. I can’t recall any earlier than that because when your a kid that needs help, it doesn’t feel abnormal to most people. I really couldn’t tell until the pandemic hit when the symptoms started to manifest in serious ways. It also explains why being 18 year old senior in high school still can’t do deadlines on time yet my brother can by the time his junior year and is successful in college.

I’m both in denial and relief. On one hand, I finally get an answer as to why I can’t focus even when I’m doing my favorite things. On the other hand, this means that I’m terrified even more because I’m minoritized even further. Part of me wishes that I was a straight neurotypical guy so that it’s normal to society, but it’s terrifying when YOU ARE THE MINORITY. It doesn’t help that I’m autistic as hell. I mean Autism and ADHD go like bread and butter to the point where arguably they’re cousins to each other, which is why there’s so many autistic people having ADHD alongside it.

From what I gathered, I definitely have all the signs for ADHD-PI (formerly known as ADD), since I don’t have the emotional dysregulation, or hyperactive impulsive behavior often associated with ADHD. I might look into a psychiatrist for a diagnosis since I’m legally old enough to schedule appointments myself without my parent’s consent. I want people reblogging for advice about ADHD so I can properly seek a doctor and get medication until I’m out of the house in a about six months. Anyways sorry for the long ramble.

#neurodivergent #actually neurodivergent #autism #actually autistic #adhd #actually adhd #diagnosis

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littlelovelyspiderling · 4 years

Text

Dialed to Eleven

I have a problem

The spider bite that gave Peter his powers had an unexpected (not to mention, embarrassing) side-effect that he wants gone. The kid turns to Tony Stark for help.

word count: 4,857

__________________________________________

“Hey, uh, Mr. Stark?”

Tony looked up from his workspace in surprise, flipping the welding mask off his eyes and on to his forehead. Peter Parker was standing in the doorway of his lab, his arms crossed with his hands clamped around each elbow, looking small and nervous. Stark hadn’t been expecting the kid to stop by the tower today. Normally, he called beforehand, or texted, or sent a string of those weird little internet pictures that made no sense but never ceased to make Peter burst out laughing.

“Hey?” Tony replied. It came out less like a greeting and more like a question. “I mean, uh, hey.”

“Hi.”

They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds before Stark scoffed and stood. “Um…what’re you doing here? How did you even get in?”

Peter glanced over his shoulder then back at the billionaire. “The, uh…the window.”

“Right,” he snorted. He had forgotten that he’d told FRIDAY to disable the tower’s defense protocols whenever she detected Spider-Man entering. He placed his blowtorch on the counter. “Well, what’s up? Do you need something?”

The kid shook his head. “No,” he said, but he looked as if he was trying to convince himself he didn’t, and was doing a very bad job at it. Then he squeezed his eyes shut. “I mean, well, sorta. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Tony motioned him forward. Hesitantly, Peter stepped into the lab.

“What’s wrong?” Stark asked, slipping the welding goggles off his forehead. Peter stopped in front of him and bit his lip. The kid had a bad habit of tip-toeing around his words whenever he was trying to open up to others, especially when he was asking for help. It cut Tony a little that Peter still thought himself unworthy of directly requesting his mentor’s aid.

“Nothing’s really wrong, per se,” he finally mumbled out, twiddling his thumbs in front of his chest. “It’s just…it’s sorta…well, I’m not really sure how to explain it.”

Stark wrinkled his nose. “Is this some kind of puberty thing? Where you’re, yah know, starting to feel some new things? Desires, urges, unfamiliar yearnings—”

“No!” Peter interrupted sharply, flushing red. “No, no, no. Not that.”

“—because if you really need someone to talk to, I mean—”

“I do not,” he insisted, practically gagging. “I’m done with puberty. Please stop.”

Tony chuckled. “All right. If you say so. What is it, then?”

Peter blinked and cleared his throat and shifted his weight between his feet. “Okay,” he said quietly, huffing out a quick breath. “Okay, so…you know how I got bit by a spider?”

“Yeah,” Tony said.

“And—and you know how it gave me powers?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Right,” Peter said. “And remember how I told you how it also kind of dialed all my senses to eleven? Like, uh, made me a lot more sensitive to loud sounds and strong smells and other stuff?”

Stark nodded. “Vaguely, yes.”

“Well, I’ve sort of learned how to handle most of it. So that, you know, it doesn’t really bother me and I can use my heightened senses to my advantage.” Peter slowed his rant for an instant and scratched at his forearms, trying to gather his thoughts. “But, um…there’s been this one sort of side-effect thing from the bite that’s just been bad. Like, not helpful and at all. And I want to try to make it go away, but I’m not sure how.”

“What kind of side-effect?” Tony asked.

Peter hung his head and sighed. “It’s…well…” He glanced around the room, making absolutely sure it was just the two of them. “It’s kind of…embarrassing.”

Stark raised an eyebrow. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled. He crossed his arms and chewed the inside of his cheek. Tony had seen the kid nervous and flustered before, but not like this. It was a very endearing look on the teenage superhero. Whatever it was that was bothering him was obviously hard for him to talk about, so Tony punched him playfully in the shoulder and offered him a reassuring smile.

“Well, I can’t really help you unless you tell me what’s going on, kiddo.”

“I know,” Peter groaned.

“So why don’t you try explain whatever it is you’re dealing with, and I’ll promise not to tell anyone about it. Deal?”

Peter searched his mentor’s expression for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels, then let his shoulders sink.

“Okay,” he said miserably. “Just promise you won’t make fun of me.”

Stark grinned and wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders. “I promise to do my very best. How about that?” He led the kid to a stool by his work bench and gestured for him to sit. “But I feel like whatever this is, you’re being a bit dramatic. I mean, it can’t be that debilitating, can it?”

Peter sat and shook his head. “It’s not necessarily…debilitating,” he said. “It’s just…okay, here it goes.” He adjusted his positioning on the stool so that his feet were dangling above the floor. “So…um…y-you know how people are ticklish?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. What kind of question was that? “Uh, yeah,” he answered.

“Okay, well, see, ever since I gained my powers, I’ve gotten…more ticklish.” The longer he spoke, the pinker his face became. “It’s like…I think since all of my other senses were heightened, my sense of touch was heightened, too.”

“Okay,” Stark said, trying to track with him, attempting not to smile. “Well, is that the only thing that’s gotten worse? Do you also feel, I don’t know, pain more acutely?”

Peter tilted his head to the side. “No, not really. I feel pain differently, I guess, but I definitely have a higher tolerance for it now than I did before the bite. There’s a lot of things I feel differently now, but this…” He swallowed. “This is the only thing that’s just worse.”

At this point, the smile had bled through Tony’s defenses, and he was biting back a snort. “I mean, is it really that bad? I’m not sure there’s a cure for being ticklish, kid. It’s just how some people are.”

Peter bunched his shirt sleeves in his palms anxiously. “I know, but…there’s being normally ticklish, and then there’s this.” He crossed his legs on top of the stool. “Most people are ticklish in just some places. You know, like, your feet, your belly, whatever. That’s how I used to be.” Peter combed a hand through his hair. “But now, it’s like…everywhere.”

Stark blinked. “Everywhere?”

He nodded shyly. “Yeah. And in the normal places, it’s like a hundred times worse. And I don’t know how to fix it.” The kid stared up at him with his big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. “Can you help?”

Tony wasn’t sure if he should burst out laughing or feel bad for Peter. He kind of felt like doing both. It was such a cute and silly problem—certainly not the kind most superheroes had to deal with after developing powers. But the kid was clearly bent out of shape over it.

“I mean…I can try,” he said unconvincingly. “We can run some tests, I guess. Hop up on the table.”

Peter did as he was told, looking nervous. “What kind of tests?”

Stark opened a cabinet under the counter and pulled out a bag of old paintbrushes, selecting the tiniest one from the batch. “This should work,” he said cheerfully. He swiveled back toward the kid. “Let’s test and write down how sensitive each area of your body is. A sort of ‘on a scale of 1-10’ kind of thing. Maybe that will give us some clues as to why your sense of touch is so whacked out right now.”

Peter glanced between the brush and Stark’s face and audibly swallowed. “I mean, if you think it’ll help…”

“We’ll start simple,” he continued. “Let me see your hand.”

The kid hesitated, then slowly extended his arm. Tony held Peter’s hand in his and flipped his palm upright.

“Since there are two types of tickling sensations—knismesis and gargalesis —we’ll have to test both.”

“Knees-ma-what and gargly-who now?” Peter said.

“Fancy words for, say, soft and feathery touches versus aggressive squeezy-type touches.”

Peter shuddered. “Oh god. I can already tell I’m going to hate this.”

Tony chuckled, then laid the paintbrush against the kid’s hand. “Now then, how would you rate this?” he asked. He brushed the bristles lightly along his palm, and Peter immediately flinched away.

“H-hehey!” he squealed, hugging his fist to his chest. “Not great!”

“Seriously?” Stark scoffed.

Peter withered. “I told you it was bad.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed this before now,” he chuckled. “How would you rate that spot?”

The kid looked down at his hand. “A four, I guess? Maybe?”

Tony raised a holographic silhouette of a body off the table in front of him and wrote a four and a ‘K’ in the air beside the palm with his finger. “Okay,” he said, tapping Peter’s knuckle. “Now the gargalesis.”

Peter wrinkled his nose and gave his hand back to Stark. Stark started squeezing his fingers and palm experimentally. This time, Peter didn’t pull back.

“I’m guessing this doesn’t bother you?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. I think it’s just the soft kind that’s worse there.”

“That makes sense,” Stark said. Without warning, he pinned Peter’s wrist to the table and starting sweeping the brush up his forearm.

“Whahat?” Peter yelped. Sharp, adorable giggles immediately started jumping from his lips. “Wahahait! Mr. Stahark! Ahaha!” He thrashed and kicked until he was free, rolling to the other end of the table and shrinking his elbows to his sides. “W-what the hell was that for?”

“I think you need to be restrained so I can get the data I need to help you,” Stark explained. “If you squirm away from me the whole time, I don’t think we’re going to get accurate enough results.”

“Are you serious?” Peter said, blush burning at the tips of his ears.

Tony actually felt bad for the kid this time. A sympathetic, but also endeared kind of bad. Unfortunately, he wasn’t kidding. “I’m afraid so, bud. If you want me to help you, I need to properly diagnose the extent and severity of your symptoms.”

Peter palmed his face with both hands. “Oh god,” he groaned, smiling anxiously through his fingers. “I mean, okay. Fine, I guess. If you really think it’ll help.”

“We could just forget about it, kid. Even if I can figure out the cause—”

“No,” he sighed. “I really want to know what’s going on.” He crawled to the middle of the table and flopped on his back with his arms above his head, puffing out his cheeks. Tony read this as a cue to go ahead and restrain him. He gave the word to FRIDAY, and metal clasps bubbled up from the table and latched around the kid’s wrists and ankles, making him jump in surprise.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, immediately trying to wriggle free. The bonds held him firmly in place, keeping his arms and legs pinned against the cold surface. “I didn’t mean right now! Since when were those installed?”

“What better time than the present?” Stark said with a shrug, walking up to his side. “Unless you’re still not sure about this.”

“I’m not,” he laughed nervously, stretching and shifting as much as the restraints allowed. “Definitely not, heh. But, I mean, go ahead, I guess.”

Stark couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s squirmy timidness. He wasn’t even touching him yet. “All right,” he said, lifting up the brush. “I’ll try to go quick.”

The moment the bristles made contact with Peter’s wrist, he started twitching and giggling in the cutest way possible. It grew very clear very quick that Spider-Man hadn’t been joking: he was definitely more ticklish than the average person. A lot more. Tony was basically just holding the brush against his arm, and already the kid was turning red with laughter.

“Wow,” Stark said, grinning. “That bad, huh?”

“I’m sohohorry,” Peter giggled helplessly. “Ihi’m soho anxious!”

“So is it just the anxiety making you laugh, or does it really tickle that much? How would you rate this?”

“Seheven!” he stammered out, dropping his head against the table. Tony scoffed.

“Seven? I’m not even moving the brush!” Smiling wide, Stark started dragging the bristles down the length of his arm. The lower he got, the higher and wilder Peter’s laughter became. Tony found himself laughing along with him and fought to stay composed.

“Ohoho my gohahad,” Peter whined, balling his hands into fists.

“I thought maybe you were exaggerating a bit. But man, this is…” His voice trailed off as he watched the teen giggle. His face hurt from grinning so much. “You have to admit, this is a pretty freaking adorable problem to have, kid. I’m almost tempted not to help you. Are you sure you want to get rid of it?”

“Yehehes!” Peter laughed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Plehease hurry uhuhup!”

Stark had a feeling he was going to regret requesting that. His suspicions were confirmed when he moved the brush below Peter’s elbow, and the kid leapt and squealed.

“Ahahahack!” he cried. “Mihister Stahahark! Thihis ihihis torhorture!”

“Rating?” Tony inquired.

“Tehehen!”

Stark rolled his eyes. “I don’t think your measuring system is very reliable. FRIDAY, scan him while I’m doing this and rate each area’s ticklishness based on his reactions.”

“On it,” FRIDAY’s chipper voice replied from overhead. “I’ll have a full map generated once you’ve finished testing his whole body.”

“Perfect,” Stark said. He switched to squeezing Peter’s arm, which only elicited a reaction when he got close to his armpit.

“I cahahan’t do thihis,” Peter whimpered.

“Sure you can,” Tony insisted. He plucked the paintbrush off the table and held it toward the kid’s underarm. Before he even touched him, Peter flinched away with a squeak.

“Noho! Never mind! Ihihi give up!”

“You give up?” Stark repeated mockingly. “We’ve barely even started.”

“It’s nohot worth it.”

A mischievous grin crawled across Tony’s face. “You should’ve thought of that before letting me pin you to the table.”

The kid blinked at him, jaw dropping open. “W-what?”

“I believe this has to be done whether you like it or not,” he clarified matter-of-factly. “We need to get to the bottom of this for your own wellbeing. And at this point, it’s not like you can stop me.”

With an evil gleam in his eye, Tony moved the brush closer to the kid’s armpit. Peter wrenched and squirmed, but to his horror, he realized Stark was right. He was trapped.

“Wahahait!” Peter cried. “Noho! Mr. Stahark! Plehease don’t!”

Tony ignored him and slipped the brush inside his shirt sleeve, stroking the bristles against the unbearably sensitive skin under his arm. Peter gasped, then sputtered, then exploded into a whole new magnitude of laughter.

“AHAhahaha! Nohoho!” He twisted and floundered, but it was all in vain. There was no escaping the soft, feathery brushstrokes, which were painting circles and swirls and figure eights in the most ticklish spot of his vulnerable pit.

Peter’s entire face flushed crimson. “Stohohahap! Stahahap! Mihister Starharhahahaaa!”

“Now this is where things start get interesting,” Tony said, smiling down at the blushing, laugh-wracked kid. He had meant to go easy on him at first, to only tickle him enough to get the data they needed, but now he was having too much fun. He set the brush down and switched to digging his thumbs into both of Peter’s armpits, kneading deep into the hollows with merciless intensity. This time, Peter shrieked.

“AHAHAHAHAAA!” Spider-Man arched his spine and shook his head from side to side, hiccups jumping from his throat. “N-NOHO! NOHOHAHAHAGH!”

“I’d say that’s a pretty sensitive spot,” Stark noted gleefully. “What do you think, kiddo?”

“HEHEHELP!” Peter pleaded between bouts of hysterical giggles. Tony tickled the entirety of each underarm before finally lifting his hands off the kid. He looked like he might explode if he didn’t give him a rest.

“Gaha…” Peter wheezed, eyes wide, gulping down air like a fish. “Oho man…”

“Ready for the next round?” Tony asked far too soon, twirling the paintbrush just above his tummy. Peter went rigid.

“Noho! Please!”

“Better move this out of the way,” Stark said, lifting the kid’s shirt to expose his bare belly. “You know, so we can get the most accurate results.”

Peter pulled at his restraints with all his might. “Mihister Stark! I’m behegging you! Lehet me goho!”

“But you asked me to help you figure this out,” he said innocently, spinning the paintbrush between his fingers. “I’m only doing what’s best for you. If I don’t help you fix this, and word gets out about your little weakness, then every super villain you encounter is going to hold you down and tickle you until you die—or until you spill the beans on all of the Avengers’ secrets.”

Peter opened his mouth to retaliate, but he didn’t know what to say. “But—but—” was all he got out before Tony started fluttering the paintbrush just below his ribcage, and a giant grin cracked across his face. “Mmheehaha! Shihihit!”

“It’s just like painting a beautiful landscape,” Stark said, skimming the bristles slowly and delicately up his side. “You know, Bob Ross style. “Except instead of canvas, I have a super giggly teenager.” He went down his side again. Then up. Then back down. Oscillating the brush in a wave-like motion. Poking the brush tip underneath his back. Then he switched to Peter’s other side, starting the whole masterpiece all over again. Peter was in squirmy pieces.

“I cahahan’t! I cahahahan’t! Plehehehease!”

“All right, I hear you,” Tony concurred. He swept the brush across Peter’s tummy, causing the kid to cringe and squeal. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

“Nohohahaha!” Peter laughed, sucking in his abs and throwing his weight from side to side. His efforts did nothing to deter the brush’s cruel, smooth path; never once did the bristles lift from his unbelievably sensitive skin. They glided and slid and danced and wiggled; they skirted and fluttered and twitched and stroked. The brush scoured across every last inch of his tummy before honing on Peter’s bellybutton, poking and swirling inside and around. The kid screeched.

“Ihihihi’m dyhyhing!”

“I think you might be speaking too soon,” Tony said, placing the paintbrush on the table then wiggling his fingers threateningly. He didn’t attack right away, though—Peter was probably exaggerating about the whole dying thing, but the red color consuming his entire body told a different story. He didn’t want to take any chances. Plus, watching the kid giggle and squirm in anticipation was beyond adorable.

“Y-you’re soho mean,” Peter wheezed, flinching and squealing every time Tony jumped at him. He clawed at the air just above his tummy, driving the kid up the wall. “Stahap! Shihit! You ahasshole!”

“Oh. So you want you me to actually tickle you instead of faking it?” Stark shrugged. “Okay then. I was trying to give you a break, but…”

Tony reached down and wrapped his hands around Peter’s torso. The kid fell to pieces before he even started to tickle him, and Stark suddenly felt like a very peculiar and very cruel Spider-Man villain. He kneaded his fingers into his sides, his hips, his belly. He squeezed all over, quick and repetitive, then ground his knuckles into the entirety of his ribcage, followed by worming every fingertip between each rib. Peter’s wild laughing dissolved back into sporadic hiccups, which racked his whole frame and jumped from his throat.

Tony ceased his attack when the kid stopped making sounds altogether—once he was just lying there, bouncing with silent laughter, smiling the biggest smile in the world. It took him a minute to start laughing again, then another minute to actually form words between each giggle bout.

“Hehelp,” he whimpered.

“Yep,” Stark said. “I think we’ve got a fair reading on your upper body’s sensitivity.”

“Screhew you…” Peter panted breathlessly, tears shining in his eyes. “Ihi’m n-never…never trusting you agahain…”

When Tony didn’t respond, Peter turned to look up at him. He was surprised to see a flash of actual hurt cross his mentor’s expression. Stark’s hands fell to his sides.

“Aw, man. See, I can’t have that.”

Peter blinked repeatedly, wrinkling his brow. “Wait, w-what?”

Tony’s eyes rose to the ceiling, and he snapped his fingers in the air. Instantly, the clasps on Spider-Man’s limbs unlatched and receded back into the table, leaving him stunned and free.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I took it too far. You came to me for help, and I shouldn’t take that lightly.”

Slowly, Peter sat upright, hugging himself around the middle. His tummy and ribcage tingled all over, resulting in a few residual giggles slipping from his lips.

“I don’t ever want you to think you can’t trust me. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” The corners of Stark’s mouth lifted hesitantly. “I just really like seeing you smile and hearing you laugh. We’ve all been in a pretty dark spell since Thanos, so…” With a sigh, he waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway. FRIDAY probably has enough data to figure out what’s up with your biology. I’ll start working through it and I’ll text you if any potential leads come up.”

Peter stared at him, silent, unsure how to respond. On one hand, he absolutely hated how insanely ticklish he was. Everything else the spider bite had given him was helpful, powerful, heroic, but this—this was just embarrassing. It was a weakness, and he wanted all his weaknesses gone.

On the other hand, it wasn’t a total negative. It was a way to make himself and others smiley and giggly even when spirits were low. Sure, it rendered him breathless and flustered. But, as much as he hated to admit it, it also cheered him, brightened his mood, reminded him how to laugh when joy felt impossible.

Being abnormally ticklish wasn’t particularly to his liking. Neither was being restrained and tickled out of his mind. But he wasn’t entirely against affectionate pokes and prods every now and then. Ben used to tease him like that all the time, especially when school had him at his wits end. May did it to punctuate the fact that he was still a kid—her kid. It was a way to make him happy during times when he was determined not to be.

“No, I…I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean it.” Peter would trust Tony with his life. Nothing would ever change that. He rubbed at his aching ribs. “I just said it so you’d stop before I exploded.”

Stark chuckled. “Fair enough. I should’ve stopped before that, though. Your face was almost the color of your suit.”

Heat flushed through Peter as he laughed shyly, cupping his rosy cheeks in his hands. “Ugh. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Well, like I said: your secret’s safe with me. And I won’t abuse my knowledge of it anymore. You’re free to go now.”

Peter glanced up at the ceiling then back at Tony. “Are you sure you have all the data you need?”

He shrugged. “No. But I’ll do my best with what we’ve got.”

The kid crossed his arms against his chest and his legs against the table. “So…if you tested the rest of me, you think you’d have a better chance of figuring out what’s wrong?”

“Uh,” Stark said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe? Probably. I mean, no guarantees, but…”

Peter nodded, then heaved a lofty sigh. “Alright. Go ahead, then.”

Tony’s lip twitched. “Huh?”

“Test the rest of me,” he murmured. “Quickly, though, so I don’t spontaneously combust.”

“Are…you sure?” Stark asked, laying his palms against the table. “You seem to really hate it, and I don’t want to make you hate me for doing it to you.”

Peter leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his legs, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t…necessarily…hate it,” he managed to say. He cleared his throat. “It’s just that it’s a weakness, and I’m a superhero. And superheroes aren’t supposed to have weaknesses.”

As Tony looked upon his blushing mentee, a soft smile broke across his face. “Now that’s where you’re wrong, kiddo. Everyone has weaknesses, regardless of how super they may seem.” He poked him in the belly, making Peter leap and sputter. “Yours just happens to be a very adorable one.”

“Stohop,” Peter giggled, gripping his side.

“Mm, No, I don’t think I will,” Tony said smugly. He stood up straight and wagged his finger. “You see, Pete, you made the mistake of telling me you don’t hate it. Which means I now feel absolutely no remorse for doing this.”

With two simultaneous clicks, the clasps suddenly reemerged from the table, trapping Spider-Man in his current position. Peter yelped in surprise as Stark rounded the table so he was standing behind him.

“H-hey! Wait! Mr. Stark!” He pulled uselessly against the restraints, trying to turn to see over his shoulder, then squeaked when something feathery brushed the back of his neck.

“What? I’m just doing what you said—testing the rest of you.” He fluttered the paintbrush against his neck, occasionally teasing his collarbone and tickling his ears, making Peter giggle and twist and flare with goosebumps.

“Nohoho! Ihi tahake it bahahack!” he squealed.

“Too late,” Tony said, switching to his hands. “Because if you don’t hate it, that means at least part of you enjoys it. Check and mate.” He squeezed at the muscle between Peter’s neck and shoulders, and the poor kid cringed.

“Ahahaha! Ihihihi dohohon’t!”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say,” Stark chuckled. He gave him one last pinch, then stepped away, letting him take a breath. “Lucky for you, there’s really only one more place I think we need to test.”

“Whehere?” Peter gasped, slumping flat and hanging his head. The realization struck him before Tony even started moving to the opposite side of the table. “Wahait! Wait, wait, wahait!”

Stark stopped by his feet and smiled sympathetically. “If you really don’t want me to, I won’t.”

The kid groaned. “Ugh. Shihit. Just get it over with…”

Tony pulled his left shoe and sock off. Peter was red and giggling just from thinking about those feathery bristles touching his soles, which made Stark chuckle.

“Judging from your face and general disposition right now, am I correct in assuming this is your worst spot?”

Peter squirmed. “Ihit’s all soho bad…”

“Maybe it has something to do with your stickiness,” Stark suggested. He stroked the brush from the ball of Peter’s foot to the tips of his toes, and the kid squawked.

“AHAHAHAHAAA! Dahahammit!” He expected him to stop after that, but Tony kept going, fluttering the bristles along the sides and arch of his foot, poking the plastic end between his toes. Peter went from laughing to shrieking to hiccuping in a matter of seconds, wrenching and twisting against his restraints. Stark ceased his attack in less than a minute—he truly believed the kid couldn’t survive a moment longer than that.

“Okay, okay, we’re done,” he laughed, re-releasing Peter from the clasps holding his limbs hostage. “Geez, kid. I don’t know how you’ve managed to hide this for so long.”

“Nohot…eheasily…” he wheezed. He curled into a tiny ball, dizzy and breathless.

“Map generated,” FRIDAY said from above. A diagram of a human body materialized in front of them with labels on different areas, listing their designated ticklishness rating. “I’ll start running diagnostic tests right away.”

“You do that,” Tony said. He turned back to Peter, who was still struggling to catch his breath. “I’ll let you know what she digs up, okay?.”

“Yay…” he whimpered, lying on his side. Stark chuckled softly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

After a moment, Peter sat up, an exhausted but happy smile on his face. “Y-yeah,” he panted, wiping his eyes. “I’m fine, honestly. Just…whew.”

“I wish I didn’t have to resort to that to get you to smile and laugh like you used to,” Tony said, solemn. “You know, before…”

“Yeah,” he giggled shyly. “I guess it isn’t all bad. Even if It is a weakness.”

“Just don’t let your villains find out about it. Like, seriously. They’d break you in minutes. And possibly kill you.”

Peter winced. “Right, heh. Better not tell Sam or Bucky about it, either.”

“Smart thinking,” Stark said.

A week later, neither FRIDAY nor Stark had found any solid leads regarding the cause of the kid’s strange ailment, or how to get rid of it. Tony felt bad for putting him through all of that trouble for nothing, but surprisingly, Peter was okay with it. It was a part of him, just as much as his super-strength and sticky fingers and spider sense were, and he’d decided to accept that. Even if there was a way to get rid of it, he wasn’t so sure he would anymore.

As long as it wasn’t common knowledge, at least. If his secret got out, his opinion on the matter might do a one-eighty. Especially if any of the other Avengers discovered it. Perhaps in the long run it would make all of them, including Peter, a bit happier overall.

But good god—he’d be so freaking screwed.

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