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lostgreekgod · 3 years

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delusion

a/n: hello aaaaa i had @theaudacitytowrite give me a prompt for a loki x reader fic solely because I do not find entertainment elsewhere! anyways

word count: 2776 (shit got longer, but what can I say I'm very feely when it comes to angst)

warnings: angst. angst angst angst. some crying. there was this one mention of blood, tendons & stuff ? but that's about it have fun crying

pairing: loki x f!reader

summary: you and Loki have been together for quite some time now. what happens when his insecure self realizes that you love him? and that he does too?

another a/n: I feel like this could use a part 2 i might come up with it next week because I've got a 7 day break from school yayy lmk if you'd like that nexie

4 years. It had been 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days since y/n had shed a tear. But on this fine autumn morning, as the yellow and brown leaves rustled in the gentle winds, as the smell of coffee, pumpkin, and spice wafted in the air, she let a tear fall- courtesy of her lover. No, scratch that. Her ex-lover.

\\ 3 hours earlier \\

Humming a tuneless song, an exhausted y/n walked back to her room in the Avenger’s tower. A whole day of training wouldn’t be smart when she had a crucial mission to lead just the next day, but she wanted the mission to pan out exactly right. This wasn’t her first mission, but the stats were so much more critical compared to the missions she had been sent on before. A new rival organization was springing up in SHIELD’s radar, and they seemed as high as ever in spirit, regardless of how the Avengers had managed to crush HYDRA not so long ago. Apparently, according to a message they had received a few moments before, the up-and-coming organization had 4 junior agents in captivity, and in exchange for those agents, they wanted intel. Fury’s plan was to provide a hard drive with incorrect information with an embedded virus, and have the agents rescued before the rival agents decrypted the file and realized SHIELD’s play. Two birds with one stone, as he had phrased. y/n was going to go in with Natasha and Loki. Nat, because she was as light as a cat on her feet, and Loki because he had his seidr for illusions, teleportation, et cetera. This wasn’t going to be her first mission with her 4-month boyfriend either, but she was excited to be fighting alongside him, nevertheless. As she washed up in the shower, she heard her room door open and close with a click. Finally. She thought with a smile. She could go to sleep in her beloved’s arms for the few hours she had left for rest and relaxation before they set out. Putting on her nightgown, she left the bath. She saw how Loki was cocooned on her bed, arms reaching out towards her, a little smile on his face. Unlike her, the god didn’t train much- but he still looked tired.

“Hello, my little lioness. Whom did you beat up today? You do realize it is wiser to rest before a mission.” He said in a loud, lazy whisper. All y/n could do was smile sweetly at him and snuggle under the covers. He knew how the lack of training made her insecure about her ability to be stealthy. Instead of letting Loki’s arms wrap around her like most of the other nights, she spooned his chest instead. Loki’s eyes widened at the sudden gesture, his body tensing up at the sudden disposal of love. He had only given love; he had never been on the receiving side of it. Wait, love? He didn’t love y/n. He didn’t. That swell he felt in his chest every time he saw her was simply the result of the great appreciation and respect he had for her. Nothing more. He couldn’t love her. After all, everyone he had ever loved ended up being taken away from him.

Chuckling lightly, he hoped y/n wouldn’t catch onto his nervousness. “What are you doing my dear?”

Inhaling his scent, y/n mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleeping. Go to sleep my love. We have to be up in less than 3 hours.”

My love? Yes, y/n had called him that multiple times, but he had never thought much of it. Why was he suddenly so wary of it? Did y/n truly love him? No, maybe she wasn’t thinking. She was already worn out and sleepy, maybe she blurted it out accidentally. No one could love him. No one.

y/n sensed that he still hadn’t relaxed. Cracking her eyes slightly open, she asked lightly, “Is everything okay, love?” Loki’s brows furrowed at her question. There it was again. Love. Loving him was impossible. To love him would be delusional. A move of delusional stupidity. Blatant ignorance.

Loki shifted away from her and sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his chest when he heard her whine in response. He met her eyes only to be asked another question. “Love, what’s the matter?”

His heart clenched against his chest, suddenly the room was too hot. He had to understand what was going on. He had to figure this out before it was too late.

“Love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n scanned his face, trying to understand the reason for his sudden withdrawal. She simply hummed in response.

Loki raised his eyebrows, indicating her to reiterate her response.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

“You referred to me as ‘love’.” He repeated, his tongue spewing out the last word like it was coated in dirt and grime.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Is something bothering you?” she asked again, placing her hand on his thigh as a gesture of concern.

How was he expected to ask her if she actually, truly loved him, without causing a kerfuffle? Without making it seem awkward, without losing her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What then? Would that make him feel better? Would that make him happy? A chill ran down his spine when he realized his answer. No. he wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be terribly upset. He wanted y/n to love him. Shaking his head, he tried to heed logic over his emotion. He had to stop himself before he caused something he couldn’t fix. Before y/n realized the monster he truly was. He had to protect his beloved y/n, that would be the least he owed to her, after all that he had led her into.

He neutralized his expression, calming his breathing. This was for the best. He was the God of Lies, he did not deserve love after all that he had done.

“As a matter of fact, y/n, something is bothering me.”

y/n nodded, encouraging him to explain his predicament. “You can talk to me, love.”

Loki inhaled quickly, the use of the blasted term knocking him out of character for a second before he was able to regain his composure. He would ask the question directly. Right to the point, like he was doing business. That was the only way he could maintain his pretense without breaking down too soon. y/n might never forgive him after tonight, but to have her angry at him was so much better than losing her, on his account.

“Do you love me?”

y/n gasped lightly at the sudden question, her eyes widening at how Loki asked her about something so deep with no emotion in his voice. She sensed his sudden hostility, this coldness he was presenting her with. Sitting upright, she looked into his eyes. Nothing. She could read nothing from his expression. All she could pick up was this eerie sadness radiating off of him.

She decided to try reasoning with him. This sudden hostility meant something was bothering him at a much more personal level, and such issues mustn’t be dealt with before an important mission. She would know.

“We don’t have to do this today, Loki. We have to be up early tomorrow, and I doubt- “

“Answer the question, y/n.” Loki interrupted, his voice hardened like steel.

“Loki, we really mustn’t-“ she tried again.

“Answer, y/n.” he pressed.

y/n could only look at him and wonder what the cause was for the unexpected change in his demeanor. How was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to give the answer to the one question that could either make or break everything that they had together? How was she supposed to tell him that her love for him was far more than life? That he was her life? It didn’t matter how less time they had spent with each other; she knew him a lot longer before they had decided to begin their courtship, and she had fallen in love with him even before they had gotten romantically involved. She only fell harder for him after she saw how he truly was. How broken and vulnerable, how he yearned for a place in someone’s heart, how he wished someone could love him without any foretold conditions. How he wished to be free. Loki’s eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. y/n’s lack of response answered his question. She did love him. But he had to hear it from her. That was the only way he could finish this for good. For his y/n.

“I’m waiting.” He prompted, slightly flinching at the coldness in his voice.

y/n’s eyes flicked over to his, her skin eliciting goosebumps from the steely nature of his voice. He had never been like this to her. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was under Thanos’ control. Breathing deeply, she reached out and held his hands, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. I do. I love you,” she whispered, blood pounding against her ears. Her heart convulsed in her chest when Loki didn’t reply. She cracked her eyes open, her fingers growing cold at Loki’s unchanged demeanor.

Loki’s chest heaved at her response. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered, her eyes shut at the vulnerability of their situation. He already knew what she was going to say, but to hear it from her own mouth, her voice tiny as ever in fear that he wouldn’t return her feelings had him gasp slightly. His blood ran cold, his mind freezing at another realization. He loved her too. Of course he did. How could he have been so blind? He loved her so much, he hadn’t even noticed. Finish it! Finish it right now! Before you make things worse! His mind screamed at him. He knew what he had to do. Swallowing, he tried to memorize the feel of her hands against his. This was all he was ever going to have. A memory. A memory of his little lioness, a memory of what he would have had if he was someone different. Someone nicer, better. Someone not him. He pulled away from her, and met her eyes, his expression stoic and emotionless. Like the monster he was.

“Pity.” He whispered, his heartbreaking at how y/n’s eyes widened. He thought he experienced heartbreak when he lost his mother. As destructive as that moment was, many years ago, he believed he wouldn’t feel anything over this. After all, you can’t break something that’s already broken. But boy, was he wrong. This was heartbreak. And apparently, it's even worse when you go through it a second time. His veins felt like ice, his head heavier than ever. He could feel his throat closing up, all he wanted was to rip his heart out of his chest. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, he didn’t deserve to live after all that he had done.

“What?” came y/n’s voice, a little barely over a whisper. He couldn’t help but notice how her voice was heavy, laced with hurt.

“It’s a pity you think you love me.” He reiterated, his words chapping away at his already cracked heart.

y/n couldn’t process the event unfolding in front of her. Loki didn’t love her. No, worse. Loki thought it was stupid that she loved him. If she had any concern for her dignity, she would ask him to leave. But she loved him far too much. She decided to try one last time. Straddling him, she reached over and cupped his face in his hands, pressing her lips against his ice-cold ones. He was shocked for a moment, and before he realized, he was kissing her back. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you too. But all could do was try and engrave in his mind the feeling of her soft lips on his, the warmth of her hands against his cheeks. This was the end. He had to use all his willpower not to pull her in his arms and deepen the kiss, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Breaking away, y/n whispered, “it may be stupid that I do. Pathetic, even. -It isn’t pathetic. I love it.- Honestly, not one day goes by where I don’t face criticism about how I must be an ignorant fool to love someone like you. But what these people don’t understand, is that they are the ones that are ignorant. They do not see you as I do, and although I wish every day that they would, I doubt it will ever happen. You are, the best thing that has ever happened to me. That ever will happen to me,” she says, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Can’t you feel this? This is what I feel every time I think of you- this is how I feel every time you merely breathe in my direction. -You are the reason I still exist, my dear. You keep me tethered to the outside world.- My love for you has been in existence for far longer than our courtship. I wish I could do more than just tell you how much I love you, if I could, I would give you anything, everything you’ve ever wanted; my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you 2 years ago. So take it, trample over it- it was yours to do anything with anyway. -So was mine. I am yours, just as you claim to be mine.- I love you, Loki Friggason, and I refuse to stop. -I love you too, my darling y/n. but I must do this. For you. Forgive me.-”

All Loki could do was hold in all those thoughts he desperately wanted to put in words. He could feel his eyes well up, his chest convulsing for the umpteenth time. Inhaling her scent, he hoped he would remember the sweet smell of chocolate and wine she always smelled of.

With great restraint, he pushed her off of him, his heart churning at y/n’s gasp. Her heart cracked at his dismissal. He couldn’t look at her while he shattered her heart, while he ripped it right off the pedestal. This was the end.

“You say all this, but you mean nothing by it, I assure you. I have encountered numerous midgardians professing their love for me, but I can tell when someone lies y/n. And it is very clear to me how you are simply overwhelmed. You do not love me. You are simply but a blatant, ignorant fool.” Could his heart shatter any further? Apparently, yes. It clawed at his chest, pain searing in his bones. He would feel all of it. He would embrace it.

He forced his lips to morph into a twisted, sickening smile. Agony. That is what he felt. Fresh burning agony, like fire in his tendons.

“What we have is all but a product of boredom. I was simply bored, silly mortal.” He looked up at her when she gasped, her hand on her heart. It was almost as if he could hear it shatter. All he wanted to do was hold her and weep. Tell her how sorry he was. Tell her how he wished he was the person she truly deserved. Instead, he was going to crawl into a ball and wish for death.

He got up to leave. Once and for all. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he willed his tears to sink back to wherever they came from. He didn’t deserve to cry.

“Did I ever matter to you?” he heard her whisper. Deciding not to answer, he stepped towards the door before she called to him. “Did I, Loki?” she asked again, her voice steadier. There was the woman he had hopelessly fallen in love with. A lioness, she certainly was.

He turned around to look at her, the same lifeless smile dancing across his lips. If he was someone else, he would have been taken aback at y/n’s stoic expression. She would rise again. She would continue to live her life, and no one was going to stop her. Especially him. That was the lioness he knew of. The only evidence of her hurt was the tiny teardrops prickling in her eyes, which he could see only because of the morning sun rays peeking in through the gaps in the curtains. She never cried.

“No,” he breathed, swiftly exiting through the door before she could see the tears that had traitorously fallen onto his cheeks.

part 2 here!

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

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(TFATWS) Bucky x Reader: Protective- Part 1

(Author’s Note: I watched TFATWS and loved it. So here we are).

The tension had finally fizzled out an hour or so into the trip- at least for a little while.

Your consulting criminal, Zemo, made himself comfortable as soon as he set foot on the jet. He was leaning back in his seat across from you, looking very pleased as he read a book and took an occasional sip from his champagne glass. His contented demeanor had visibly affected both of your friends, Sam and Bucky, causing their irritation with him to skyrocket earlier. But after some of the confrontations concerning Bucky’s inherited notebook from Steve, Sam’s music, and Zemo’s observations of you, things had finally calmed down.

He was a crafty one. He knew how to push buttons, knew exactly what to say to trigger each individual’s weak points. Things had begun to escalate especially when Zemo turned his attention to you. His piercing gaze had you frozen in place as he made inquiries. While he didn’t ask anything outwardly uncomfortable, the probing questions about your life were starting to make you uneasy.

The other two males didn’t take too kindly to Zemo’s attempts at conversation with you. Bucky stared out the window with his jaw clenched. At one point, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, causing the criminal to halt mid-sentence. He leaned over to raise his brow at you diagonally across the aisle of the jet. “_________, is he bothering you?”

You didn’t have to speak: the look on your face said it all, and Sam shifted in his seat again to look over at Zemo. “Alright, that’s enough.” His tone was firm and leaving no room to question.

Directly across the aisle from you to your right, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when Zemo followed Sam’s command. The jet had fallen silent except for the muffled whirring sounds of its mechanics.

You pretended to skim through a magazine that you’d found laying on a tray. With one hour down and twelve more to go on the flight, you felt the need to unwind a bit. Everything had happened so fast from the moment you agreed to go with your friends to Berlin to see Zemo. After Thanos’ horrible plan came to an end, things heated up when John Walker went public as “the new Captain America.” He’d even offered you a place working with him since you were part of Team Cap back in the day. You declined, of course, and found yourself even more determined to help Sam and Bucky.

You were happy for Steve. You were. It was still hard to have him gone. For years, ever since the Avengers broke apart over the Sokovia Accords and Bucky’s framing, you’d followed Steve. Even before then, when it was discovered that Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD, you’d left the broken agency to join him as he continued his fight against threats to the world

You hadn’t imagined that you and the others would be left to keep fighting without him.

“You in the market for a new grill?”

You were drawn from your deep thought to a set of dark blue eyes that looked from you to the magazine page that you hadn’t turned in at least ten minutes. You chuckled and closed the magazine, playing along. “Yes, I figured with all this extra time, I’d do a little shopping.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up in a brief show of amusement. You rose from the seat to go to his side, kneeling down beside his chair.

“Why does he even have this?” You lowered your voice as you glanced at the eccentric baron, setting the magazine back down onto the tray. “You’d think there would be more European fashion magazines or something.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to the man in question before leaning in to speak in an equally quiet tone. “I have to admit. We lucked out with him. Not only does he have a lead, but he’s got private transportation so we can stay under the radar.”

“I think we made the the right choice going to him,” you replied.

“We can only hope,” he muttered. “Seriously though, what were you thinking about when you zoned out?”

“Oh.” You averted your gaze, playing with the hem of your jacket. You didn’t want to delve into your train of thought. It was plain as day that Bucky and Sam were both dealing with Steve’s departure in their own ways, and you didn’t want to add to it or open up any healing wounds. So, you settled on being vague. “Just...everything.”

He seemed to know what you meant anyway. The silence that followed made guilt gnaw in your chest, but before you could say anything, Bucky spoke.

“Hey,” he nudged you with his shoulder, making you meet his gaze again. His eyes had softened significantly and forehead smoothed in absence of the lines caused by furrowed brows. It was a nice change from the scowl he had since the mission started. “Sorry we dragged you into this.”

You dismissed the apology with a casual wave of your hand. “You guys didn’t drag me into anything. I was along for the ride from the beginning.”

A comfortable silence fell between you then. He returned to gazing out the window while you stood up and headed back to your seat, sinking into it and letting your head tip forward. You figured that a cat nap was in order since you hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. All that business with an internationally-known criminal breaking out of prison had you on edge. With nothing but the sounds of occasional page-turning from Zemo’s book and Sam tapping his foot lightly to the beat of music he listened to on his phone with earbuds, sweet sleep claimed you in no time.

You were pulled from your dreamless slumber by voices, but your body wasn’t ready to respond just yet. The first thing you noticed was that you were leaning against something on your right side, your face resting on a soft material that held the scent of leather and cologne. Bucky’s scent. It must’ve been his jacket balled up to serve as a pillow. In fact, it was his voice rumbling closest to you.

“Stop looking at her like that.”

“Apologies, James, but I don’t know what you mean.” Zemo’s accented voice was quieter, but there was a sprinkle of amusement in his tone.

“You’re doing it right now.”

“Bucky, come on,” Sam interjected. “We managed to make it a few hours without killing the guy. Don’t let him get to you now.”

Zemo’s tone took on a new intensity, as if he was gripped by fascination. “You seem very protective of __________. The way you move around her is intriguing, as if prepared to defend her at a moment’s notice.”

“Don’t engage,” Sam warned in a low voice.

By now, you were almost fully awake. Despite the potentially awkward situation that Zemo was creating with the analysis of your friend, you figured it would be best to intervene. You shifted, blinking your eyes open.

“What’s going on?” you muttered, voice still a little rough from sleep. “It better be good because I haven’t slept that well in a while.” You lifted your head from Bucky’s jacket, eyes darting up to see him staring out the window again. “Sorry,” you muttered, brushing a bit of drool from his jacket before handing it back to him. He stole a glance in your direction again, not seeming to mind.

“No big deal. You needed the sleep.”

Bucky didn’t say another word, so you turned to Sam for answers. He shrugged with the shake of his head. “Zemo’s being... well, Zemo.”

You nodded in understanding, as if that simple phrase was all the explanation you needed. Zemo caught your gaze, the corners of his lips turning up a smile.

“As I mentioned before, we will have to go undercover to meet with Selby in Madripoor. I was merely thinking of disguises for you and Sam.”

He seemed like was telling the truth, but you didn’t doubt that he relished the added bonus of getting under Bucky’s skin in the process. While Bucky had been protective of you and those who chose to put themselves on the line to prove his innocence when it came to the UN bombing, you hadn’t expected him to be quite that defensive in this situation. As flattering as it was in some ways, it made you worry. Zemo knew what buttons to push. Would he eventually push a button to make things go his way? To forward some plan of his?

You got up to stretch and use the refresher. You took your time since there were still several hours left in the flight. Zemo had informed the group that upon landing, there would be limited window to get into costume and go over your characters before heading to Selby’s club.

- - - - - - -

“Only an American would assume that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo complained. You stole a glance at your friend who gave his outfit another displeased look. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” He handed his phone over so Sam could get a look at his character’s picture.

“He even has a bad nickname. He does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you asked, pulling the jacket over your form tighter. You wore a dark blue dress that went to your knees. The material was soft and had a subtle glimmer in the light, and the outfit was complete with a pair of black heels that clacked on the pavement with each step, a shiny silver bracelet, and the black jacket that you were glad to have in the chilly air. The group was walking to the halfway point of the bridge to be picked up.

“You will be my date,” Zemo replied casually.

You gave him an incredulous look. “Really? I’m just the date?”

He released a sigh before launching into explanation. “You don’t exactly resemble any crime bosses. Besides, it’s not uncommon for dates to come and go in this town. No one will be asking who you are. No one will expect what’s coming to them if we need to fight. You may have the greatest advantage out of all of us.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point.

“Just remember to remain at my side at all times,” Zemo continued. “Make it look convincing that we are together.”

You refused to meet his amused look. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

A black car idled just ahead, and Zemo once more reiterated how important it was to stay in character. He told the group about High Town and Low Town, though you were a little distracted by the city lights reflecting off the water.

You squeezed into the backseat between Bucky and Sam. The ride was tense with only the sound of your breaths in the small space. Bucky stared straight ahead through the windshield even as motorcycles surrounded the car and escorted it the rest of the way. The car dropped you all off near the club, and Zemo held out his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He put an arm around your waist at a respectful level, but Bucky took one look and halted.

“Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Bucky snapped. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

Sincerity was written all over Zemo’s features as he responded. “I assure you, it will.” Suddenly, his eyes flickered with realization, though you glanced between the two men in confusion. “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand your discomfort. However, you are playing the part of the Winter Soldier. It is best if she remains inconspicuous as my date.”

“Wait, that’s what this is about?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Who ________ pretends to date?” Your eyes fell to the pavement. The situation was already unpleasant. The last thing you wanted was to bring confusing feelings into the mix while in the middle of an important mission.

Bucky began to protest. “No, I-”

“Relax,” Sam said, holding up his hands to show he meant no offense. “________, you can stay by me. Smiling Tiger can have a date, right?” He looked to Zemo for confirmation.

“Excellent idea.” He nodded in approval. “Just remember to stay in character. All of you.”

(Link to Part 2)

#the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #tfatws #tfatws bucky #tfatws bucky x reader #mcu bucky x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky

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voxofthevoid · 3 years

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Fandom Etiquette 101: Don’t Be a Dick in the Comment Box

Actually, just don’t be a dick, period, but if you must, then don’t do it in the comment box.

I wouldn’t say I have a thick skin. Things don’t roll off me. I get hurt, I get irritated, and I get incandescently angry.

Thing is, I also have a certain amount of faith in my skills—writing skills, in this case—that has been cultivated by roughly a decade of practice and the experience that comes along with it. I am also not under the impression that my work lacks flaws. Some of these flaws are born of inattention because I write for fun in my free time—time that’s growing more and more sparse as school turned to college turned to grad school turned to a full-time job. Plus, I’ve long since accepted that artistic growth is a never-ending process.

So even if I don’t have a thick skin, if someone shits on my work, I won’t stop writing or doubt myself. I’ll just get royally pissed at the little shit who has the audacity to come into my goddamned yard and tell me how to mow my goddamned lawn.

A lot of writers react the way I do. Others don’t. Be it because they’re newer, more nervous, rejection sensitive, or just have different personalities, the fact remains that a lot of writers will be disheartened, devastated, and/or discouraged by negative feedback. There’s nothing wrong with that.

No writer should have to deal with people being assholes about something they created out of love and shared for free so others sharing that love can partake. Fanfic is free in terms of money, but a ton of emotion and labor goes into it. My work involves staring at MS Word for a minimum of eight hours a day to poke at and pick apart language; it’s not easy to do it for a couple more hours to write and polish that writing. Now, that’s my choice, and one I make because I damn well want to, but the point is that it’s a great deal of effort.

A large part of what makes it worth it is the fandom. Yes, I write for myself, because there are stories in me that want out, and no, I won’t let others dictate what I write or the way I write it. But reader engagement is a gift—a treasured one. The interactions, the conversations, the sense of a larger community—all of that means a lot to me. I think most, though likely not all, fic writers will agree on that. For me, every Ao3 email heralding a comment brings with it a thrilling jolt of pleasure.

But the sweetness of that jolt turns sour very fast if the comment in question contains negativity. And I do mean contain. A comment doesn’t have to be wholly hateful or dismissive to ruin a writer’s day. Criticism sandwich is all well and good to those who’ve asked for constructive criticism, but to those that haven’t, that sandwich will just taste like shit, regardless of how delicious the padding. Tumblr has many long, in-depth discussion posts about unsolicited concrit, so I won’t rehash everything here. Suffice to say that not all writers are using fanfic as practice for “real” writing, nor do all of us aim to actively improve. And the ones who do want constructive criticism often have trusted betas or writing groups for that purpose. Unsolicited criticism dropped into the comment section of a published work isn’t as constructive as the commenter fancies it to be.

And then there are those comments that don’t bother with the sandwich method or any niceties. I’ve seen plenty of these in both my works and those of others, and they range from comically insulting to polite but infuriating. Honestly, I find the former to be easier to handle—if someone’s being an asshole in my inbox, it’s simple enough to tell them to fuck off. The nicely phrased ones are trickier, for obvious reasons. But fact is, if someone has read thousands of words and can only leave a comment pointing out some drawback— for instance, a typo, some factual inaccuracy, OOCness, or even continuity errors—then the problem lies with the reader, not the writer. But the writer, who’s often the one more emotionally attached to and invested in their craft, is the one who bears the brunt of the damage.

They shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.

So, to reiterate, don’t be a dick in the comment box. If you have nothing nice to say, hush and click that pretty red X. If the writer hasn’t asked for concrit, don’t give it. If you liked the story but have the burning urge to tell the writer everything they got wrong, take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself some hard questions.

#vox has opinions #unsolicited criticism #rant hour with voxofthevoid #I have enough bullshit to deal with IRL guys don't need it online too #I've officially rescinded my 'yes feel free to point out typos' comment policy #I am very very tired

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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Just an observation. The vminnies were being fed pretty heavily since the beginning of the year, and now the content seems somewhat focused on the other pairings (mainly involving JM & JK). This is not shipper narrative but what we are being shown. Why do you think this happens? We definitely don’t need weekly content aligning with our ship of choice, but it is something I have noticed from the time vmin caught my attention. Editing truly can mess with your head, not to mention when it jumps all over the timeline. I have to say, as great as Let’s BTS was, it left me scratching my head more. The entire group’s reaction was all over the place, and sorry JM was rather distant.

Hi everyone,

Since Admin 1 is very busy again, I’ll (Admin 2) answer instead.

It's true, I agree with the anon. All the content we receive is edited and by design is supposed to show us all the members and their interactions. However, depending on what we focus on, we will see our chosen members more than others. In this case our chosen members are Jimin and Taehyung, so naturally in every content we get, we notice their interactions with the members most, or lack thereof. One thing that’s important to keep in mind is that we don’t know why things are edited the way they are, be it to make them funnier, so scenes that are less funny get cut, or more serious, so scenes that are not serious are cut, etc. Does that mean the editors were told to cycle through “feeding” different ships? No. It just depends on which members interactions happened and which fit the mood of the content best, or which added more to the point/theme/message of the content.

Admin 1 wrote a post about a similar topic (as in the “no screen time = no bond” paradox) some time ago which you can read here.

Even if a specific piece of content has more interactions between, like you gave as example, Jimin and JK, that doesn’t mean it is this way for the sake of shippers, but that perhaps their interactions were ones that fit the episode best, but whatever else is interpreted into that, that’s only on the shippers and their narratives and often does not have anything to do with the actual interaction itself. Notice how some will take the most inconsequential interaction and turn it into the biggest romantic gesture ever, and yet gestures that really show a form of gentleness or “intimacy”, like Taehyung taking Jimin’s cold hand and touching it to his cheek, are ignored or drowned out or belittled even though, subjectively, interactions like these show us something that very much is significant.

So while we might get more interactions between members X and Y, the type of interaction is what makes the difference. As well as the choices editors made for whatever reason, but those reasons have nothing to do with romance. Bhit and the editors for their different content are not a dating agency and BTS content isn’t part of a larger “romantic” show like, I don’t know, Love Island.

Furthermore, we already had this conversation so many times, and Admin 1 also already asked for questions insinuating these types of things, to stop because it makes us feel like a broken record. We have to learn to differentiate between normal interactions between friends and those that actually hold more significance, because most interactions are just interactions between best friends and any romantic vibes and implications are projected onto them by those that want them to be this way. If you watch content through a more OT7 lens, these interactions will just be funny to you and you won’t think of them as “ship” interactions. After all, even OT7s noticed how much more significant Taehyung’s words to Jimin in Let’s BTS were while they laughed at how Jimin’s request from JK was like a typical thing between best friends/brothers. Only their shippers decided that their “I’m hyungs copycat” message has deeply romantic implications, because that’s what they wanted from that scene.

Besides if you pay attention to what happens in shipper spaces, when there are more vmin moments with clear implications pointing toward them being more, immediately other shippers jump into action to show that their ship supposedly has way more romantic interactions than whatever vmin did. Even if they are the only ones who see things like that. It’s treated as competition, which is unhealthy and misses the point.

Let's BTS was very interesting and funny and, in places, very controversial when it comes to shippers.

I've read a lot of different reactions. From the very nice and sweet reaction of OT7s to Taehyung's words over to unpleasant and even offensive opinions from shippers of other ML ships.

According to Jk*okers, Taehyung acted inappropriately and intrusively, in the opinion of Tk*okers this letter was actually somehow meant toward JK etc. the list goes on and on.

In my opinion, Jimin was not distant. Jimin was nervous and a bit surprised, but also behaved a bit as if he knew what to expect.

I think that: If Jimin hadn't agreed with Taehyung's words and all of his actions, we would never have seen it, the way Jin asked the You Quiz editors to cut large parts of his answers as well. The program was not live, it was edited, had music in the background to set the mood, and so on. As example the letter was blurred out for dramatic effect or because a request for that was made, we might never know, but if the translation of the content of the card being for Jimin’s eyes only was the right one, then it would be the latter option. If this situation had not been welcomed and okay with Jimin, it probably would not have been aired in this form and instead replaced by something else, redone, or a million other options. Jimin was visibly nervous, maybe a bit embarrassed, he wanted this situation to "pass" as quickly as possible, but he was definitely not distant or anything else that has a negative implication/connotation.

On the other hand, I personally saw some satisfaction on Jimin's face. Let's not pretend that not everyone would be happy to receive such a message from the most beautiful man in the world (lol). Taehyung spoke honestly about his feelings (“Jimin-ah, I like you the most”) and Jimin reacted the way he did. He didn't know what to do, whether to laugh or cry or run away from nervousness, but there was no negative reaction on his part. Jimin, with a very serious face and focused eyes, replied clearly by saying “Thank you, Taehyung, I also like you a lot”. He wouldn’t say that if he was distant, or if he wouldn’t feel that way or if he didn’t like the situation or Taehyung’s words.

Now firmly putting on my delulu hat just to be sure: In my opinion there was something important on this piece of paper but phrased in a way that wouldn’t cause any weird thoughts in the KBS staff (since those cards were clearly written and prepared by the same person and not the members themselves since the handwriting was the same) but that Jimin would understand. Taehyung and Jimin know each other long enough to communicate things toward each other in a manner that only they will understand the implication of something, I’m certain of that. Jimin's words were an answer to Taehyung's “confession” and while outwardly they didn’t seem as weighted as Taehyung’s, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did hold a deeper meaning that only the two of them understood. Maybe it has something to do with the ring that suddenly appeared on Taehyung's index finger?

Okay, taking my delulu hat off again.

In summary, in my opinion even if certain content has more scenes between Taehyung/Jimin and Z member instead of between the two of them, that doesn’t mean it’s to “feed” other shippers or that it contradicts vmin as what we see them. It all boils down to editing choices and what fits the mood/theme/message etc of the content best and what footage was captured. Also we should watch content as ARMY first and shippers second that way we don’t see other “ship” interactions as “negative” but simply as what they are: cute/funny/interesting interactions between the members, whom we should all love.

And no, Jimin wasn’t distant. He reacted in a way that made sense and fit Jimin, as in his way of keeping private things private and guarding his more affectionate interactions with Taehyung. If he hadn’t liked it or hadn’t agreed with Taehyung’s words, he wouldn’t have told him that he likes him a lot too, but instead he could’ve said something teasing to downplay the situation, or used Yoongi’s screaming and the other members reaction (I talked about those, and especially Jin’s, here) as an out to not say anything at all. But he didn’t. (also, to reiterate what I, and we, have said many times before, if Taehyung/Jimin were romantically involved with someone else, they wouldn’t do these things with their romantic implications, but they do them, so…)

I wish you a nice day or a quiet night, depending on where you are.

#vmin #Taehyung #Jimin #answered ask #answered by admin 2

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 4 years

Text

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1,839

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Rose apply makeup before The Doctors self proclaimed “theatre event” that he’s taking you to. When the Doctor comes in to complain about the amount of time you’ve taken, you and Rose pull a small prank on him. That’s it, that’s the plot.

A/N: This was completely self indulgent, I've wanted to be Rose’s best friend since I was 9, so that’s basically all this is.

You hummed along to the music playing softly in the background. It had been a fair while since you had listened to early 2000’s music; travelling on the TARDIS didn’t leave much time for nostalgia, what with the different planets, the aliens, and completely different time periods from when your existence wasn’t even a sparing thought.

Still though, it was nice to take a break every now and again.

“It’s not really nostalgia though, is it,” Rose said from beside you after you brought it up. “I mean, this song’s only a year or so old. We used to play it in the shop.”

“Before it blew up.”

“Ha yeah,” Rose grinned. “Before it blew up.”

“Although,” you raised an eyebrow at her and reiterated the year you were from. “It’s definitely nostalgia.”

Rose rolled her eyes good naturedly, then pointed to the vanity next to you. “Can you pass the eyeliner over?”

You hummed and reached over to the one she was pointing at; it was an eyeliner pencil, a black one with a little sharpener on the lid.

It sat on a vanity made of warm mahogany wood, among a myriad of makeup from foundations, eye shadow palettes, lipsticks, and rouge.

Beside it and in front of you and Rose was a large mirror that ran from the floor to the ceiling, on the only solid wall in the TARDIS’ wardrobe. You and Rose liked to think The TARDIS had made the area specially for you both, so you could do your makeup together.

You plopped back down onto the floor and passed the eyeliner to Rose, who was sitting cross legged and doing the finishing touched to her foundation.

You were poised to go to a theatre event - what it was exactly, the Doctor wouldn’t tell you. It didn’t matter if you often wore makeup often or not, right now, you were feeling it, and you figured a theatre event was a nice opportunity to change things up a bit.

You frowned at the eye shadow palette in front of you, trying to work out which colours would blend the best and how you could actually use it.

You jumped as one of your favourite songs from the early 2000’s began playing, turning to Rose with a grin. She was looking at you with an equally bright smile, her right eye only half painted with the eyeliner pencil left dangling in her hand. Almost instinctually you both broke out into song, singing along terribly.

Your voice cracked at one of the high notes, and Rose laughed, shaking you lightly as she continued. The make-up was forgotten as the pair of you danced, moving in a way that was particularly reminiscent of some sort of Tik Tok routine.

Not that you would tell Rose that particular tidbit, it was a bit early to explain Tik Tok to her.

At the end of the chorus Rose stumbled with her words over the lyrics. It was so surprising that it shocked you out of your exuberance, and the pair of you were left giggling on the floor. The song played in the background, a harmony to your laughter.

The Doctor cleared his throat, and you reached over in between your laughter to turn the music down. From this angle you could see him clearly, he was leaning against a poll behind you, sans coat, with only two of the buttons on his pinstripe suit done up.

You gazed at Rose, who raised her eyebrow at you and smirked playfully. “Did’ja need us Doctor?” She turned back to the mirror, applying her eyeliner and trying to stifle her laughter.

“Dunno,” he said. You looked up at his reflection in the mirror in front of you, locking eyes with you, and he winked, before heaving himself off the poll. “You two’ve been taking an awful long time.”

“What,” you said, and passed Rose her mascara wand, placing the eye shadow back onto the shelf. You’d keep things more natural and match Rose. “You’ve been bored?”

“What – me? Nah, I’m never bored.”

You let out a brief laugh. “Ah yep, that’s completely accurate.”

“Well, again,” The Doctor said. “You both have been gone for a while.”

Rose snorted and picked up your phone, glancing at the display. “We’ve only been about 20 minutes. You’re getting more impatient by the day.”

“Impatient, oh now that’s nonsense,” he drawled and crouched down behind you both. “Now, what are we doing here?”

You waved your eyeliner pen in front of him, and then began drawing on a wing. “You said theatre event so here we are,” you gestured at you and Rose with your free hand. “Getting ready for a theatre event.”

Rose said her thanks for the mascara and began applying her first coat, chewing on her lip as she did so.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye then back at your reflection as you filled your eyeliner in, before starting on your other eye. “How many coats of that do you do anyway?”

Rose hummed. “Dunno, however many I need until I think it looks good.”

You chuckled. It was just so early 2000’s of her. Sometimes, your eyelids looked heavy just looking at her eyelashes.

Rose looked at you aghast. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” you poked your tongue to your teeth as you smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “I was just thinking of makeup trends, how things change.”

“Y’know sometimes, you can be as cryptic as him,” she gestured to The Doctor with her head for good measure, and set out a couple different shades of rouge as the next coat of mascara dried.

The Doctor gawped. “When am I ever cryptic?”

Both you and Rose paused what you were doing so you could stare down his reflection in the mirror.

“Alright fine,” he relented. “I guess sometimes I change the topic of a conversation.” The Doctor cocked his head to the side, watching you both thoughtfully as the pair of you continued on with your makeup. “Why do you both always need to do this, anyway?"

Rose was applying another coat of mascara when she replied. "Come off, you're not having a go at us for wearing makeup now, are you?"

"No, no, not at all, just curious really. I should start factoring this extra time in when I take you two places, because blimey you take a while.” He looked towards the vanity. "And that's a fair amount of it all too, do you really use all of that?"

You stuck your eyeliner pen out as if it were a rod. “Says the man with a collection of hair gel for his gravity defying hair – oh, and could you pass me those eyelashes over there?"

You gestured to the vanity and The Doctor’s gaze followed.

“Eyelashes,” he drawled, standing up and meandering over. You watched his reflection as his hands danced over the various products, until he landed on the pair of false lashes you’d been hoping to apply. He lifted it up, meeting your gaze through the mirror. “These ones?”

You hummed and made a grabbing motion with your hands. “Yeah, thanks.”

The Doctor resumed his crouched position behind you and Rose, and passed you the small box. Your fingers brushed over his lightly as you grabbed the small parcel. You felt a jolt run up through your fingers and up your arm and heard his breath hitch slightly. You took the box out of his grasp and swallowed, ignoring whatever that was.

“False eyelashes,” The doctor grinned, and ran his fingers over his cheek. You tried not think about why he was doing that, it was awfully distracting. “You humans I swear sometimes you do the strangest things. It’s bloody brilliant.”

Rose grinned, and locked eyes with you, holding up the her blush compact and a brush. She nodded her head to the Doctor and you returned her grin, giving her subtle thumbs up.

“It’s not that strange,” you said, distracting the Doctor so he wasn’t watching what Rose was doing. “It’s basically just experimentation, or just making yourself feel prettier.”

Rose swooped in, poking some of her chosen blush onto The Doctors nose. “You could probably do with some pretty-ing up every now and again yourself.”

He scrunched his face up in protest.

You snorted, laughing at The Doctors reaction, and letting the magnetic eyelashes clip onto your eyes. You blinked a couple of times, letting your eyes adjust to the added weight.

Rose looked to you with a frown. “Wait, don’t you need glue with that?”

You winked at her. “They’re magnetic.”

“Could say the same about you,” The Doctor grinned that ever so charming smile at you, the one that would make you all flustered if you didn’t know any better.

You let a solitary bark of laughter. “That was a terrible pun. It’s a wonder anyone ever takes you seriously,” you grinned to match him. “You look sunburnt, by the way.”

Rose laughed and The Doctor’s hand flew to cover his nose. “Oi, that wasn’t necessary!”

He rubbed at his nose furiously and Rose fell into a pit of laughter. “I ‘spose I could have chosen a different colour.”

“Well Rose,” you eyed the palette, then turned back to her. “It looks great on you.”

The Doctor hummed, pulling his hand away. The rouge was gone. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be ‘pretty-ed up’ like the pair of you.”

“Oh,” you drawled. “So we’re meant to be ‘pretty-ed up’ then? Is that it?”

The Doctor spluttered, his eyes growing like saucers. “What? No, that’s – that’s not what I meant at all, you’ve always been pretty, still are of course, with or without the,” he gestured at your face. “Well, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Doctor?”

Rose met your eyes and smirked playfully. “Looks like someone is a little bit flustered.”

The Doctor jumped up, suddenly, as if eager to get a move on. “Well come on you two, this is a time machine, we haven’t got all day!”

You frowned for a moment. “I think that’s the exact opposite of what the phrase ‘time machine’ suggests.”

Rose laughed, sticking out her hand for you to take. “Let’s humour him, shall we.”

“Oh I’m standing right here,” The Doctor said and turned around to take off. He spun back round just as fast, and met your gaze. “And flustered – me? Never,” he tapped against his temple. “I’ve always got a plan up in here.”

He gave you both a cheeky wave and shot off again, giving you no time at all to process what the hell he just said.

You clutched against Rose with one hand, fumbling as you placed the false lashes box back on the vanity. “What do you mean you’ve got a plan?” You called after him. “A plan for what?”

Rose just laughed beside you, and tugged you along. “Well come on, let’s find out then!”

A/N: This isn’t really what I wanted to post this week, but I haven’t had time to write anything new so here’s something from the drafts. I hope you enjoyed it!

#the doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor #Rose Tyler

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imaginewarehouse · 3 years

Text

Tate Staskiewicz x Reader || Oneshot

Plot:

Inspired by ‘Something That We’re Not’ by Demi Lovato. Basically, you and Tate hooked up one night… for the second time… and you’re content with that just being a wrap (That’s that! That was good, that’s enough- why push it?). You aren’t a relationship person, you don’t like the commitment. But… Tate has other plans.

Warnings: Hmmm, I don’t think so. Commitment issues?

🔆 🔆 🔆

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hm?” I look up from my - fucking bottom, - locker and to the table Sarah and Justine are at eating their lunch. Sarah, the talker, is staring at her phone; A deep frown plastered to her lips that causes my eyebrows to knit together in confusion. Justine notices, too, and leans over to see what’s on the phone- and when she does see, her brows promptly shoot up. Oh, boy. That’s not good to see. What’s happened? “Yeah?”

“Did you and Tate really hit it off the other night??”

… w h y? My heart just about stops beating in fear. Why. Why mention Tate. Any mention of a one night stand in that tone is not going to be good. I get up from the floor and rush into the empty seat beside Sarah, looing expectantly for her to explain but she just looks right back. Looking for an answer to her question. “Uhh? Yeah, I guess?? We had a good time. Why! ?” Oh good god, tell me the whole store doesn’t know. What is it?? A video, pictures, a running gag!? Good god, I thought we were beyond slut shaming but I guess not-

Sarah’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Are you dating then, now??”

Now that really causes my heart to feel like it’s skipped a beat. Or two. “What!? No! Why would you say that? It was just sex- Oh.” I look sheepishly to Justine, waiting for the high five or the ‘Heyo!’ that’s classic from her at the word ‘sex’… but receive nothing but an awkward look- her gaze turning to the wall as she takes a nervous sip of her coffee instead of talking. Realisation that this is really not good dawns on me. Jesus christ- Justine skipping the chance to talk sex? Its like a sign of the apocalypse. What’s next? The river Nile turning to blood? “Show me the phone, please.”

Sarah glances at Justine, before letting out a sigh and revealing the screen of her iPhone to me. It’s Tate’s Instagram profile- and it says, ‘In a Relationship’, at the top. I look up, deeply confused to Sarah and Justine.

“It didn’t say that before Saturday night.” Justine explains. The night Tate and I were at the bar and hooked up. “Trust me, I keep a close eye on those kinda status’.” She grins, proudly, before sobering again and adding lowly, “And Tate is pretty anal about how his social media looks, so… “She shrugs, meaningfully. So, he knows that that incriminating, incorrect phrase is printed there in his bio.

Sarah vocalises my assessment. “We can’t see him putting that kind of thing down willy nilly… Also, it says that on all his other profiles, too. Snap Chat, Twitter, even Facebook.”

“Yeah, and I mean,” Justine’s cute little nose scrunches up and her eyebrows knit together as she looks at Sarah who mouths ‘I know, right?’, back. “Who even uses Facebook anymore?? Ugh.”

I’m running through the night in my head, wondering if there was any point that I might have hinted to the pharmacist that I was looking for anything more then casual sex, at all. And I find nothing! I did not treat him any differently to how I would usually treat a person in his position- and that treatment has been carefully strung together and thought out so confusions like this do not occur. And it has nothing to do with us working together, I know that much seeing as Isaac understood just fine!

… well actually, honestly, mayyyybe I shouldn’t have slept with him at all this weekend… seeing as this was not our first time… that might have given him the wrong idea...

But god fucking damn it, Tate’s handsomeness obscured my rational and interesting conversation distracted me. I’m a fucking idiot!

I am not a relationship kinda person! I can’t be in a relationship with, fuck I don’t know… Channing Tatum- much less Tate the Pharmacist! Commitment is not for me; No, no, no-no, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck… I have to talk to Tate.

“I should go talk to him,” I say, excusing myself from the table with a polite smile but freaking out inside as I get out of the chair, kneel down and lock my locker back up, then rush out of the room leaving the girls behind in my dust. As I’m passing Grocery, I’m stopped by Cheyanne and Marcus who have their phones out, and show me a picture of me on Tate’s Twitter w i t h a h e a r t emoji and the tag #bae. My eyes bulge nearly out of my head as I look in horror at it over Cheyanne’s shoulder.

“You know, now that I’m seeing it- you two are a cute couple.” Marcus’ words cause a tsunami in my brain- all the little Inside Out-type emotions are drowning and struggling- and Fear is screaming.

“Yeah you do, but- I didn’t think you ‘did’ commitment, Y/N?” Cheyanne adds, sceptical.

“Uh, I do- “Damn. I slam my mouth shut again. I can’t talk to her about this before I talk to Tate. So instead, I just toothlessly smile, and shrug at the two- For lack of any appropriate words. “Anyway! I gotta go- see y’all later!”

And then I’m off again.

I find Tate exactly where, and in what position, I thought he would be; Sitting behind the lonely pharmacy desk with his feet up on the register bench and his nose buried in his phone rather then working. I approach with caution, but confidence also, and knock on the desk surface by his feet to get his attention- and watch his eyes light up when he sees me.

Oh dear god.

“Hey, love bug.” - Oh god, oh god! - “Nice of you to visit me at work!”

Oh… is it? Is it really? Nerves swallow me whole and I nearly shrink back down because to just go with this relationship for the rest of our lives until we get married and have 4 children together and raise them and send them all off to community college instead of having an awkward conversation, sounds really good. How dare he look so soft- this T a t e. Tate is narcissist and an asshole. This isn’t how the world is supposed to work-

“Hey… “My voice cracks like pubescent teenage boy, and I avoid eye contact like a criminal. “Tate, um- So! I think that… maybe, possibly… we might have gotten our signals crossed the other night?”

Tate tilts his head to the side and sets his phone down- all attention on me. “How so?”

“Well,” Why is my voice so high??? I cough into my fist, trying to clear it and return it to its regular register, but fail. The show must go on, though. “Um, I-I was under the impression, that… what we were doing, was, uh… a one-time thing? I guess?” Tate’s eyebrows begin to knit together. “A-and, I think you might have interpreted it a different way?”

“So… you’re saying, that you were just using me, for sex. And somehow that’s my fault?”

My eyes blow wide open and I rush to amend his reiteration as he gets up from his chair and stands, looking down on me now. And… I… oop. That’s just great “No no! Not your fault, at all Tate!! I was just at that bar looking for… err, well, sex! And I thought you were too, but apparently not, and… do you understand?”

“I understand.” For a millisecond, I begin to relax- before Tate’s eyes narrow so much so that they’re nothing but sparkly, black-lashed slits of death. I wish I was at that bar now- I would order a Long Island Iced Tea and black out. “You’re screwing me.”

“What- No!”

“Yes! You want the rig, but not the rest of the machine.” Does he know what a rig is?- Either way, I solemnly, apologetically, shake my head. Well, yes, he’s correct, but I also don’t want to lose the, uh, machine! I really like talking to him when I’m stuck stocking shelves in the pharmacy! I don’t want to lose that? Then, suddenly like the changing wind, Tate’s eyes widen and a ghost of a smirk flickers across his face. “Oh, or- its more than that.” Hold on what. “Cuz Y/N, this isn’t the first time this has happened, you know? The first time, fine. I get it, you need a release. We all do- especially working a lowly job like you do, unlike mine. Heh. But you came back. To me. You could’ve approached anyone else at that bar and gotten the same results… but you came back to this one.”

Now I narrow my eyes and furrow my brows, leaning back from the self-absorbed chemist. “… what are suggesting, Tate?”

He lets the smirk come out, now, and the only comprehensive thought that passes through my brain is: ‘shittttt’.

“You just can’t get enough of me.”

“What!?” I gape, jaw dropped. Ridiculous!-

“I’m Y/N-Nip.” Oh sweet jesus. The thought genuinely seems to please him. Of course, it does. Ugh… No way. This cannot be right. I do not want a relationship! No way no how! “So it doesn't really matter if you don’t want me right now- because you will. We both know you will.”

“I- Tate! You’re cracked!”

He chuckles, dipping hands into the pockets of his lab coat and shaking his head slowly. “Love you too, babe.”

“TATE!”

“Yeah... you keep screaming my name like that. Good practise.”

“Oh my god!” I exclaim, covering the bottom of my face and closing my eyes, a grin hidden behind my hands at how ridiculous this is. He’s too cute, oh my god! “How have you twisted this, you insane person. I do not have feelings for you!- Well, romantic feelings.” I cross my arms across my chest. “I do not have the romantic feelings, for you. All the feelings that I have for you can be simply summed up by whatever insane, terrible illness that kept putting Lorelai and Christopher together.”

“Gilmore girls?” He grimaces.

“Yes.”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead and his eyes light up even more, despite his apparent aversion towards my chosen American favourite, and I immediately regret my analogy. “So, you admit there are feelings there?”

“Yeah- raw, animal sex-drive! That’s it!” I try to explain, looking away to avoid his eyes and feeling my cheeks warm up.

“But you like talking to me, too, don’t you.” Its not a question, its a statement. He knows! And... it is not totally wrong. I do like to talk to him. He’s a narcissist and he’s smug but I happen to find that funny on all but bad days, and he keeps up with my antics like no one else. But so does Sarah. So does Jonah. So do Mateo and the guy on Echat so charmingly called ‘B1gHairyDucksRunTheW8rld’- long story short; I’m darling and lots of people like to talk to me!

“Oh, Tate. Since when has an amusement by intelligent conversation been considered a for sure indication of desire for a romantic relationship?”

“Oh, its not. But combined with the ‘raw, animal sex-drive’ that you so aptly named, it kinda does.” He leans closer a little bit over the desk towards me. “Also, you’ve said my name no less then six times while you’ve been here.”

I laugh out loud- a definite sense of nervousness laced through the sound. “That means nothing!”

“No, no-no. It means... “ He raises his eyebrows again at me and sets me with a wise look, like somehow he knows the deep secrets that hide out in the recesses of my mind. “Something.”

Maybe he’s right.

“No!”

“Oh, believe what you want, love bug.”

“This is crazy, Tate. We are not in any kind of relationship and I do not have feelings for you!”

“So I’ll see you tonight?”

“No?”

“My place? 7?”

“You will not see me tonight!”

“Do you think you’ll end up staying over? Just because, man of riches and luxury that I am, I need to change the sheets if you are to set the right mood.”

My jaw drops. He’s lost his mind... and maybe I am too a little bit, because for some reason I’m leaning towards agreeing and going to his place tonight. Is there anything that I can say to him to dissuade him from these delusions of me being in love with him? Because I don’t!

But... I wont lie. This is the most stimulating conversation I’ve had in forever, it feels good. It always does, with Tate. But again still, I am not commitment girl. He is commitment guy. He may not seem like it, in fact he has the complete guide and tool set to be a grade-A douchebag, but he isn’t and he apparently somehow likes me which is not a horrible feeling and I do not want to let him down. I... really don’t.

Sighing, I collapse against the register and roll my eyes back. “Tate... I might like you. A lot.”

“Oh. Shocker.” He rolls his own eyes, pressing some buttons on the register. Oh, he thinks that he’s funny. Hm.

“... but I want you to hear me now. Okay? Listen.” Thankfully he looks up and focuses on me, blue eyes meeting mine. “I am not relationship compatible. I cant do it. I’ve tried it before and I couldn't hack it. Its not in my genetic make-up!- please don’t push this and make me ruin what we have.”

He takes a deep breath, and sighs it out... before reaching over and holding my hand on top of the desk. He sets me with a reassuring look. “... I’m a Pharmacist. We don’t ruin things.”

BONUS:

“... Jesus Christ you’re self absorbed.”

“Maybe you can work on that with me at my place at 7. Now I have to get back to work, pharmaceutical business waits for no man.”

“Oh boy.” I’m dating this guy...

#Tate Staskiewicz #Superstore #Tate Staskiewicz x Reader #Tate x Reader #Superstore Tate #Superstore Tate x Reader #Oneshot #Superstore Sarah #Superstore Justine #Justine Sikowicz #Superstore Cheyanne #Cheyanne Lee #Marcus White #Superstore Marcus

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id-rather-be-an-outsider · 3 years

Text

International Student

Meg Thomas x Rin Yamaoka

word count: 1579

summary: Meg goes overseas for college at a fancy university, which just so happens to be Rin’s university... and things get interesting when they wind up in the same restaurant ;)

a/n: college au. fluff and very minimal angst? this was originally posted on the DBD Amino back in June 2019. hope you like this little throwback!

masterlist

The first time Rin saw her, it was early in the morning. The sun was peaking over the horizon, and she was walking to her first class of the day. It was just a quick glimpse – a runner, charging past her, huffing and puffing, her stride smooth and swift. The sun framed the girl’s red hair and made it look as if it were on fire. Just a glimpse, just a glimpse. But Rin decided orange was her new favorite color. Not the bright orange like the mandarin, but the deep scarlet of a tiger lily, the kind her manager imported to add aesthetic value to the upscale restaurant.

The next time Rin saw her, it was late at night. She recognized the flaming red hair amongst a group of young people, all slender and with athletic frames, looking well-fed. She guessed the girl was on the track team from her university. They chattered amongst themselves as they walked through the door of the restaurant, the tinkling bell signaling their entrance.

Her coworker must’ve caught her staring, because she said, “Hey Rin, I’ve got to use the restroom, think you can take that group for me?” And winked at her before walking away. Rin cursed her coworker as she watched the host seat the group of athletes and look to her, seemingly saying, ‘get to work, girl’. Rin sighed to herself as she grabbed a notepad and a pen out of her pocket and walked over to the table, hoping to get it over with before she embarrassed herself.

Apparently, that wasn’t a possibility, as the first words that came out of her mouth were, “Hi beautiful… people! I’m Rin, and I’ll be your girlf- girl server today,” she emphasized server in hopes that no one caught her slip-ups, but could tell from the looks on everyone’s faces that they all caught them, “Can I start you guys off with some drinks?”

The entire table listed off what they wanted, until the ginger asked, “What would you recommend? I’ve never been here before.”

“I can’t afford to eat here myself, but if I could I’d get the redhead- I mean, the Red Lotus. I’ve stolen a sip of it before from a coworker’s drink, and I can tell you, nobody in town makes it like we do.” Seriously!? Rin thought to herself, brain, can you just, not embarrass me right now?

The redhead’s freckled face flushed red and her friends laughed, causing Rin to do the same. She whirled around and ran away, humiliated.

In the back room, Rin threw off her apron, shoved her notepad in her coworker’s face, grabbed her bag and fled out the back door.

“Ah shit.” The redhead said as she got up, her teammates guffawing at the commotion her very presence had caused.

“Better go hit that, Meg!” One of the guys joked, at which she turned to face him, eyes blazing even more than her hair.

“It’s not fucking funny, and if you learned to run as fast as you talk, we wouldn’t have lost our last meet! So please, shut the hell up for once in your life.” She rushed in pursuit of Rin, but ran into another waitress. “Where did she go?”

“Rin? Out the back, but you can’t just-”

Meg pushed past the waitress, “Sorry, no time to waste!” Burst through the back door, and chased after the thin frame that was Rin the Waitress. “Hey, wait!” The girl sped up, but it made no difference as Meg caught up to her in quick time. “Hey, hey, I’m so-“

“Just leave me alone!” Rin shouted at her, turning to face her. “If you’d noticed how awkward I was acting, you could’ve just done nothing! That would’ve been better.” Meg saw the mascara running down Rin’s face and felt her stomach twist.

“My friends are stupid, I’m sorry, I- I don’t even know why I call them my friends, they’re just my teammates, really... I guess I don’t have any friends here, now that I think about it.”

Rin sniffled. “Well, that makes two of us, then.

“Look, I’m really sorry.” She pulled out her wallet and ruffled around in it, pulling out a few a few yen. “I know this won’t cover much, it’s all I have on me right now until I go to the bank, but-”

“-Save it.”

“What?”

“Save your money, I don’t want it. It’s my fault for overreacting.” Rin said.

“I want to make it up to you, please,” Meg pleaded, “When are you off? I could… I could take you on a date there, I could-” Rin giggled. “What are you laughing at?” Meg asked.

“Wouldn’t it be weird if you took me on a date where I work?” She replied, smiling. Meg decided she liked it when she made Rin the Waitress smile. “Besides, I still don’t even know your name.”

“Oh! Right, uh- I’m Meg,” Meg said, “And I guess I wasn’t thinking about that. I can take you somewhere else, though? I know a really great yakitori place downtown that charges a reasonable price.” Rin laughed again, and her nose crinkled up in the cutest way, Meg noticed. “Okay, is there something wrong with my hair? I know I’m not that funny, so I don’t know what you’re laughing at.”

Rin stifled her laughter and said, “I just find it humorous that foreigners always pick that place to eat, is all.”

Meg crossed her arms. “How do you know it’s the same place everyone else goes to?”

“I just know, is all.”

“Okay, bet!”

“Bet.”

Two days later, Rin smugly announced, “It appears I was correct.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, you win.”

Rin grinned, “My father taught me to only to bet if you know you’re going to win.” Meg’s face grew distant, and Rin backstepped. “I’m sorry, did I say something rude? I- I’m-”

“No, no,” Meg reassured Rin, “You’re fine. It’s just… my dad left me. It happened when I was a baby, so I don’t remember him, but I don’t know… sometimes I wonder what he would’ve taught me if he were around.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think your mother did a fantastic job taking care of you. You’re here, right? In college?” Rin said, gently putting a hand on Meg’s shoulder.

“Yea, here, when I should be back home taking care of her. She’s sick, but she told me to go anyways.” Meg explained.

Rin nodded in understanding. “I can relate to that. My mother’s sick too, it’s… it’s why I’m waitressing, actually, to try and lessen the financial load on my father a bit.”

Meg smiled. “Glad to know somebody who gets it, at least.” Rin returned the smile, and the girls stood there, looking into each other’s eyes, until a gust of wind caused Rin to shiver. Meg snapped out of her haze and suggested, “Let’s go inside, before you catch a cold.”

Jokingly, Rin said, “Worry about yourself, Meg.” But walked through the door Meg pulled open for her.

After the meal, they bundled back up and walked down a street containing a few couples, savory smells wafting through the air, and a mixture of neon lights and paper lanterns strung up. It looked like a scene straight from a romance novel.

“Thank you for this, Meg. I’ve had a fun time. Usually I can’t afford to go out to eat, but it was a nice experience.” Rin smiled sweetly, nose crinkling again.

Meg replied, “I usually can’t either, but if I have the money now, why not? Even if it is just college money, it’s just sitting there.”

“That’s another thing we have in common, then.” Rin said.

After a few moments of silence, Meg spoke up. “Rin?”

“Yes, Meg?”

“I just… I just wanted to reiterate how sorry I am.” Meg mumbled sheepishly.

“It’s fine. It’s all made up for now, isn’t it?” Rin said, a skip in her step. “Everything is fine.”

“Well, not everything.”

“What do you mean?” Rin asked. Meg stopped, and Rin stopped with her, confused. Meg reached out, tentatively at first, then stronger once she saw Rin wasn’t backing away. She gently pushed Rin’s hair out of her face and behind her ears, and let her hand rest there, just barely touching Rin’s skin. She wanted to do more, but she told herself to wait.

“The first time I saw you, running past you on campus? The sun made your skin look like honey, and your eyes… it turned them golden.” She stared intensely into Rin’s eyes. Rin knew she was supposed to do something, but she had no idea what, so she stared back. “I just had to make sure I wasn’t wrong about that.”

Rin’s mind jumbled around for something to say. “And your eyes… they’re green.”

Meg laughed. “Yea, they are, isn’t that funny? Green’s lucky in Japan, right?”

Rin laughed too. “No, that’s China.”

“Oh.” Meg shrugged. “Well, I’m still lucky enough to have found you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Rin asked, still slightly unsure.

Meg leaned in. “I can’t be sure yet, but I’d like to think so.”

The girls closed their eyes and Rin closed the distance between their lips. The warm lighting of the lanterns combined with the noisy sounds of the city perfectly set the scene for the two young ladies. They may have seemed to be worlds apart, both literally and figuratively, but right then they were closer than ever, in every meaning of the phrase.

separator images found here

#outsider writes #fluff #college au #dbd #dead by daylight #rin yamaoka x meg thomas #meg thomas x rin yamaoka #meg thomas #rin yamaoka

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shotsbyshae · 4 years

Text

Stone Cold

Warnings: Language

Words: 2.8k

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ransom has one last interview left for his book.

Sequel to In the Dark

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

God knows I tried to feel, Happy for you. Know that I am, even if I, Can’t understand, I’ll take the pain.

The door to your apartment creaks as it opens, and your entire body goes numb as you see the man step into view. The remorseful look in his steel blue eyes tells you everything you need to know, but you ask anyway.

“He stayed with her, didn’t he?”

The tears well up in your eyes and Barnes closes the short distance to wrap his arms around you, sinking with you to the floor as silent tears stream down your face.

“I’m sorry – I’m so sorry, doll.”

“No – no,” you whisper quietly.

After everything.

Natasha.

Tony.

You can’t wrap your mind around how he could do this.

“Hey,” Ransom’s voice brings you back to the present. “What do you think? Wilson said he knew Rogers the longest, but I can’t get him to return my calls.”

You sigh because you’re not sure it’ll do any good. Sam had settled with a phone interview because he and Barnes were away on a mission, but Barnes had refused even that.

“I’ll talk to him,” you remark quietly. “He usually listens to me.”

Ransom stands from the chair in your living room and begins to approach where you stand in your kitchen, his head tilting curiously, “Really?”

You take a bite of the frosted flakes cereal from the bowl in front of you, shaking your head at him as you do so. “Nuh uh.” You mumble around the food in your mouth. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he smirks. “This is – classic.” You take another bite of cereal as Ransom leans against your counter. “You were pining and the best friend swoops in to – comfort you.”

“It’s not like that,” you state flicking your eyes over to him. “We’re friends.” You clench your jaw in annoyance as Ransom continues to stare at you with that boyish grin.

“Friends,” he reiterates not believing you.

“There was one tequila infused night that we don’t talk much about – okay.”

“I knew it!”

“Don’t make me stab you,” the words slip past your lips only half threatening as you point your spoon at him.

“With that?” Ransom questions, eyeing the utensil.

“It’ll hurt more,” you reply before shoving it back into bowl of cereal.

Later that afternoon

You spin quickly, but he grabs your wrist instantly. The vibranium is cool against your skin and the mechanisms in his hand make an almost ominous sound as his grip tightens and he flips you onto your back.

“You’re rusty,” Bucky remarks before helping you up from the sparring mat.

“Says the hundred-year-old man,” you state under your breath.

“I’m kicking your ass, aren’t I?”

“Oooohhh,” you cut your eyes over at him. “That new haircut is making you cocky.”

Tossing him his water bottle first before you take a long drink from your own, you contemplate how to ask your next question. With a sigh you finally do it, “Will you talk to Drysdale – please?”

A groan escapes the man in front of you and a look of annoyance crosses his face, “So, that’s the reason for your visit.”

“And to let you kick my ass,” you smirk at him, trying to ease his irritation.

He shakes his head at you, “I’ve seen photos. He looks just like him, doesn’t that bother you?”

“At first.”

Bucky stares at you for a moment, “Why do you care – about the book?”

You glance down at the bottle in your hand, wanting to give him the same excuse you’d given Sam when he’d asked you the same question.

Because Fury had asked you to.

However, you know Barnes can see through even the slightest of lies when it comes to you. “Regardless of what he did,” your words come out slowly. “Steve was the best of us.” You glance up at your friend. “I can’t let my feelings get in the way of that.”

A grin crosses his face, “He used to say that you were the best of us.” Your brows furrow in confusion and Bucky continues. “That even if the whole world sees the devil, you would only see a fallen angel.”

Your lips turn up in a sad smile, “Of course he did – jerk.”

“He was a punk,” Bucky comments reminiscently.

You fold your arms across your chest, “He was never mine, Buck. Part of me knew that going in, and I did it anyway.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

You shake your head slightly, “I don’t, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Bucky’s hand reaches for your shoulder, pulling you into a loose hug. You accept the embrace and wait a moment before continuing. “So, you’ll talk with Drysdale?”

Barnes sighs, “I guess.”

“Thank you.”

2 Days Later

Ransom’s phone vibrates from the dresser in the hotel room, and he quickly looks to see a new message from you.

My place 2pm today. Bucky will be here for your interview.

He smiles as he types his response.

Good job. You two better be dressed when I get there. No Tequila.

Your response is quick.

Shut up. Also, it's been a long week and I plan on binging Netflix while eating my body weight in pizza tonight, so the interview better be over by 5.

Drysdale laughs at your statement.

Promise. Besides I have a date at 7.

With who?

Girl I met in the hotel lobby.

Careful, if she’s named after a flower or food, she’ll expect payment at the end of the night.

Ransom sends two laughy face emojis, followed by the middle finger one.

You had offered up your apartment as a neutral meeting ground for Bucky to have the sit-down interview with Ransom, that didn’t mean you wanted to be present.

“Where’s –” Drysdale begins to question Barnes as he shrugs off his coat, looking around the apartment for you.

“She went for coffee,” Bucky responds, watching the man closely.

“Coffee – sure,” he states, pulling a notebook and pen from his bag, part of him disappointed that you aren’t present for the interview. Given your history with Barnes, you might be able to pull more information from him than Ransom could alone.

Bucky spends the next forty-five minutes answering questions about the years he spent with Steve before the serum – the war. All while trying to figure out the man sitting across from him who looks eerily similar to his best friend. Barnes doesn’t trust easily, especially trust fund, playboy types who seem to have ulterior motives.

It only takes an hour for those possible motives to make an appearance. Barnes had spoke earlier of Steve’s relationship with Peggy and Ransom had gotten his opinion on their dynamic, but it isn’t until Bucky mentions your name that he notices a shift in Drysdale’s demeanor.

“What can you tell me about their relationship?” Ransom questions with his phone lying in the center of the coffee table, recording every word they’re saying.

“Is that important to the book?” Bucky asks, almost defensively.

“Well – yea,” Ransom responds. “I want to show that relationship as well. To lose the love of your life, wake up seventy years in the future. Having to learn so much, including how to love again. She loved him, that much I know.” He hesitates a moment. “And he loved her.”

“He did,” Bucky practically cuts him off.

“O-kay,” Drysdale replies. “And – then he left.” Barnes stares at him threateningly before he leans back on the couch, folding his arms across his chest as Ransom continues. “I’m just trying to figure out why.”

“Why?”

“It really seemed to affect her,” Ransom replies, watching the man across from him curiously, unsure who’s interviewing who now.

“Of course it affected her,” Bucky states. “Don’t sit there acting like you know her – you don’t. I was there – you weren’t. I thought this book was about Steve.” Drysdale shifts in his chair as Bucky continues. “Is that what all this is really about – her?”

Ransom narrows his eyes, “No.”

Bucky leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “See – I’m beginning to think it is. That’s why you tracked her down, because she didn’t fall into bed with you. Then, to your surprise, you find out about Steve and it gives you the perfect reason to hang around – a book.” He watches Ransom’s jaw clench. “I’ve known men like you. Always wanting what you can’t have and trying to burn the whole world down just to get it.” Bucky can see the anger on his face, but he doesn’t ease up. “All because – why? Your mother didn’t hug you enough as a child?”

“Careful Barnes,” Ransom sneers. “You’re sounding a bit jealous.”

Bucky laughs, “Trust me, I’ll never be jealous of you.” He stands up from the couch, glaring down at Ransom. “Because, I know her, and she’ll never be able to look at you and not see him.” A small malicious smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “She’ll always see Steve.”

Drysdale drops his notebook on the coffee table as he stands up, eyes narrowing at the man across from him, “Keep telling yourself that, if it helps you sleep better at night.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Although, I would think that would be the last thing to keep you up at night, being a former Hydra assassin and all. Exactly how many people have you killed Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky’s fists clench at his sides, “Too many, but I can always add one more.”

“That’s enough, Buck,” you state angrily, glaring at the two of them.

They were so wrapped in up asserting their dominance, neither of them heard you come through the door. Your arms are folded across your chest angrily and both of them look at you in surprise.

“I should go,” Bucky states, crossing the room towards you.

“Yea,” your answer is sharp. “We’ll discuss this later.”

He gives a curt nod, already hearing your voice yelling at him in the back of his mind.

You and your overprotective big brother bull shit.

You’ve used the phrase once or twice with him before.

Your gaze follows Bucky as he exits your apartment.

The tension in the room is heavier than it’s ever been.

No doubt because of the conversation with Barnes. He hadn’t let him see it, but his words had affected Drysdale. Your eyes drift back to Ransom and he can see a softness there – you aren’t angry with him.

There’s a touch of sadness in your eyes and his brow furrows, “He’s right, isn’t he?”

“What?” confusion apparent on your face.

“You see him,” Ransom’s tone turns hard – cold. “When you look at me – don’t you?”

Your shoulders drop – voice quiet, “Don’t.” There’s a pause as he glares at you, your eyes pleading with him to stop. “Please – don’t do this.”

“You were in love with him,” he begins angrily. “So, it’s nothing about me. Everything you’ve done for me is because of his face. Because he was a better man than I’ll ever be – right?”

You fight back the tears as you raise your voice, “Stop!” You take a forceful step towards him. “You’re right, I did see him when I first met you, and yea, just looking at you was the hardest thing I’d ever done.” Ransom watches you carefully, determined to know the truth. “Part of me hated your face, because he fucking left.”

“Why?” Ransom questions, and you start to shake your head. He watches you bite the inside of your lip. “Why would he leave – abandon you?” He knows that word that will set you off.

You glance over at the picture of you and Steve on your shelf, “He knew I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have Sam – Buck.” The words angry as you swallow the lump in your throat. “So, he didn’t abandon me. Or us, because he knew the three of us would have each other. I guess that’s what made it okay in his mind.”

“That’s fucked up,” Ransom says quietly. “If he loved you –”

“She had his heart,” you reply sincerely. “I could never compete with that.” You glance back to the man in front of you. “So no – I don’t see him. I haven’t for a while, Ransom.” Your voice barely above a whisper as you admit it. “I only see you.”

His breathing falters at your statement and he reaches to turn off the recording app on his cellphone before he sits back down on the sofa. You move slowly over, glancing at the coffee table where the notebook is. Reaching for it, you half-expect him to stop you, but he doesn’t. You begin to read over some of the messily jotted down lines.

Steve Rogers believed in doing what was right, regardless of the consequences.

A true hero (more than once) when the country needed it the most.

Rogers was a friend to everyone and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for a friend.

He was loved twice by women (not only beautiful, but smart and strong) with such passion – ferocity – most people are lucky to experience that kind of love just once in their lifetime.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you read the last lines and Ransom speaks quietly, “Are you still in love with him?”

You glance at him thoughtfully for a moment, “No, but there is a part of me that will always care for him.” There’s a hint of disappointment in his eyes and you change the subject. “Why did you track me down?” Hearing Bucky’s question earlier had brought it back to your mind. “Because I know it wasn’t easy – and it wasn’t over a wallet.”

“I don’t know,” he flicks his eyes up at you, seeing the expectant look on your face. “Maybe it was the fact you were just so – real. I mean – aside from the fact you were lying.” You can’t help but smirk as he continues. “Even as Natalie, you weren’t fake with me. I’d never experienced that before.”

There’s a warm smile on your face as you lay the notebook back on the coffee table, “Well, when you finish this book, maybe you should get out more.”

“Funny you mention that,” Ransom stands as you start toward the kitchen. “I have an idea for another book I want to run by you.”

You turn around curiously, “Run by me – why?”

“Well, Granddad is known for his murder mysteries,” Ransom begins, eyeing you closely for your reaction. “I thought I might give it a shot, maybe put a different spin on it. Instead of far-fetched ideas, going more of a ‘based on actual events’ route.” Your mouth begins to open slightly as you see the grin forming on his face. “Granddad’s leading characters were always men, so I’m thinking for my leading character a female secret agent perhaps.”

“Me?” the look of shock on your face is hilarious.

“Well,” Ransom smirks. “She would have to be smart. Funny. Attractive is a given.” You fold your arms across your chest as he takes a few steps closer to where you stand. “Intimidating. Definitely a bad ass.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

His face lights up, “All the missions you’ve been on, all the secrets S.H.I.E.L.D.’s kept, I might could shadow you on future ops.”

“Absolutely not.”

Ransom’s face instantly falls, and he looks similar to a sad golden retriever.

“If you want to stay in New York – stay.” you remark, watching him carefully. “But you’re not writing a book about me.”

There’s a smug look on his face as he responds, “It’s not about you – it’s about Natalie.” You narrow your eyes at the man, and he holds his hands up defensively, “Okay – fine.” He turns around and walks back over to the coffee table and begins to gather his things.

You watch him for a moment, remembering he’s going back to his hotel, probably to get ready for his date with random lobby girl. The feeling you’re having makes you want to scream into the nearest throw pillow.

What – why?

Are you seriously jealous right now?

You can feel the heat starting at the base of your neck and you take a deep breath before speaking, “Hey – do you wanna stay?” He stops packing his bag to glance up at you, seeing something unusual on your features – trepidation. “We could order in – watch a movie.”

He gives you a genuine smile, “Sure.”

There is nothing he wants more than to spend the evening with you, eating take-out and watching old movies, because you see him and not many people do.

But who in their right mind leaves a beautiful blonde waiting in a hotel lobby across town for a date, without so much as a call or a text to let her know he can’t make it?

He does.

Because after all –

Ransom Drysdale’s an asshole.

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#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #knives out #knives out fanfic #knives out fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #fanfic #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction

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transhawks · 4 years

Text

Hawks is the 264 Narrator

Just combining all the the things my anons, and Khattikeri and Shoutosm told me in an easy to read format, and giving some thoughts. The last few panels of the chapter, with text over Dabi, are in fact Hawks’s inner thoughts and not Dabi’s.

Basically, the text is translatable to “Twice, you’re not a bad person. The bad guys are the scumbag heroes.”

A strange thing for Hawks to think, right?

The reasons he says notwithstanding, why there’s a reason he said that and not Dabi:

1. Dabi’s negative verbs are not “Nai”, but “Nee”.

The words nee ねぇ or nee ねー are colloquial variants of nai ない. That is: nai pronounced wrong. These colloquialisms are often used by more gang-looking characters. Certainly not what the more fine characters would use. x

Dabi has used ‘nee’ apparently in the past, and Nai is seen as more ‘polite’.

2. Hawks is more likely to use omae as a you pronoun than Dabi, who would go with the less respectful ‘temee’ or ‘kisama’ you hear so often in anime. At the same time, he used ‘Anata’ to Twice directly, so we don’t know for certain that either of them would use Omae. So this is a shaky point.

3. While the phrasing is similar, the word ‘trash’ (scum) is different to the word Dabi used many chapters ago. Dabi uses the word trash often, but it apparently always ‘ゴミ’ (gomi) and not the 'クズ (kuzu) shown in this monologue. The anons explained the difference as gomi just being trash, while kuzu is more like the ‘waste made from something’. Dabi’s word choice is finite; the subject has always been trash, there’s never been any worth.

However, because I wanted to explore that difference, I googled the romaji and looked up Gomi and Kuzu, which reiterated that difference, but also provided something about the word used here:

• (kuzu) (historical hiragana くづ)

scrap, waste, bit

human trash

Apparently kuzu is often use in a phrase that translates to ‘dregs of society’.

It’s fascinating the speaker uses this on Heroes, seen as the pinnacle of society. It’s Twice’s ‘bad luck’, as Hawks calls it, that has turned him into a villain. Hawks gives us probably one of the first glimpses of rehabilitation in BNHA - I can’t recall any other heroes talk about rehabilitating villains in this manga. And yet, if this is his inner thoughts, seeing Twice refuse to comply and give his life for the League no matter how much Keigo says he doesn’t want to fight him, it’s such a false... offer.

Because people like Twice, in the society Keigo wants to rehabilitate him to, are the kuzu of society. And yet the mystery narrator says, right after Hawks tells Twice he is a good person - that Twice isn’t a bad person, but it’s heroes who are the ‘dregs’.

I don’t think this is Dabi. I think this is Hawks having an internal war with himself.

Jin clearly says, “And you’re a hero?” to him - and Hawks has to reconcile that he is the ‘scum’ here because he believes Jin isn’t.

Keigo’s facial expression begin to slip into grief as he leaves the shadows. The shadows obscure his facial expression, but as we see start to see flashbacks of his relationship with Jin, his face is revealed to us. It’s light again. His face right before we see Dabi walking? Colored in grey. He’s conflicted - and that’s why his inner thoughts are contrasting with what he’s doing.

#hawks #bnha 264 #bnha spoilers #jin bubaigawara

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addressingsophism · 3 years

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More On “Broken People”

Trigger Warning: Discussion of terminology used to justify dehumanizing and demoralizing people.

Addressing the “broken people” myth again. Please be aware that while this (”broken x” phrase) is sometimes used by people to describe abusive relationships, I am tackling the common use of the term when it’s used to describe unideal relationships; specifically how the term “broken” is used to dehumanize, distance and demoralize someone that isn’t meeting the expectations of at least one party in a relationship.

There is no such thing as broken people, broken men, broken women, broken children or broken teens.

There are people that are abusive, and there are people that do not meet our expectations, and there are people that make non-critical mistakes, but these behaviors should not all be equated, and nor should people be dehumanized, especially in cases of someone believing they have “fallen short” of expectations.

These concepts however can be broken:

- Expectations - Trust - Boundaries - Reasoning - Property - Bodies - Understanding - Grasp of consequences

The problem is that when people often say things like “we aren’t therapy for fixing broken people”, what they’re often really saying is “I don’t believe relationships are about being there for all people equally; I believe if people get emotional or want to talk about their problems or concerns they have about their future or the future of the world they should talk to someone else”.

While it is true that in serious traumatic cases it isn’t fair for people to use their loved ones as therapists (though discussion isn’t unreasonable if they’re directly involved; should still be tempered), it isn’t reasonable to -only- value people as “whole, valid and complete” when they brighten your day or are of current use to you.

When people devalue others (instead of devaluing the relationship) simply because they have (non-criminal, non-critical) struggles, it’s a narcissistic move, not a self-protective move. It’s a combination of neglect, abuse, DARVO and gaslighting in their purest forms.

It’s rage and shaming being used to subvert guilt when people choose to abandon others because they have an irrational fear of listening to people or just existing near targets of abuse (out of an irrational fear that abuse is attracted to them and will spread like a contagion, or because of an irrational belief in Social Dominance Orientation where victim blaming is key feature used to justify neglect).

People are not “broken” for being poor, backed into a corner, frustrated, protesting, or even emotionally stressed.

They’re still equally valid and whole human beings.

If people are experiencing objective, demonstrable disrespect along with violations of boundaries and trust, then the other person in the relationship and reasoning is broken, their understanding is broken, their grasp of understanding is broken and trust with them is broken.

This relationship broken, but this doesn’t dehumanize the person.

But just to reiterate, this isn’t how I often see phrases with “broken X” stories tied to social shaming used.

While such phrases have been used by people venting about domestic abuse situations, it appears that more often than not it’s used in circumstances where people want to drop others because of a lack of economic benefit, social benefit, or ease of living because some people have experienced more trauma, obstruction or conflict than others.

It’s used when people are seen as a burden because they tire out the narcissistic supply of person not ready to be in a mature, support relationship.

Make no mistake, if shared human-rights boundaries are being violated and trust is broken, it makes sense to end that relationship. But if someone is having a bad day and just wishes to express how uncontent they are with some things, personal things and even critical things, without attempting to engage in controlling, caging, trauma-transferring or trauma bonding, it’s part of a healthy relationship to validate each other, talk about shared human rights and boundaries, and discuss concerns and doubt, etc.

This is true even in cases of relationships with people experiencing mental health or other serious, critical concerns.

It is never wise however to start down the path of dehumanizing humans in general, and it’s less wise to add demoralization and dismissiveness to the already cold world simply to live out some utopian fantasy where we are the heroes and everyone else is the villain, victim or audience.

It can be very easy to fall victim to the social conscience (doxa) and adopt views and terminology that allow us to express feelings of doubt and frustration with others while also adopting terminology that makes us feel as if we are the arbiters of expectations, demands and other people’s measure of humanity and wholeness.

But we’re not in charge of ascribing humanity and inhumanity to others, even if frustrations and conflicting view pile up and/or boil over.

Part of successful social relationships is about not seeing people as tools or burdens, but to see them as extensions of humanity, just as we are, with full right to dignity and respect, and not to be labeled as invalid or broken when people undergo normal social, personal, psychological and biological cycles of reaching limits.

Victim blaming and dehumanizing people is the escapist, selfish easy way out.

Always remember you can end a relationship without dehumanizing the other party or parties.

This is how we build a better humanity

#psychology #sociology #relationships #broken people #broken men #broken women #support #emotional support #trauma #bonding #freedom

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kileyrose-2003 · 4 years

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Rose the Hat x Teen! Daughter Reader

A/N: @merci-bitch Hi love! This is Jen's request. I hope she/you enjoy it. I'm sorry it took so long to write but I wrote way more than I thought I was going to end up with and I preferred everyone had quality over just another fic to look at. This gets really angsty and sad at times, way more than I planned so hope that's okay.

I highly recommend reading this one in one sitting because if you read part 2 in broken pieces, it might get a little confusing with how trippy it is at one point. Ik you're probably like, trippy? Wtf? This is a hurt/comfort fic with a little angst. It'll make sense one you read it. Trust me. It goes with the backstory/plot. Anyways, I hope all is well with everyone and love you guys :) I have 2 other imagines I'm still working on that should be up soon hopefully.

Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, child death, violence, violence against children

Pt. 1

Rose the Hat could say she was a lot of things in the 700 years she had been alive but for most of that time, a mother was not one of them.

She tried to be. She really did. The first time she felt a life blooming inside her was nearly two years before she was turned way back in the early 14th century when she was still known by her rube name Rose O'Hara.

Her life was a mystery to everyone including herself. Though her relationship with her mother was short lived, Rose could distinctly remember the woman got around.

Rose got around as well. She didn't know who the child's father was when she found out she was pregnant but nevertheless, she loved the baby. She savoured each kick to felt to her hand she felt as she slept in her cold and torrid room above the local pub. The place permeated with alcohol and foreign tobacco but Rose didn't mind. She had a feeling she wasn't exactly going to be there much longer anyway. Something good was going to come her way in the future and she hoped her baby was going to be a part of it but that wasn't meant to be.

It was a pleasant pregnancy but the labor did not go smooth. There was blood. Too much to mean any good.

She felt the loss of life before she was even told by one of the women she shared her room with that "the lord works in mysterious ways." It would of been a girl, probably special like her too but that chance she had at normality or a chance to feel not as lonely was gone. Rose wasn't the same after that. She became more bitter, more cynical until Grampa Flick found her that day fateful in the streets of some market place that had long since changed names and purpose.

Rose fit in well with The True Knot and it didn't take her long to rise through the rank. She felt a sense of normality and complete for the first time in a while. All the previous pain she felt had been buried and she felt like she could breathe again.

Then she met Crow. Someone who she loved all the more for how special he was. When he first brought up the idea of children to her she was hesitant. The whole knot had been hesitant.

It was possible Grampa Flick had told them, but not likely they'd be able to have a child. They both tried for over 100 years. The two came close on one occasion to almost having the child make it but as expected, they failed.

It was a never ending cycle of joy turned to pain every time they tried again from the first kick to the question Rose seemed to always have on what would of been.

Crow was near at his wits end from the repeated pains of mourning when in the very early 2000s, the pregnancy test Rose always seemed to have in her trailer read pink.

It was not a surprise, as they had no problem making children, it was just the delivery that was the hard part. For the time in a while, Rose felt a strand of hope. Something about this time felt right to her. This one was powerful and horribly strong though Crow refused to get his hopes up.

"If it doesn't work this time," Crow started carefully as he laid next to her in bed one night holding them close to his body. "This is our last time trying."

Rose felt a strain of bitterness inside her. "The fuck did you just say?" She reiterated. "This is the last time, Rosie." She made a face and narrowed her eyes. "Did I say this is our last time trying?"

"For fuck sakes Rosie, we can't keep doing this to ourselves. This pain of trying and trying and no matter what getting the same end result. I'm telling you, don't get too hopeful yet. You know how it ends every single time. Why do you keep-"

"The question should be why do you keep doing it? I would of been perfectly fine to not have another. You're the one who said you wanted to have-"

"And you were the one who agreed and jumped on board right away." Rose rolled her eyes and elbowed him. "Oww!"

"You're acting like a child! Like you said before, don't get your hopes up. I'm telling you. Something great is coming this time. I can feel it." Crow sighed and shook. "If you say so, Rosie.." He was still skeptical though for the remaining months, cherishing every kick and little burst of energy he felt radiating off of Rose until she proved herself right.

The labor had been slow and painful this time but unlike all the other times, she didn't feel herself trying to pry back at the energy fading from her so fastly. The energy remained strong and she could feel her power booming. She had high hopes this one was going to be the one.

The grounds around the campsite they were staying at shook as she dealt with the hard task of delivering this time around. Once it ended there was dead silence for a moment and earth went back to its natural state.

In the midst of her pain, the sound of a cry in the distance rung in her ear and tears started flowing down her cheeks. "Would it of been a daughter or a son?" She rasped, staring up at the ceiling and still out of it. Then the more she listened she realized it wasn't Crow crying this time. It sounded faint, like a baby.

She turned her gaze to the foot of her bed and bit down on her lip as she seen Crow softly weeping as he cradled a pink bundle close to his chest. "Our blessed angel..it's a girl. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a good set of lungs."

Rose let out a sob. Nearly 150 years of taking blows back to back and they finally had the living child they always wanted. She held her arms out. "Let me see her." Crow handed you over to Rose being so gentle it was as if he was afraid he would break you.

Rose moved you close to her chest, making sure you got skin to skin contact with her. "Well, hi there angel. I'm your mommy." You let out a cry and Rose began to nurse you. "Shhh..it's okay my darling. Mommy and daddy's got you."

Your fussing began to subside and you curled your little body up into Rose's chest. Crow smiled with tears in his eyes and slipped next to Rose in her bed, running his one finger up and down your back.

You were so precious to them. "What are we naming her?" Rose thought about it for a moment and kissed the top of your head. "What about, Y/n?"

"Y/n..I like it. It suits her." Rose grinned and caressed your cheeks. "Welcome to the family, my Y/n.."

It took a while for The True Knot to get used to having a child around but once they did, they enjoyed you and you loved them in return.

It didn't take long for any of them to realize you were special like them. When you were happy, radios and tvs would turn on by themselves. Playing whatever song you liked that day and when you were upset about, rare but it did happen, sometimes light bulbs would blow out if your cries worsened and as you grew older it got stronger.

By the time you were 4, you were already having premonitions of things to come in the future and The Knot used it to their advantage. It was something the whole family thought Rose would be jealous of but she loved you all the the more for it.

She made sure you never wanted for anything growing up. Want that sundress with the ombre pattern? Done. You wanted a hug? She'd give you more than you even asked for throughout the course of the day. "Mama will fix it," Was a recurring phrase she often repeated to you and you believed it. You liked being around your mom she made you feel safe. Rose was safe.

Rose didn't like sharing you with the rest of your family, including your father, for that reason. It wasn't that she was trying to hide you from them. It was just that your bond was so strong and Rose was afraid of them weakening it. It caused more arguments with Crow than you could count on your fingers and eventually Rose caved in on letting him see you but she didn't care.

While you and your dad were pretty close wherever Rose went, she always made sure you were with her. Not that you minded anyways. The two of you were inseparable, especially when you hit the beginnings of your teen years.

Your family made it a point to make sure that you never seen or interacted with any of the kids they killed but you knew what they were doing anyways. The smell of iron and bloodshed lingered on them everytime they got close to you and the stench was too strong to mean any good.

You knew they'd never hurt you though but it didn't mean you approved. The night before they captured their food you noticed how your mom would hold your hand a little longer than normal when you'd sit next to each other at the nightly campfire or how your dad would hug you tight compared to the gentle embrace he normally gave you. You were the exception and it shone through.

Pt. 2

"...Y/n..Y/n!" You jumped up and let out a cough, half sitting up in bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." You felt part of the mattress sink down and you looked at your mom. "No, it's alright. You didn't mean too," You sniffled. "Ugh, damn flu." Your mom ran a hand threw your hair and kissed the top of your sweaty forehead. "How are you feeling?

"Miserable." You looked out the window and seen nothing but darkness. "Where are we?" You asked. "Just outside Bankerton, Iowa. You slept through the whole ride and pit stop."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Rose frowned. "Don't be fresh." You laid your head back against and waved your hand dismissively in the air. "Where outside Bankerton though?"

"Nowhere you have to worry about. Either way you won't be seeing or hearing it." She took hold of one of your hands and kissed the tops of your knuckles.

Crow stepped out from the cockpit of Rose's RV sharpening a knife. "Rosie, you ready to go?" She nodded and caressed your cheeks. "Stay put and rest please?" You nodded and rolled onto your side. "Love you mama," You muttered into the pillow. "Love you too, sweetie." You could hear the sound of footsteps followed by the slam of her trailer door.

...

You tried to ignore the screams but they were unavoidable. Your hands gripped at the comforter as each word came rolling off whatever child it was that they captured.

"Number 19!" You could hear the smack of the glove through the thin walls. "Kid, you were good." You cringed and squeezed your eyes shut. "No! No please don't-" Tears started flowing down your cheeks. "I won't tell! I won't tell! Please!"

You buried your head underneath your pillow despite the fever baking off of you and tried to ignore the pleas for mercy and final came that scream. That god awful scream you knew too well.

"Please god, make it stop and make it quick," You whispered aloud. You could hear the husky barks of the baseball boy's screams followed by the pouring out of steam. "That poor boy." You found him in the distance and reached out with your shine.

(Can you hear me?)

Nothing. You gave it a shot again.

(Hello?)

This time you were greeted by a sharp, burning pain in your abdomen and you screeched. "Oh fuck! Fuck!" The bohemian-chic setting of Rose's setting began to fade around you and you found yourself standing in the middle of a picnic ground.

The leaves around you were turning and the weather felt beautiful but you had a feeling you weren't there for a beautiful day. You noticed Barry standing next to you and you tried to reach out to him to see if he would react but you got no response.

'What the fuck is going on?' You thought to yourself. You noticed a stuffed bunny similar to the one you had as a child sitting on a picnic table with a needle sticking out of it. "Parlor tricks! It's all a fucking parlor trick!"

(Save yourself while you still have the chance.)

BANG!

You keeled over and gasped as you felt your insides burning. In the far distance you could hear your mother's voice. 'No, get out of there! Get out of there.'

Despite the pain you glanced around and scanned the people around you. 'Dad. Where the hell is my dad?'

BANG!

You whimpered and screamed. Each shot feeling like a stab at your heart. You could feel each of them slipping from your mental grasp and you let out a sob.

(MOM! MOM!)

Nothing.

(Please hear me! Please hear me.)

Still nothing. "Make it stop! Make it stop! Please, how do I make it stop?" You begged, desperate to prevent any of this.

(Leave the looker alone.)

Eventually the vision faded from your mind and when you eventually woke up you were a hysterical mess, refusing any comfort from your aunts or uncles. At first they figured you'd eventually calm down and so they kept at making attempts at trying to hold your hands or run a hand through your hair that way they could get on the road as soon as your parents finished shovel duty but you wouldn't stop. It wasn't until you started sputtering out fragments about an ambush and a looker that they began to listen. Fear unlocked an unnoble reserve across their faces and they scrambled for help.

Rose sent Crow over to you try and knock some sense into you. "What did you see?" Your father yelled over your screams as he attempted to try and pull you into a hug, his bloodied hands and arms staining your skin. "Just get..away!" You knew your mother wasn't there but you couldn't remember if your father was.

That sinking feeling settled deep inside you and you couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. You couldn't-no you wouldn't be able to handle losing either or both of your parents.

"If you think I'm just going to let you be alone while you're like this, you're out of your damn mind." You attempted to push him away but he was strong. You wanted your mom. You couldn't look at him.

"Just relax. I'm right here, baby. Daddy's right here." You let out a wail and buried your head in chest, knowing you weren't going to be getting out of this.

"I-i can't-I want mom!" He shushed you and gently rubbed shapes on your back. "I know..I know but I'm not going anywhere. It's okay." You cried into him, gripping tightly to the back of his shirt.

...

When you woke up in bed the next morning, the space that Crow occupied was empty but you weren't alone. Your mother stood in your kitchenette, rummaging through your cabinets.

You sat up and groggily rubbed your eyes. You noticed your arms weren't stained from the blood of whatever child it was that they took and you wondered how long she had been in your trailer before you woke up. "What are you looking for?"

"Your tea. Did I not teach you anything about self comfort when you were little?" Her tone was teasing and you found yourself hinting at a smile. "Other cabinet, bottom left hand side."

Rose shut the cupboard she had opened and grinned at the sight of neatly stacked tea boxes. "Ah! So nice to see someone else around here with such refinement. Chamomile or peppermint?"

"Peppermint, please." You watched as she poured the clearly hot water into a tea cup. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to make sure you were properly taken care of. Does it matter though, my sweet?" You decided it didn't and you shook your head.

Rose walked over with your cup of tea and sat down across from you, carefully handing over the scalding beverage. You set it down on your window sill and your eyes interlocked with your mother's. Despite taking steam last night, she looked barely any younger to you.

She held her mug up to lips and took a sip as if it was a drink she desperately longed for. "Care to tell me what happened night?" The question was met with silence and Rose smiled. "Okay, let me rephrase that. What did you see last night?"

"I'm not talking about this with you." Your mom laughed. "Oh, sweetie. You know well enough that unlike your father, I don't give choices on matters like this."

You glanced around your trailer. "Where is he anyways?" You asked softly. "Out getting Grampa whatever fruit he asked for this morning. Why?"

"Good. Because if we're talking about this, I don't want him to be around because I can't even look him in the eye as it is right now." Rose raised a brow and stood up off the mattress to lock the door. "That bad?"

"Yeah.." As you explained the whole thing to Rose, she held your hand gently in her own. Occasionally planting gentle kisses on your knuckles as you got emotional at times.

"Was he there? Your father?" She squeezed your hand tightly. "I don't know. I don't remember seeing him but I remember feeling him somewhere and he was in pain. You were in pain too but you were back at home."

"And where were you?" You paused for a moment. "With the rest of the family. Dad wanted me to go with him but you didn't..I ended up going anyways. It felt like someone tore my heart out and ripped it into pieces right infront of me."

"Yeah, I'd imagine." Her response was short and snippy almost as if she was being defensive. "The thought of losing either of you, let alone the rest of our family-" A lump grew in your throat and you couldn't say anymore.

Rose sighed and ran a hand through your hair. You tried looking inside her mind but it was completely blank. "...a long time ago, the person who turned me taught me something smart. The past, that's completely set in stone but the future: that's in pencil."

"Mom, I'm telling you. There's no changing this. If you go after this looker, Uncle Doug, Aunt Sarey, all of them. They're going to die." You insisted.

"You also had a vision of us murdering Ariel from The Little Mermaid when you were six." You could tell your mom was trying to comfort you but you wanted none of it. You had to stop her. "And not even a week later, the little girl you took was wearing an Ariel bracelet. Mama, I've never been wrong on this stuff."

"I know-"

"Bad things are going to happen if-"

"I know! I know but she still has time to ripen. Things might change by then. You might be turned by then." 'I won't let that happen though,' You thought to yourself. You might not have control over this situation but you had control over that. You'd let them all murder you before them turn you.

"You're not that far away from 18. I've got to take care of the family, Y/n. I need to take care of you. I lost your other siblings and I am not losing you. Your father and I wouldn't be able to handle it. Hell, I'd be lying if I said your father wasn't hurt last night when you tried to turn him away."

Confusion mixed with pain as you felt your heart shatter into pieces. Your mother had told you that you were a miracle but never did you think of why you were a miracle to them. "Mama-"

"I will say no more." You couldn't tell if she was trying to protect you or her from more heart break. You figured the chances were it was probably for the both of you. "Besides, when have I ever let you or any of the family down?" You didn't even have to think about the answer to the question. "Never."

"And why is that?" She hummed. "Because mama fixes everything." Your voices blended together and Rose smiled. "See? I've always kept everything under control." You felt a little bit better but still couldn't shake that dark feeling away.

Rose pressed a kiss against your forehead. "Try not to worry about it too much, darling." You nodded and took a sip of your cooled tea.

You could hear the sound of crunching leaves in distance and identified it silently as the sound of the Jeep. "I should apologize."

"To who?"

"Dad. I didn't mean to push him away. I just-" Rose shushed you. "I know." She stood up from your bed and held a hand out towards you. "Come on. I'll take you to see him. That way it's a little less awkward."

"Thanks," You hummed softly and let Rose guide you towards the front door. "Mama?" She turned to look at you as she placed her hand on the doorknob. "Yes, my sweet?"

"I love you.." You didn't have to look at your mom to know she was smiling. "I love you too, angel.."

Pt. 3

Not long after that you did forget about the whole thing for a while but the premonition never slipped from your mind. You were always on alert subconsciously and silently praying whoever this looker was, that their shine would just fade and they wouldn't matter anymore but even though no one was talking about, you could also tell your family was suffering.

While some part of you felt that maybe, just maybe, they deserved it for all the pain they had caused to all those kids and their parents, they were still your family and it didn't mean you loved them any less. You just didn't like what they did.

On that cool, October night you sat next to Snakebite Andi in a lounge with your hands interlaced as you both read a copy of 'The Dark Tower' infront of her RV. It was a reclusive spot away from the rest of the family and it was one of your favorite places to be besides Rose's trailer. Like Rose, Andi was a safe person to you and it helped that you both were close in age. You both understood each other and she enjoyed your company and you enjoyed her's.

"You know," Andi started as finished the fifth chapter. "If your dad had more personality, I could say he almost reminds me of Randall Flagg." You let out a chuckle and flipped the page with your unoccupied hand. "Doesn't help that he wears the cowboy boots and jeans too," You smiled. "He's really not a dry person. It's just that he's very straight forward with somethings."

"That's a word for it." You lowered the book and scowled slightly. "Sorry. It's not personal. It's just-" You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and gave a sympathetic smile. "I know." She lowered her book as well and you both stared up at the dark night sky. "Your mom tell you what happened to me?"

"Bits and pieces." You paused for a moment. "It's not your fault, you know? If I was in your position, I would of done the same thing." Andi sighed and rubbed her face. "Yeah, I know. It's just hard, you know."

"I'd imagine." Andi cracked a hint of a smile. "Have you seen Rose today?" You shook your head. "No, actually. She told me this morning she had to go grocery shopping but I haven't seen her since. She should be back by now." You sat up. "That's weird..anyways, I had something to ask her."

"You want me to see if she's back?" Andi nodded. "If you don't mind." You waved to her. "Not at all. I'll be back." She returned the gesture and brought the book back up to her face. "I'll see you."

You walked slightly up hill to your mother's RV and carefully knocked on the door. You knew she had to be back. You seen the Jeep parked up hill. "Mama?" Your father opened the door. Normally he was all smiles and amicable but not now. He looked frustrated. "Sweetie, now is not a good time."

"Why? What's wrong?" You asked quietly. "Your mother is a little besides-"

"Crow, who's at the door and don't even think about lying to me!" He breathed inwardly and looked at Rose. "Y/n, dear."

"Let her in. I'd love to get her opinion on the subject." He grimaced and opened the door a little more that way you could step inside. "Sure." Your eyes interlocked with his as you took your shoes off at the door. "Hi mama."

"Hi baby." Rose turned her gaze to Crow. "You can leave now." You could feel him biting back a snide remark and you had to try your hardest not laugh. "Night, Rosie."

"Night." Crow shut the door behind him and your mom paced back and forth for a minute. "You okay?" You asked. "Remember back in Iowa, when you had the flu?"

"Yeah." You felt the pit in your stomach growing. "The looker I told you I seen, she found me again." You furrowed your brows.

"Why?" You asked. "I don't know and I don't care but I want her and your father is arguing with me about having her and I want her." Her eyes looked insane and you had to swalow your fear. The memory of that awful vison you had coming back over.

"S-she's that big of a steamhead?" Rose scoffed and smirked impishly. "Oh honey, she's huge. She's the epitome of the Great White Whale." You shifted uncomfortably and hoped she didn't notice it. "I fail to see why your father can't recognize that."

"I mean, even if none of us agree you're going to do what you want anyways." The words were innocent on the surface but the tonality of your words was snippy and fresh.

Your eyes mixed with her's and before you had the chance to block her from your mind, Rose already seen what laid underneath the surface. "You little bitch. You agree with him."

"I-it's not that it's just- Mom, I've never been wrong." Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Are we seriously going back to this again?"

"Mom, what do you want me to do?! Let you go into this thing blind and let you get everyone killed because of one girl?" You screamed.

"Don't you dare back talk to me. Again, you could be wrong. You're just a fucking child and I won't let you control me." There were two ways you could respond to her words. Either use the option that would let her be just a little pissed and life would get back to normal, or B, to push.

"I'm almost eighteen years old! You're not going to have control over me much longer. It's overbearing and if the other's had any balls, they would tell you they feel the same way, including dad."

"If I were you, I'd watch your words dear. They might come back to bite you. Tell me dearest, how am I overbearing?" Despite Rose's anger she was smiling at you.

"You kept me from my own father for over 3 years." You noticed Rose's hands balling up into fist. "I have my reasons for what I do and the sooner you come to understand that, the better. Do you know how long it's been since our family has been able to birth children into it?"

She walked towards you and caressed your cheek. You could feel her anger radiating off of her so much you almost wanted to cry at the near sight of her. "You're special honey. Maybe even more special than I am but that will remain in between the two of us. That's why when we get the lookers steam, I want to turn you."

"I don't want to be-"

"And was I asking for your opinion? No. I didn't ask for yours and I certainly did ask for your fucking father's either." She picked up a vase and threw it unceremoniously against the wall. The shards glistening all over the wooden floor of her trailer and you found yourself relating to it's broken state.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing and acting like this? I know you're stressed out but I don't want to-"

"Because I can't lose you, god damn it!!" You were no stranger to your mom's yelling but her words made you feel sick to your stomach. "What?" You asked. "For gods sakes, Y/n. You're a smart girl. Use your brain." Her voice was venomous and bitter. "Everything I do is for you and this family! Not for me! For everyone else's benefit. I want you to have everything I do and be able to live just as long, if not longer than I do and yet here you are acting like a selfish little bitch! You don't want to be fucking turned! Forget going down in the blaze of fire, think of what you would do your family!"

"Mom, I'm not trying to be selfish. I'm worried about you. I don't want you to-"

"Don't talk back to me! I don't want to hear any of your bullshit excuses! You don't know how lucky you are, Y/n! You wouldn't believe how many miscarriages and stillbirths I had until you came around."

"I know, mama. I appreciate you and lo-"

"Then stop worrying about me so much and let me do what I have to do to get us what we need." Tears welled up in your eyes and you nodded. "Y-yes mama."

Rose shook her head and ran her fingers through your hair. "What a waste of life you are." Her words felt like a knife and you finally hit your breaking point mentally and physically. Tears started streaming down your face and it wasn't until Rose seen you crying, she realized what she had.

"Y/n..Y/n, baby! I-" You shook your head. "No, you did. You meant every word of what you just said to me," You snapped. "Y/n, I just got so angry. I really didn't mean it." You refused to meet her eyes and Rose attempted to pull you into a hug. "Sweetie-"

"Just me alone. I don't want to talk to you right now!" You ran out of her trailer. "Y/n!" Rose attempted to grab your wrist. "Don't you run from me Y/n."

"Just get away!" You shoved her the opposite direction and panic began to bubble up inside her as she watched you run into the woods. "Y/n! Y/n!"

Andi tried running after you. She grabbed your wrist and you pushed her away. "Don't you fucking touch me! Any of you!"

Crow stepped out of his trailer, hearing the commotion. "What the hell just happened?" He shouted over to Rose.

She seen red and started throwing her antique candle holders all over the place. "Fucking bullshit! I refuse to deal with this.." She kept going on and Crow tried to grab her hands. "Rosie-"

"Just step away from, Crow! You're turning her against me. This is all your fault!" She shouted then started crying. "My fault? How the hell is it-" His infrequent temper started to shine through and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Rose explained the whole thing from start to finish, every other word coming out of her mouth being foreign Irish curses.

"Rosie, what did you think was going to happen? For me to say your remark to her was hurtful is an understatement. I get it. You're still in pain but that's been over. What the hell were you thinking?!" Crow spat, unusually harsh in his tone. "I-i don't know. Look- I didn't think she was going to run."

"Yeah well, she did and I can't exactly say that I blame her." Rose paused at his snarkiness. "What do I do now?" Crow covered his face with his hands. "Apologizing would probably be the right thing, Rosie."

"I can't go up there and talk to her."

"Why not?"

"Because, she's not going to want to see me. Not after what I said. Why can't you go talk to her?" Rose could hear the whining tone in her voice and she hated it. "Because I'm not the one who made her upset. Look, just be gentle. Let her get what's in her system out. It'll be fine."

"Okay." Rose let out a shakey breath and began her walk up hill. She didn't even know how she was even going to begin what she had to say. She heard sniffling in the distance and breathed inwardly. "Y/n?"

"I told you I don't want to talk to you. Go away!" Rose had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Y/n..Y/n, I'm sorry." She called out. "No you're not. You wouldn't of said what you did then."

"Well even if you don't want to talk, can you at least just show me where you are." Rose heard the crunching of leaves and you stepped out from behind one of the large trees. Minimal lightning shined on your face but she could see your mascara was running.

Rose pulled one of her cloth bracelets, a souvenir from one of her victims, of her wrist to clean your face up. "Sit down, please." Rose was surprised you obeyed and she knelt down across you. Tenderly wiping your makeup off your face. "Never can quite understand why you and Andi feel the need to wear this stuff. You both are young girls."

"Yeah." You let out a chuckle and your eyes locked for a minute. In that moment you both looked at each other something inside you clicked and you felt a pang of sadness.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

"I-i" You bit down on your lip,silently hating yourself for the words that were going to come next. "I'm sorry!" You let out a sob and held onto your mom tightly. "No, no. You have nothing to be sorry about. I just felt so angry and the words just spilled and I'm sorry. You're my world, my everything, and I'd never mean to hurt you the way I did." You sniffled and nodded your head feverishly. "I'm just so scared," You whispered so softly you didn't even know if she heard you at first.

"I know but I'm going to fix it because I always fix what's wrong, right?" Rose forced you to meet her eyes and you sniffled. "Mama always fixes everything."

"Yes, but-"

"But what?" She wiped a tear away from your eye. "You can't fix everything, mama." Rose sighed and you nuzzled close to her. "I'm going to try to though. I want a good life for you. That's all I ever wanted for you and our family. Just think of what this looker could bring!"

"But mama, people are going to get hurt. Good people! You, daddy-"

"Your father and I are strong."

"But you're not invincible."

When you looked into your mother's eyes they were full of mania and panic and it scared you. "Please, just this once, listen to me," You begged.

The look on Rose's face was unreadable and she pressed a kiss against your forehead. "I make no promises but for at least tonight, this will be the end of the discussion." You sighed some relieved and Rose smiled, placing her one sleeve under the bags of your eyes and wiped them. "God, your eyeliner is so smudged too."

You chuckled and rubbed your eyes. "That makes two of us then because so is yours." Rose actually chuckled and held her hands out to hold yours. For a moment you felt as if you actually understood her. "You're coming back to camp with me?"

You thought about the words of the baseball boy and you looked down at The True's campfire you seen in the distance and everything came together. You were like the fire burning below. Fast and passionate yet delicate and easy to put out. Destiny was destiny and if you were to go in the blaze of fire then so be it. You knew where you belonged and no matter what, that was with your family. "Yeah..I'll come."

"Good." Rose's smile on her face was bold and you couldn't help but felt a tinge of irony panging through you. Their only living child who came so close to life yet would lose it so within arms reach. While you fulfilled your destiny, they would live theirs. All those children they took from families who loved their child so similar to the way did, they would also lose their child and now that they knew what was supposed to go down like the other families, they also would have to live with it.

A cynical smile graced your beautiful face and you smiled. "Mama?"

"Yes, my sweet?" You pressed a kiss against her cheek. "I love you." Rose smiled and swung her hand back and forth as you walked back home together. "I love you too my blessed angel. I love you too.."

#the shining #doctor sleep #rose the hat #fanfiction #stephen king #imagine #dr sleep #crow daddy #the true knot #true knot #x reader #x daughter!reader

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altalksaboutstuff · 4 years

Text

My Top 5 Games of the Past Generation Youtube Script Plus Notes

This is, more or less, the script for My Top 5 Games of the Past Generation video that I just published on Youtube: With the Xbox One and Playstation Four about to head out of the door to make ways for the Xbox Series X and the Playstation 5 respectively to lead us into the next generation of consoles were only Nintendo has been sitting comfortably with the Switch, the Wii U has been long gone and Nintendo also recently announced the official end of the Nintendo 3DS line cutting all the ties to this last generation. With that almost everyone is now releasing their lists of the best games of the current generation, myself included, I couldn't help but notice a lot of same-soundy lists such as Game Informer's top 5 list. I myself have to disagree with these, not to say that any and/or all five of those games on Game Informer's Top 5 aren't good, important or worth playing just that I don't think they are the best representative of this generation in terms of impact and wide appeal, so much as had the most money backing them. That these games on the list are more the best representative of the biggest Triple A titles. The games that I had in mind are more impactful on how this generation swayed and set new standards. I want you to keep in mind that while I liked some of these games, these aren't my personal top 5 of the past generation either but I think closer to what best represents our closing era of gaming, when I say the “best games of the current generation.”

First off I'd like to make an honorable mention of PT. PT or playable trailer was supposed to be a demo for the new Silent Hill S game that unfortunately never came to be for the Playstation 4 from Konami. A joint venture between film director Guillermo del Toro and the famous creator of Metal Gear Solid, Hideo Kojima, this demo spooked the pants off of everyone and was probably the reason a lot of people decided to buy a Playstation 4. Unfortunately Konami let Hideo Kojima go under less than favorable conditions and the demo vanished with him in time. Since then the immersive, first person perspective horror game demo changed the landscape of what survival horror could be. We then saw Resident Evil VII by Capcom, the Park by Funcom, Layers of Fear by Aspyr and Death Standing by Hideo Kojima's new studio Kojima Productions that were all heavily influenced by PT (this point made more obvious for Hido Kojima's Death Stranding) and the future of Survial Horror / Suspense games seems to be headed there with upcoming games like Resident Evil VIII: The Village. The only reason this isn't officially on the list is because, well, it was sadly never a game but its influence was too important for me not to mention.

Number 5: Sonic Mania. Ok so Sonic Mania isn't anything new but it is very important in the sense that it is a major franchise, Sonic, by a well established publisher, Sega, and they had officially given the keys of Mobius to the fandom to make a new game and it was fantastic. While that's oversimplying things a bit errr a lot, since Sega just didn't come out of the blue offering that opportunity. Rather Sega saw a Sonic game pitched by Christian Whitehead, aka Taxman, who worked on porting previous ports of Sonic games to Mobile platforms. Why I think it is important is that this validating the bridge between fandom and passion projects in world where game hacks and fangames are traditionally shut down almost immediately after gaining the slightest attention. While Sonic Mania isn't a fangame, its roots were deep from the Romhack community. This represents cracking the door between what the fandom produces and what the corporate offices allow being available to consumers in a world were popular fangames and hacks result in cease and desist orders - which is why I think is very important to put Sonic Mania as the number 5 game of this console generation.

Number 4: Rocket League. As of today, Rocket League is a now free to play game for better or for worse. Rocket League is high-octane fun, blasting balls across various courts and fields such as basketball and football with fast automobiles but what it is most well known for is basically soccer with cars. Rocket League is a lot of fun to play and has a large audience of in the streaming and esports field which would be reason enough to put this game in a top 5 but what this game marks maybe even more importantly is cross console online play. While other games have and do continue to have online play across systems, back in March of 2016 Microsoft was very interested in allowing online play between Xbox One and other consoles them being extremely hopeful for Playstation 4 in particular, however Sony was holding out. Sony was hesitant, citing their emphasis on providing a certain quality online experience but finally came to the party and in 2019 you could finally play Rocket League online with all your friends whether it be on PC, Xbox One, Switch, or Playstation 4. Since then we have had other games slowly roll out this feature such as Wargroove and the trend seems to be expanding. I hope to see all games adopt this in the future and since Rocket League “birthed” this concept coming to the table for cross console online play for us all to enjoy, this is why I think Rocket League deserves the number 4 slot.

Number 3: Bloodborne/Dark Souls III. This past generation and hell even to some extent decade, spanning to the PS3/Xbox 360, has lead us to compare every challenging game that comes out to Dark Souls. Cuphead is the Dark Souls of run and gun shooters, Dead Cells is the Dark Souls of Metroidvanias, Celeste is the Dark Souls of platformers, etc. While the meme of “X is like the Dark Souls of” is hard to find a concrete start, according to Google Trends this first seemed to spike in April of 2015 around the release of Bloodborne, the PS4 game created by FromSoftware. While not technically a Dark Souls game, it was made by the same team and the game play and feel is very Dark Souls in the sense that I feel the phrase is used today, in contrast to the first two Dark Souls games. Then we can see that in/and around October 2017 the trend has risen to its peak a little after a year and a half of the release of Dark Souls III. While this justification may seem more flimsy and ultimately the Dark Souls brand was established in 2011, I do think Bloodborne/Dark Souls III is more in the zeitgeist, if you will, of the “X is like Dark Souls” comparison that has shaped the conversation of so many games today.

Number 2: Undertale. Undertale is perhaps the darling of this generation. A game chock full of charm with multiple ways to approach it. Will you save everyone, sacrifice everyone, or something in-between? This game does look next gen, current gen or even comparable to past gen games until you hit perhaps the SNES or even late NES. Maybe a number 2 spot is too high on list – this game didn't revolutionize the industry in ways that the other games on this list did nor was it the first anti-RPG of its kind, that would probably go to MOON, but Undertale just had such a powerful impact on gamers when it came out and became so unforgettable. I feel like Undertale will be a game that we remember for a long time and to not include it in this list because its an indie game would be a real tragedy which segways me to my number 1 game.

Number 1: Shovel Knight. Shovel Knight is the indie game that, I think, lead to the current boom of retro inspired indie games we have been enjoying. A love letter to the NES games of the past such as Castlevania, Mega Man and Ducktales to name a few. Shovel Knight wasn't the first retro inspired indie games but I feel like the attention to detail in trying to stay as true to what the hardware could run in terms of look, color, sound and pixel art with its overwhelming success showed that there was a market for these type of games. Its success kickstarter in 2013 also showed that Kickstarter could be used as a viable platform to create indie games for a wider audience without having to rely on that Triple A model of good gaming synonymous with big budget corporate funding. I firmly believe that we wouldn't have the great retro inspired games like Celeste and Dead Cells or the Kickstarter'd Yooka Laylee and Bloodstained or games that did both like Blasphemous if it wasn't for the hard-work and ingenuity that Yacht Club Games paved with Shovel Knight.

To use a popular Youtube cliché to conclude this list, “At the end of the day” I didn't make this list to put Game Informer or anyone's personal preferences down. If you believe that they got the Top 5 games of the decade right that's perfectly ok and valid too, to have as your opinion. I also want to reiterate that those five games – The Last of Us Part II, the Witcher 3, Red Dead Redemption 2, Zelda Breath of the Wild and God of War are all important to this generation coming to a close as well in their own way. While this list isn't my favorite games of the past generation, maybe I'll do that in the future, they are my subjective “best games list” of the past generation for what I think they did to the industry and you are free to agree, disagree, pick and choose between my list and Game Informers list or make a completely different list of your own. I'm personally excited to see what the future of gaming has for us in this coming generation and optimistic for what's both around the corner and late into the next systems' life-cycle. Happy gaming to you however you play.

Webpages noted: https://www.polygon.com/2020/9/17/21443683/nintendo-3ds-discontinued-lifetime-sales-hardware-software-units

https://www.fandom.com/articles/sonic-mania-just-nostalgia

https://www.theverge.com/2017/6/15/15807138/sony-playstation-cross-network-play-xbox-block-response

https://www.gamespot.com/articles/were-ready-microsoft-says-about-xbox-one-ps4-cross/1100-6438654/

https://www.rocketleague.com/news/full-cross-platform-play-now-live-in-rocket-league/

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/yachtclubgames/shovel-knight

https://www.gamasutra.com/blogs/DavidDAngelo/20140625/219383/Breaking_the_NES_for_Shovel_Knight.php

Games shown/referenced in the video:

The Last of Us Part 2

God of War

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Red Dead Redeption II

Witcher 3

PT / Silent Hill S

Sonic Mania

Rocket League

Blood Borne

Dark Souls III

Undertale

Shovel Knight

Shantae: Half Genie Hero

Cuphead

Celeste

Yooka Laylee

Mega Man 2

Ducktales

Castlevania

Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night

Blasphemous

Dead Cells

Resident Evil 7

Resident Evil 8

Moon

Layers of Fear

The Park

Death Stranding

Bonus Footage:

Xbox Series X reveal trailer

PS5 reveal trailer

Also note: I messed up in the original video and said the phrase, “X is like Dark Souls of” spiked in April of 2015 when I should have said first peaked in January to April of 2015. I noted it in the video but wanted to note it again, sorry.

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wordsinwinters · 5 years

Text

Then Again, Part 25 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 47,470

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 26,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 25:

(Words: 3,948)

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The thought of Peter making more of an effort, of him consciously choosing to pay me closer attention with the active intention of improving our friendship-- it isn’t the worst idea. If anything, it’s a rather attractive solution to a nonexistent problem. The suggestion alone is already prompting imaginary scenarios I refuse to acknowledge right now; though, inevitably, they’ll become daydream fuel within a couple days. Still, the whole plan is unnecessary, and I know it. I’m not angry with him anymore. I may have a few questions (some I plan on asking, some I’ll keep to myself), but if I do have any hidden resentment for his behavior stowed away in my subconscious, it’s as small and inconsequential as a handful of sand in the sea. Allowing him to carry this plan out would be using him. The pretenses would be false.

Even apart from that, though, his texts gave off an odd, metallic aftertaste. The proposal reads mechanically-- it’s a scientific study with a simple hypothesis (and a reluctant dependent variable). It’s the idea of being a lab mouse, I think, that earns it the title the dumbest thing in my mind. It’s condescending. Even if tempting.

Then again, I know Peter. I understand he doesn’t actually view me as a test subject to analyze and discard after the results come in. We’re friends. He feels bad and tossed out a poorly worded solution because he thinks I’m secretly pissed at him. It’s only an idea he offered, one I have full power to reject.

Maybe I’m trying to dismiss it quickly because, if I’m being honest, I’m selfish. Selfishly, I want to say yes despite knowing the sort of negative message it would send to Peter. A small part of me is willing to let him feel worse so I can pretend his own guilty feelings are more significant than they really are. The possibility, the mirage just within reach, of balancing that tightrope between reality and fantasy with him is... alluring, to say the least.

And impossible. It would be wrong. Wouldn’t it? Of course it would be.

Like blades slicing fruit in a blender, my brain whips through these thoughts within seconds. Across on her bed, Michelle’s expression can only be described as disapproving or faintly disgusted as she too digests Peter’s idea. It’s the male stupidity is endless look we share when near particularly annoying men in public. It’s not often one we have to exchange in reference to the boys; their moronic moments tend to be entertaining rather than obnoxious, ignorant, or misogynistic.

She meets my eyes, and I wonder if my face gives anything away.

“That feels weird to me.”

The sentence is a verbal tiptoe forward, an almost-question probe.

“It did sound weird saying it out loud,” I agree.

“You know,” she says, her tone mildly serious as she sits up straighter. “You’re not obligated to say yes to everything because you don’t want to disappoint someone. Especially a boy. And especially if he’s trying to fix his dumb mistakes by pressuring you into something you’re not comfortable with.” She pauses, glancing at the ceiling and raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can make him come to his senses.”

Michelle tightens her fists and mimes three exaggerated punches. I imagine it, amused: Before the bite, Peter wouldn’t have stood a chance against her if she really meant it; now, he’d probably put his arms up to block her blows, minimally annoyed, and wait for her to tire herself out. I roll my eyes and can’t help mirroring her smile.

Nevertheless, her wording is….

The same question pops up for the millionth time.

Do I want her to know?

“It’s Peter, it’s not, like, ‘a boy,’” I say first, air quoting the last words. Maybe later, depending. But for now, I’ll avoid it. “And I’ll pass, but I appreciate the offer. I’m not uncomfortable and he isn’t being pushy or anything. I only meant that the…” nearly impersonal approach to our personal relationship? “the hyperconscious wording is weird. I wouldn’t turn down free snacks if the offer wasn’t described as a….” situation in which he views us as mere associates or abstract friends--

Again, I remind myself he probably doesn’t see it that way.

“Monitored social experiment with unequal power dynamics?” she offers.

That fits.

“Precisely.”

She snorts. Shaking her head, Michelle pauses for a few more seconds. Mentally chewing it all over again, her expression bounces from annoyance to curiosity to neutrality to annoyance again to what looks surprisingly close to compromise or understanding. In the meantime, I focus on watching her facial journey and not thinking.

In the tune of surrender, she sighs before she speaks.

“I’m sure he’s trying his best,” she says reluctantly, her hands opening outward like a shrug, “his best is just bad. If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to refuse and block them. But, as much as it pains me to admit, I think we both know him too well to think his motives are as stupid as his phrasing. If anything, he’s probably excited about his ‘new genius friendship plan.’”

Nodding, relief hums under my skin: I know she’s right. I mean, how many people would fight crime to protect countless strangers in their city, then turn around and have cold, detached views of their chosen, personal friends?

“That’s true,” I say. “I should probably text him back, then.”

She holds up a finger as I reach for my phone.

“Still,” she adds with a tone of subtle authority, “it’s up to you. I’m not saying you should say yes -- no obligations, remember? -- I just don’t think you need to worry that he isn’t trying or isn’t being genuine. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Michelle’s stare lasts a moment longer, her sincerity as visible and certain as the brown of her eyes. After a second or two, she sits back onto her pillows and relaxes, turning to face the t.v. once again, leaving me to work out my final decision on my own. As I allow myself to reiterate my own arguments in my head, the Cullen family discusses the mythology of half human, half vampire fetuses with Jacob.

It doesn’t take me long to reach a conclusion. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty tired, but the answer seems obvious, straightforward and simple in logic. I unlock my phone with the feeling Michelle knows exactly what I’m about to type. I begin to write the message I had settled on before: “I’ll think about it.” Simple and honest. And temporary.

But then something else pops into my brain, and, foolishly, I write that instead.

“What about you? Do you need new reasons to be around me?”

I send the text without a moment’s reflection. Rereading it, it sounds a little… coded, to say the least. Like a Freudian slip. Don’t overthink it. God, I hate Freud. But it does sound desperate. And awkward. Damn. It definitely does. It reminds me of the embarrassing things I used to post on social media in middle school, which I really shouldn’t think about either.

I only wondered if the idea should go both ways. Instead, the message sounds insecure... which I am, I suppose, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Bubbles appear on his side. I resist the urge to send a series of backpedaling messages. They disappear. Again. My self control dissipates and I quickly send the original one: I’ll think about it.

Unthinking, I pull the small keychain out of my pocket as I wait for his reply and massage the edge. Sticking the pointed corner into my thumbpad, I accidentally dig it in harder than intended. And I realize something.

The keychain was the first. The gifts or incentives or things.

A flat click of a nearby door closing snaps my attention. The boys’ room? Glancing up, I see flash of Edward pleading with Jacob on the t.v. screen, and to my left, a shadow stepping up to the door. A gap in the golden line of outside light.

For half a minute, nothing happens. Aside from Rosalie shouldering past Jacob as he walks in to speak to Bella. After that, when it does come, the sound is soft.

Knock. Knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

It’s Peter. Ned’s knocking pattern is shorter.

The sound jolts my heart rate a smidge, like a phantom defibrillator.

Michelle’s head rolls to one side to stare at the hallway, her shoulders slumped in an I’m giving up posture.

“That’s very obviously for you,” she says, pushing herself up and tossing the Twizzler bag on the nightstand, “so I’ll let you go deal with it. I think I’ll brush my teeth and get ready for bed.” She hops off the mattress, raises her arms, and stretches them from side to side. “You okay if we call it a night?”

“More than okay,” I say, standing up as well, the carpet cool under my toes. Once I speak to Peter, I’ll need to knock out. Otherwise my brain will spiral. And maybe, if all goes well, my dreams tonight will be better than staying up to snicker at this hilariously shitty movie. “But what if it is for you?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Tell them I’m gone. Missing, dead, whatever.” Michelle clamps her eyes shut and sticks her tongue out to mimic cartoonish death. Then she pops back to life with a fake warning glare. “So long as no one bothers me.”

She hits the off button on the remote, Jacob and Bella dissolving into nothing, and as she trudges to the bathroom, I slip the keychain and a keycard back into my pocket before copying her arm stretch to calm my buzzing nerves. Michelle salutes me before turning and closing the bathroom door. I walk to the hallway’s. The handle is cold to the touch.

I swing it open. As expected: Peter. The empty space surrounding him is relatively quiet, only muffled laughter and television sounds coming from rooms at the opposite end. The air smells like linens, cleaning supplies, and artificial lavender. This too is as expected: the typical, sanitary comfort of staying in a nice hotel at night. I tell myself it’s a calming environment.

Peter’s in his usual pajamas, an old beat up t-shirt and sweatpants, standing slightly to the left, hands clasped in front of him. His height drops a tiny bit at the sound of the door, like he was rocking from heel to toe a second ago, and as his eyes lift from the floor to meet mine, he smiles. A warm swooping sensation envelops my stomach.

“Hey! You answered.”

He almost sounds surprised. I make a face in response.

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

I mean this as a joke, a reference to the couple late nights he’s shown up at my door (window, really) to clean or patch himself up before going home. As he knows, I’m not in the habit of shutting him out.

Still, his head tilts and his eyebrows go up into an expression of, Well, you weren’t exactly answering me before. It isn’t a challenging or upset look. If anything, it’s almost flustered.

“Fair enough,” I concede, lukewarm guilt sticking in my throat. “I was thinking about it though, I promise, I just hadn’t decided for sure yet.”

He nods, fidgeting with his fingernails and momentarily glancing at the floor.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, looking back up. His ears redden. “I, uh, phrased it pretty moronically. Or at least that’s what Ned said.”

He takes a step or two back, closer to his door. It seems like an invitation to make the conversation more private, so I close mine and Michelle’s and step forward.

“All I meant,” he continues, his hands rolling over one another in gesture, “was that I thought it might be helpful if I did a few nice things for you when we get back. Not like I’m actually trying to condition you, like a, like a--”

“Dog?”

His hands halt and his face pinches into an expression that practically reads I am painfully aware of every mistake I have ever made and how the number continues to grow in marker across his forehead. His eyes retain a lightness though, the sort that suggests he’s able to laugh about it. He runs his right hand through his hair. Mine twinges.

“Exactly. I feel like that makes it seem kind of, um--”

“Bad?”

“Very bad,” he confirms, nodding. He takes a deeper breath, half smiling in an embarrassed, self pitying way. “I honestly forgot about that Pavlock stuff, I was just trying to use psych terms to make it sound more persuasive and, um, I don’t know, impressive?”

He shrugs and offers an I know I’m an idiot, but thank you for being patient smile. I bite my tongue against correcting Pavlov, which he seems incapable of pronouncing properly. Even when we studied for that exam, he only said it properly a handful of times, despite Michelle flicking bits of paper at him each time he said Pavlock.

I smile too, noting the irony. And I think of what she said: he’s trying his best, his best is just bad. It doesn’t seem so bad when he’s standing in front of me, though. If anything, it’s easy.

“You mean,” I begin to ask, more to tease than to clarify, “as opposed to the highly offensive and disagreeable, ‘Hey, I want to make up for being a jerk, so I’m going to stash some snacks for you in my locker’?”

He bites his lip as if it’ll keep his grin pinned down, though it doesn’t really. A blush spreads across his cheekbones and for a split second, he looks away to the other end of the hall. When he looks back, his smile falters, just a little. The vulnerability reminds me of his apology last night, when he thought I was sleeping.

“I was thinking maybe it’d be more than snacks?” he offers. “Like, I don’t know, I don’t really have it figured out yet, but hanging out a bit more? Movie nights or that sort of thing? Or if you have a lot of homework, we could study together and help each other stay focused?”

That last suggestion seems like an oxymoron. Study together to keep ourselves on track? It’s a laughable concept. Well, only if it’s--

“Just us?”

Peter freezes, his shoulders straightening slightly, his height rising a few millimeters.

That is the central question, though. Whether it’s a positive or negative point toward my decision, I can’t tell. All the same, it’s been ages since we last tried studying together, just the two of us. It works best with Michelle and Ned there as well, seeing as we tend to get distracted.

His eyes move quickly between mine as if he’s trying to read my thoughts before answering. He squints.

“Is that okay?” he asks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I understand if not, if it’s uncomfortable or--”

I shake my head, putting my hand on his arm to stop him, only realizing it when his eyes flicker to that hand.

“Of course not,” I say, removing it. “I mean, of course it’s okay. We’ve hung out without Ned and MJ tons of times before. It’s been a while but it’s no big deal. That’d be fine.”

“Okay, good!” he says, the tension in his body evaporating. “That’s great!”

His eyes have lit up. I imagine he’s relieved those two won’t be around the whole time to make fun of his movie choices or whatever he has planned. I try to hold a smile to reassure him and clear his doubts while internally pinching myself to remember to not think too much on this. There’s no need to dust off those old, useless daydreams of movie nights and falling asleep on his shoulder with his head atop mine and May lightly laying a blanket across us and all the rest. Absolutely no need. Shut it down.

He runs a hand through his hair, nodding in a way that’s usually accompanied by him saying cool, cool, cool, cool.

“Would Fridays be good for movie nights?”

I barely register the question before I answer it.

“Probably, sure. That should be alright.”

His smile widens and he shakes his head once and continues nodding.

“Perfect! We can have it at my place.”

I nod back, chest tightening as I process. At the same time, I beg my brain not to process. Just for a minute. But then, since I refuse to let them move forward, the gears in my head turn backward, thoughts reeling like a bicycle chain. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, we’re realizing the same thing:

“Wait,” he says carefully. “So you’re saying yes? Like, you’re cool with it? You want to try?”

God help me.

“I suppose so,” I say. At hearing my own answer, a different type of swooping feeling runs from my feet up. The looking over a high balcony type.

“And we’ll figure the rest out later?” he asks.

“Peter, really, if you’re still planning on the locker snacks, that’s more than enough.”

He laughs.

“Yeah, that’s what you think because you’re being lame. And limiting. And--”

“Leaving?”

It’s time, definitely. I’d forgotten how blinding Peter’s excitement and positivity can be without interference. Today has been full enough, I should end this now.

“That’s fair,” he says. “I think Ned rubbed off on me. All that obnoxious energy.”

He shakes his whole body as if ridding himself of said energy and I restrain myself from making a joke about his word choice. Instead, I nod and with an exasperated “Night, Peter,” and step back toward my room. He does the same, heading toward his. Just before he makes to use his keycard, he pivots back.

“Wait! I almost forgot.”

I turn around and he’s closer than before. Peter suddenly looks particularly nervous, his head angled to the side like a question, his hands fumbling over themselves. His cheeks are reddening again too, spreading from his cheeks to his hairline.

“Yeah?”

He steps forward to place himself directly in front of me. His eyes flit a quick path which his hands follow-- they reach out to touch my elbows before jumping up to my shoulders, settling there almost steadily before shooting a little higher to suddenly but gently hold my head. And then he leans over and firmly kisses my forehead. As he pulls away, one hand disappears and the other musses up my hair.

What is he--?

We both take a tiny step back. My pulse pounds as my thoughts blur into nothing but impressions of nonsensical, ridiculous questions my brain won’t dignify with clarity. Peter’s expression is halfway between an apology and.. a dare? His eyes are as wide as I know mine must be, but there’s something playing at his lips. For a second, it feels as though we’re balanced on a challenge neither of us is willing to answer.

The bubble of the moment pops as he shakes his head and gestures vaguely to his and Ned’s room, his floundering arm movements returning him to the strong appearance of embarrassment.

“May,” he blurts, “Aunt May threatened to, uh, um, well, that part’s not really important, if I didn’t pass that along with ‘all her love.’” The red in his face deepens. “Apparently she’s not too happy I didn’t do that last night too.”

Of course. It makes immediate sense. The memory rushes back. She told him to do that to all of us when she dropped us off at the bus that morning. I might laugh at my own stupid shock and poor memory but I can’t seem to manage it.

“Do you want me to get MJ too?” I ask, realizing May likely demanded that he make the rounds. Maybe this is what started that play fight between him and Ned tonight. Either Ned dodged it or made a joke about wishing May were there to do it herself.

It clicks together.

“What?” He looks lost, his head tilted to the side, brow knotted up. “What do you mean?”

“Unless, do you want me to pass it along from May?”

The realization hits across his face. He shakes his head rapidly.

“No, no, no, she’d probably kill me if I tried to do that to her. But, I mean, if you want to pass it along-- or just tell her to lie if May asks. She probably won’t, honestly, but, you know, just in case.”

His shrug and half smile are practically helpless. May ought to have more mercy on him. And me.

“Alright.” A grin breaks over my face in a way I don’t quite understand and can’t stop. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Right. Goodnight, then. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Peter.”

Rather than stepping back, as intended though, I rush forward. Involuntarily, or at least I’ll pretend, since it’s just as surprising to me as it is to him, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. Or try to. It happens too quickly to register fully, but I’m almost positive I knick the corner of his mouth? That would definitely be unintentional.

“ThatwasforMay,” I explain, stumbling backward. Seeming to sense it, Peter grabs my arm to steady me before I trip outright. He releases his grip and stares, stunned.

If I thought his eyes were wide earlier, it turns out they can open much wider. His pupils are comically blown open.

“What?” he asks, seeming concerned. “What was that? I, uh, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“That was, um, that was for May. You know, in exchange.”

That’s perfect. For the first time in a while, my brain saves me.

His face, though still flushed red, relaxes.

“You’ll see her tomorrow,” he points out. “Like, we’ll all see her at the same time. It’d be kind of pointless to pass that on, wouldn’t it?”

Shit. My brain is useless.

“Then, uh… keep it?”

His facial muscles twitch as if he’s glitching between a smile and bewilderment. Then a flint of mischief.

“Unless,” he says slowly, “you want me to pass it along to Ned?”

“And it’s official,” I say, resisting the urge to smack him. “Goodnight!”

He grins as near as he ever gets to a smirk (a term I associate too closely to ass-hattery to assign to him) and I turn to my room as he repeats it back.

We both step to our doors and open them. I glance back just in time to see him practically jump into his room with a speed that reminds me he’s a superhero, even if he’s an idiot. Filled with tangled emotions, I pause, listening or waiting or catching my breath. I only need a moment.

Behind his and Ned’s door, there’s a sudden crash, a sound like leaping bedsprings and something smashing, immediately followed by Peter groaning and Ned’s mocking laughter. Right before I go to my own room, I hear Peter’s exasperated voice: Shit! Dude, can you help me fix it?

The room is dark when I slip back inside but the alarm clock shines enough red to see vague outlines of the walls and dressers and beds. Legs slightly numb, I stumble my way to the small bathroom to get ready for bed. It only takes a couple minutes, distracted as I am.

I slip into the blankets of my bed. The warm body heat next to me can only mean one thing: Michelle.

It’s just one of those unspoken things.

Next update: God only knows.

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writingforthethinkers · 5 years

Text

Dust - Part 3

Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader

Word Count: 3690 (Yeah, I know, sorry, but it wouldn’t have worked if I split it to more than one part)

Warning: grief, endgame spoilers, injuries, angst to the max

Summary: A continuation of my fanfic of Infinity War, set in the plot of Endgame.

A/N: Before I begin, I just wanted to let everyone know who is reading this that I wasn’t happy with Endgame. The treatment of female, LGBT and POC representation was appalling and in 2019 you would expect us to be a lot further along than we are now. The ending of Game of Thrones also had the same problems, showing just how poorly women, LGBT and POC are treated in media. I don’t really know how I would have changed Endgame here to better represent people without changing the whole movie, but I hope by having a female character - who by all means can be a person of colour or LGBT, I make sure to leave it as unspecific as possible so you can put yourself into (Y/N) - having a bit more agency and involvement in the plot will let you know that we do deserve representation, and it is not okay that we are not getting it. Also, Nat deserved better, so I’m giving her better. Hope you enjoy it.

Dust, Part 2

I give no warning before hand when I arrive at the Avengers compound, sitting in the backseat of one of my dad’s old cars he wired to be able to drive itself. Pepper offered to drive me, but I wanted to come alone. This was something I wanted to keep my mom and Morgan far away from. I’d also managed to fill the car with holograms and projections of various ideas for a time machine. Jumping between them all, I pulled different aspects from each that I thought were most likely to work, trying to combine them into something that would give us the best possible chance to bring them all back.

My heart leaps in my chest. I try my best to disassociate what I’m planning and building from the implications of what it could mean. The thought of my dad and Peter gives me so much hope that I feel fear churning in my stomach, an emotion that throws me so much I can barely think straight. So, I refocus on the holograms.

“Miss Stark,” the robotic voice of the car pulls me from my thoughts, “we are here.”

Looking up towards the doors of the compound I see Nat and Steve already rushing out and making their way towards the car. With a deep intake of breathe that falls between a sigh and a shaky gasp, I close all the holograms and open the car door, stepping out.

They both look confused, but hopeful. Steve has a glint in his eyes that suggests he knows what I’m about to say while Nat’s lips are curved up ever so slightly, you would have to know her personally for a long time to be able to notice it. They don’t say anything, waiting for me to say why I’m on their doorstep. I sigh again, thinking about my dad and Peter, my mom and Morgan.

“I’m in.”

Steve and Nat’s faces crack into smiles, and I cannot resist the urge to let my face do the same.

---

I’ll admit, I really was hoping I’d get through the whole time travel plan without having to feel much. I was hoping it would be all serious and down-to-business, like the good ‘ol days when I went on missions to an icy tundra to take down a baddie with my second family of superheroes and it would end with us all going home for takeout. This mission did not end up like that. I had agreed to join Steve to go back for the Tesseract, which meant going back to the attack on New York and Thor’s chaotic brother.

Seeing my dad again, years younger and still alive, I wanted nothing more than to just give up. Grab him and drag him back to the present with me. It wouldn’t take long to catch him up. Then I thought of Peter, his laugh echoing in my head and his smile painted like a mural in my mind. The other half of the population also rushed to the forefront of my mind, the smiling faces on missing person posters from when Thanos first snapped his fingers plastered in front of my eyes.

We’re the Avengers, there is no giving up. Quickly wiping my tears, we managed to get the tesseract without any hiccups.

But seeing my dad again wasn’t the end of the heartbreak. Returning to the present and watching Clint fall to his knees as he returned alone felt like my lungs were about to collapse in on themselves.

“There must be some way to bring her back.” I hear a voice reason, but they sound a million miles away as my hearing muffles and my vision blurs with tears. All I can think about is how I’ve lost someone else. Another part of my family gone.

“It was her life as a trade for the soul stone.” Another voice says, sorrow matching how I feel. “It was the only way.”

Then my mind starts to whir as the cogs turn and I take in a deep breathe. Wiping my eyes, I manage to pull myself together enough to think straight.

“We can get her back,” I say, and all eyes turn to me. “In the same way we got the stones.”

Most of the people before me look confused, some go to object, but I cut them off.

“I know we have to return the stones to the exact spot we took them from. But couldn’t we do the same with Nat? We only have to make sure she returns to that point in time to sacrifice herself to get the soul stone. But who’s to say she can’t live her life before then?”

Faces of confusion change to understanding. Bruce almost looks like he is going to smile.

“So, we go back and get Nat, bringing her to the present like we did the stones. She gets to keep living, and only has to return to that time before she dies,” Bruce reiterates, taking a moment to think it through “that could work.”

“It would be risky, and she would probably have to give up being an Avenger. But if any of us deserve to retire, it’s Nat. Especially after this.” I state.

“Then let’s go,” Clint says, already getting to his feet and moving to put his helmet on again.

“Wait,” I stop him, “we should wait until we’ve reversed everything. If something goes wrong and it puts her in danger – because we all know she would be there fighting alongside us – we could put the future in jeopardy.”

There is a round of nods and mumbles of agreement. A feeling of determination rises in the air.

“Then let’s reverse everything.”

---

Sometimes I hate being right all the time. Not bringing Nat back there and then was definitely the right choice, seeming as, as soon as Bruce snapped his fingers while wearing the gauntlet, supposedly bring back the other half of the universe, the compound promptly exploded. In all the confusion, I managed to make it up through the rubble and was met with the bane of my life. The looks on Steve and Thor’s faces as they joined me amongst the remains of the compound seemed justification that Thanos was also the bane of their lives.

Pushing the manic thought of how the other half of the universe was mostly likely alive again – dad, Peter, I turned my attention to the titan that wanted to take it all away from me. Again. Memories of a blade slicing through my dad’s stomach, of him and Peter turning to dust in my arms. Anger boiled in my blood.

I barely registered most of the fight. At one point I’m pretty sure Steve had Thor’s hammer, but I was so blind with anger and pain and loss and heartbreak that all I could focus on was blasting Thanos to high hell. The warning signs my suit flashed in my face as I took hit after hit, dealing him my fair share too, only proved to annoy me. Eventually, I took my helmet off. The frenzy had died down and I appeared to be the only one standing apart from Thanos. Pain crept through my body, but I ignored it. I felt Steve struggle to his feet next to me.

Thanos takes this time to monologue, and I watch as his army comes to join him. I don’t really know what is happening. I don’t know where the other half of the universe is, if Bruce’s use of the gauntlet even brought them back. I don’t know if mom and Morgan will be safe after this, I don’t know if I’ve ended what little happiness we had. I don’t know how this is going to end, or how I’m going to die.

But I do know I’m not going down without taking as many of Thanos’ army – if not the mad titan himself – down with me.

I glance at Steve. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes seem to be projecting the same thing. He grips what is left of his shield and I clench my fists, feeling the energy charging through my suit.

A voice crackling through the intercoms in our ears makes us pause. At first, the words are impossible to make out, but soon we understand them.

“On your left.”

As if on que, the sound of a portal pulls our attention to behind us. I can already feel a grin clawing at my face when I realise the voice is Sam’s, but triumph courses through me when the portal opens enough for three figures to step through it. Okoye, T’Challa and Shuri. The latter decides now is the time for a wiggle of her eyebrows and confident wink. I actually laugh at the surreal cockiness of my friend.

My friend, I think. Living and breathing.

It doesn’t end there. The sound of other portals surrounds us, and I turn completely to watch, ignoring Thanos entirely. Some are massive, allowing whole armies to pass through them, while others are smaller with only a few figures emerging. One in particular catches my eyes. Doctor Strange comes through first, followed by the Guardians and then two more people.

I feel like my heart is going to explode. Peter swings through the portal, landing on a large slab of rock. My dad just walks out, his suit fully on but he quickly loses the helmet, looking directly at me.

‘I love you,’ he mouths, the words clear as day on his lips from the amount of times I’ve remembered him saying them to me.

All I can do is smile in disbelief, feeling tears cut their way through the dirt and dust on my face. Steve’s words stop me from running to them, reminding me of where we are.

“Avengers,” he shouts, making me tear my eyes from my dad and Peter and turn back to Thanos, putting the helmet of my suit back on. Steve finishes the phrase in a chilling whisper. “Assemble.”

And we attack. United, it is clear Thanos doesn’t stand a chance.

I attack with the same ruthlessness I did before the portals opened, but this time it is spurred not by the determination of a last stand, but the strength of winning a final battle. Unfortunately, my injuries from fighting Thanos one on one come back to haunt me, making my movements slower and I make more mistakes. I’m soon backed into a corner against the remains of a wall, surrounded by Thanos’ soldiers. My suit screams at me to get myself away, but I cannot escape, and for the first time since the battle began I feel a surge of panic.

Then the soldiers are attacked from two sides – one attacker closer than the other – and soon they are all gone. The helmet of my suit comes down again so I can breathe as I slump to the floor, deciding I deserve a few seconds of time out.

“(Y/N), are you alright?”

“Mom?” I look up to see Pepper, heading towards me, crouching down next to me and taking my face in her hands. Her eyes are filled with concern, but it is difficult to register as I try to figure out how she is here. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I supported you, didn’t I? How was I supposed to do that from back home?” She tucks some of my hair behind my ear, her other hand still cupping my face.

“Who’s babysitting Morgan?”

“Who’s Morgan?”

Both mine and my mom’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates at the voice. We scramble to our feet, but we are almost knocked to the ground again at the sight of my dad.

“Tony,” my mom whispers, before running to him. They meet in the tightest hug possible for two people wearing big metal suits, eyes already watering with tears. They’re both mumbling loving words to each other, and all I can do is stand there watching.

“You coming in for a hug too, kid?”

He doesn’t need to ask me again as I sprint towards them, letting them engulf me in a joint hug that I have waited so long for. I bury my face in my dad’s neck.

“I missed you,” I tell him, the taste of my own tears on my lips.

“I missed you too,” Tony replies, hand moving to the back of my head.

The three of us stay in that hug for longer than we should while in the midst of the biggest battle of the universe, but Thanos himself couldn’t have pried me from my parents’ arms then. It was my dad who eventually ended the hug. Pulling back, he looked between me and my mom.

“So, are you going to tell me who Morgan is? Is she the new dog or gerbil?”

My mom laughs, moving her hand up to my dad’s face.

“She’s your daughter.”

My dad’s face splits into a grin, and he looks to me for confirmation. I just nod, realising there is not a single difference between my dad’s grin and Morgan’s. I’m almost about to pull up a photo of her with my suit to show him when we’re interrupted.

“(Y/N)!” The sound of a person landing is heard from behind me, and my name on their lips is the greatest sound I’ve ever heard.

“Peter!” I shout, sprinting at him the same way I did to my dad seconds before, only this time I manage to take Peter to the ground with this hug. He pulls me close, arms tight around my body. He’s rambling in the same way he always used to, telling me about how he woke up and came through the portal.

I don’t really register his words, pulling back to look at his face, taking in every feature I’ve only been able to imagine for the past five years. I faintly make the connection that we’re in the same position we were when he died, but it doesn’t affect me as I cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face as close to mine as I can. Peter responds in kind, hands cupping my face as he relaxes into the kiss. We pull apart with slightly swollen lips and dopey grins.

“That was nice,” Peter sighs.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” I tell him, about to lean in for another.

“Would you mind waiting a little longer? It appears we’re still in the midst of a battle.” My dad interrupts us before we can kiss again, Peter’s cheeks becoming a strong pink as I feel heat rise to mine. We’re quick to get back to our feet, but still stay close.

“Right, yeah, it can wait,” I reply, getting myself ready to carry on fighting, “only been five years, but sure I can go a little longer. No biggie.”

We all just stand there smiling at each other for a moment before being rudely interrupted by some of Thanos’ soldiers and we’re back in the action again. Continuing to fight, I manage to stay close to all three of them to some extent, as we all make sure we have each other’s backs in some way. The fight continues for a little longer, until somehow it is me, my dad and a few other Avengers up against Thanos. Somehow the titan manages to overpower most of us, despite losing the gauntlet. I try to make my way towards it, but that only results in me being thrown far out of the way, slamming into a large chunk of rubble that manages to wind me despite the suit. However, it gives my dad a window to get close to the gauntlet.

I can only watch as he hovers over it, looking up at Strange who holds up one finger. It takes me a moment to work out what he means. One in fourteen million.

No.

Iron Man and Thanos both jump for the gauntlet. From where I am slumped, unable to move as my suit desperately tries to mend both itself and me, I don’t see who manages to get it. They fight, close combat, and I remember the last time that happened. I was in the exact same position; paralysed and unable to help. They eventually break apart, the gauntlet on Thanos’ hand. He looks triumphant, but I can see what he is missing.

“I am inevitable.” He snaps his fingers, expecting to win but receiving nothing.

I look at my dad, stumbling to his feet, the hand of his suit bejewelled with the infinity stones. He turns his hand, so they are in plain view of Thanos and utters one final famous phrase.

“I am Iron Man.”

And he snaps.

The battle comes to a sudden end. We all watch as Thanos’ army turns to dust, the titan soon following them. My suit manages to stop screaming at me and I scramble out of it, leaving it beaten and broken behind as I stumble to where my dad lies. Everyone else isn’t far behind.

“Dad,” I cry out, already at his side. He doesn’t answer, just looks into my eyes. I hold his gaze, trying desperately to ignore his mutilated arm. I soon feel my mom and others join me. I can hear Peter breaking down, and the sorrow of everyone surrounds me. My dad is going to die right in front of me. Again.

My mom tries to hold me as she speaks to him, assuring him how everything is okay. I barely feel anything, leaning into her slightly as my eyes drift to his hand, the infinity stones still sitting in the burnt remains of his suit. One last stupid, reckless idea springs to my mind through all of the grief. I may not be allowed to live out my life with my dad, but Morgan deserves to know him. As Pepper leans in to kiss his cheek, I take my opportunity to pry one of the stones off Tony’s hand. The purple hue almost speaks to me, telling me what to do.

Admittedly, plunging it into my chest to wield as much of its power as I could was probably not the best idea, but I could already feel it tearing my hand apart so making it as much a part of myself as possible seemed the best option. I hear voices cry out my name, but I ignore them, pushing through the immense pain and focusing solely on my dad. I put every ounce of my being into reversing his pain, healing him.

I lose consciousness before I know if I was successful or not.

---

The beeping of a monitor in time with a heartbeat is the first thing I notice. It takes me a little while to work out it is my heartbeat. Slowly opening my eyes, I find I’m lying in my own bed. An IV drip is connected to my arm and my desk is littered with ‘get well soon’ cards and large bouquets of flowers.

What I don’t understand most about the situation is I feel completely fine. Sitting up, my condition doesn’t change, so I pull off everything attached to me and get up, making my way towards the door. I hear murmurs of voices that sound like they’re coming from downstairs. Slowly making my way out I walk towards the stairs, soon discovering that pretty much everyone I know is in my living room.

Morgan is the first to notice me as I’m halfway down the stairs. She gasps, making everyone look at her, before sprinting towards me. I catch her at the bottom of the stairs, picking her up and hugging her close to me. The last thing I remember is intense pain and the destruction of a battle, so it is a nice change to be suddenly back in my own home with my little sister.

And the world and his brother. I’m soon engulfed by people, asking me questions and saying my name, but most keep their distance. Except for my parents, who hover around me like I’ll break at any moment and Peter who is the only person to treat me normally, running to give me a hug just like Morgan.

“Hey, okay, listen. I’m fine! What’s going on?” I ask, and everyone quietens down. “What?”

“Look down.” My dad instructs as he nods at my chest. I’m overjoyed to seem him perfectly fine, and with a confused look I do as he says.

“Oh.” A purple light shines from underneath the fabric of my t-shirt. I pull the shirt down enough so I can see what it is, finding out it’s the infinity stone I pried from the others embedded in my skin. “What the…”

“You should be dead,” my dad states bluntly, earning him a nudge from my mom, “but I think the stone is keeping you alive.”

I begin to notice the tingling of power in my fingertips. Maybe it is giving me more than just a second chance to live. I don’t mention it to anyone.

“But if the stone is keeping me alive, how do we return it to where we took it from?”

“Looks like you’ll have to do the same as me.” Nat emerges from the group of people still surrounding me, and despite what she just said I run at her with a grin on my face and pull her into a tight hug.

“So be it,” I reply, “I’m alive. We all are.”

Looking around, I smile at the faces of everyone I know. The people we brought back, the people who survived. I look to my family, Pepper’s arm around Tony’s waist while Morgan sits grinning in her father’s arms. I look to Peter with his warm eyes and charming smile. I imagine kissing him again and again once everyone gets out of my house. The idea of living a normal life with everyone I love thrills me to the core.

“We won,” I state, relishing in the feeling.

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #endgame #avengers endgame #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #peter parker x stark!reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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ladyideal · 4 years

Text

The Teaching Cruise (Prologue)

Word Count: 4023

A/n: So this is just the start of a series. It’s mostly going to be a Leonard McCoy x Reader, but working with the whole team together really. So just want to credit @cuddlememerrick for suggesting that Jim becomes Head of Security if he wasn’t Captain, and I rolled with that. I’m not sure how long this will be, but I’m aiming for at least 10 chapters.

It all happened just two weeks ago.

Starfleet Command ordered the Enterprise back home, and crew could get about three days of shore leave. You didn’t ask for the explanation behind why a shortened shore leave, but you certainly weren’t going to look at a gift horse by its mouth. Oh no, no no. It was already a wonderful surprise to be called back home for just a few days, and you knew the crew earned it.

You weren’t suspicious until it was too late.

“Understood, Admiral,” You saluted. “Y/L/N out.”

You sat back down in your chair, and placed your head in your hands for a bit. You should have known that the Admirals would try this on you. This was the Enterprise for heaven’s sake, the damn flagship of the Fleet that you’d worked so hard to achieve.

With a labored sigh and a shake of your head, you grabbed your comm on the way out of your ready room, and headed back towards the Bridge. This was going to be a nightmare.

Plopping back into your command chair, you placed a finger on your temple as you rolled the hour’s worth of conversation with the Rear Admiral. You glanced up at the chrom, and frowned again as it read a little over five in the afternoon. It was an hour into Beta shift and most of your senior staff crew were off duty and in their respective offices, save for Scotty probably.

Not much choice for you really.

“Ensign Mille, open up a ship wide channel for me,” You turned towards the officer in charge of communications.

“Aye, Captain, She replied, pulling around the switches. “Channel open, ma’m.”

“Attention all crew members, this is your Captain speaking. In about two hours, we will be entering the Alpha Quadrant, and be docking on Spacedock in approximately 24 hours for the three day shore leave on Earth. All senior staff to my ready room in fifteen minutes. Y/L/N out.”

A slight happy buzz started amongst the other bridge crew members.

“I’ll be at my quarters. Comm me if anything happens.” Your ordered, departing back to your room to quickly freshen up.

You really weren’t going to do much really, other than throw a temper tantrum that you weren’t allowed to have in front of the Admiralty. Entering your quarters, you told the computer to set a fifteen minute alarm, quickly shucked your early morning coffee spill stain shirt, threw it in the hamper, and headed to the bathroom.

You washed your face first before doing the same to your arms and hands. It was good to be moving around honestly, sitting down for too long of a period made you sleepy. As Captain, you couldn’t afford sleeping on the job. When you were done, you’d replicated another mug of coffee and a snack to go with it. Leonard wasn’t going to be happy if he knew that you’d skipped lunch again, in favor of being on time to the meeting.

Throwing on a new shirt, the computer reminded that your fifteen minutes was up.

“Too fast,” You muttered to yourself, grabbing both the snack and the mug of coffee on your way out to your ready room.

Entering your ready room, you glanced around at the occupants sitting around the conference table. It seemed like you were the last to enter since everyone’s faces turned to your direction. Scotty, Nyota, Jim, Spock, and Leonard all watched as you set your comm down on the table, and grabbed your PADD.

“Darlin’, what’s this all about?” Leonard was the first to speak about, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Nothing that anyone’s gonna be happy about,” You answered dryly, taking a sip of your heavenly coffee.

“Did Command cancel our shore leave?”

“They cannae take our leave!”

“Is our performance not satisfactory?”

“Did the Admirals demote us all?”

“For god’s sake, Jim, let her talk.”

Everyone but Spock had spoken up in an attempt to figure out what was going on. It wasn’t until Leonard shushed Jim that everyone turned to you expectantly.

You leaned against the bulkhead, looking rather displeased. “I’ve called you all up here, because our orders have slightly changed.” You paused, but seeing that Jim had opened his mouth to speak, you continued onwards. “And no, Jim, we didn’t get demoted. We all still have our jobs.”

“You’re killing us here, sweetheart,” Leonard groaned dramatically.

You grinned inwardly. Trust Leonard to be the dramatic one as usual.

“Command has ordered us to take up some new crew,” You started.

“Well that’s not bad,” Jim interrupted, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I wasn’t done, Jim,” You frowned at him. “Not just some regular old crew, I’m afraid. The next three days, the Academy will select the current graduating cadets into three ships for a three month long training exercise. Commandant was adamant in having us a part in this, since we were the flagship of the ‘Fleet, saying that the cadets needed to have some hands on experience. After three months, we drop them off at Yorktown. They take their finals, and have the chance to stay with us as permanent crew or at another posting.”

It was silent in the room. Looking around, you saw plenty of surprised faces, exasperation from Leonard, and an eyebrow raised from Spock.

“Are you out of your corn fed mind?” Leonard exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, and started pacing back and forth.

No one batted an eye at the outburst. It had been such a recurring phrase that many were already used to, and even expected the doctor to say. You briefly wondered if the bridge could hear it.

There was another moment before Spock spoke up. “How many should we expect, Captain?”

You shot him a grateful look. “Top 100 of the class would be selected between us, the Defiant, and the Valiant. So that gives us around thirty or so cadets for each ship.”

Leonard paused his pacing for a moment.

“Did you tell them we’re not a training vessel?”

“Yes.”

“Are the Admirals alright with us going out of the Alpha quadrant with them on board?”

“Yes,” You started peeling your orange. "Encouraged us to really."

"Did you tell them that we aren't babysitters?"

"Tried to."

“Did they sign their waivers?”

“Yes, it’ll be sent to everyone’s PADDs in a moment.”

“Did you tell them that the Proctor or the Reliant would be a better ship for the newbies to train on?”

“Yes, Leonard.”

Leonard grumbled wordlessly under his breath, and continued pacing.

“Between six departments, that would make five cadets for us all,” Nyota spoke.

“New engineering cadets are just as bad as new medical ones, McCoy,” Scotty mentioned.

“So the shore leave for us will most likely be cut down to about one day,” You explained.

“Shouldn’t it be two?” Jim spoke.

You said nothing again, as Leonard groaned from the back of the room. “What more bad news do we have?” He was one to always loudly voice his displeasure.

“Command wants us to do a job fair sort of thing for the entire second day. Each department will need a couple volunteers to stay on board to introduce what it’s like working on the ship, and work some extra hours for Alpha and around half of Beta,” You grimaced. “And before you ask again, Len, yes. They’ve signed the waivers too.”

Everyone in the room, but Jim looked irritated.

“Have to have exposure somehow,” He shrugged. “What better way but the Enterprise.”

“Jim,” You groaned out, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face. “You know that’s not the point.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

After a couple more minutes of discussion, you dismissed the team. Once most of the staff had left, you turned back to find a lingering Leonard.

“Hon, look at it on the bright side. We can still have two days with Joanna as she could come during the job fair, and see how it all unfolds on her dad’s ship,” You consoled him, placing a hand on his arm.

“If you say so, sweetheart.”

“Stop worrying, darlin’,” Leonard spoke. “She’s gonna love you.”

“She’s your kid,” You emphasized, rubbing your sweaty palm against your jeans. “I’m more worried about what Jocelyn might have said to her.”

“I wouldn’t put past it that Joce would have said anything about you to her,” Leonard shrugged. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

You nodded, taking in the view of the many tiered city in front of you. Glass ceilings lined from floor to ceiling, and the view was spectacular. When your comm chirped, you frowned down at the incoming messages from Spock. Although you were supposed to have gone with your first officer to be debriefed with by the Admirals, the Vulcan had placed it on himself to represent both him and yourself.

You excused yourself, and made a call back to Spock.

“Dad?”

You watched as a young woman walked briskly towards Leonard. Almost giddy as a child, your boyfriend dropped the duffel bags he was carrying, and swept his daughter into a crushing hug. You smiled as you listened to Spock reiterate what was said during the meeting.

After a couple minutes, Leonard let go of his daughter and took a step back to look her up and down.

You grunted in assent to one of his questions, but fired another back. “Did you mention that we found the two new solar systems over in the Delta Quadrant?”

As your second in command explained, you observed Joanna. She was beautiful, tall, and definitely held herself up confidently. She had Leonard’s dark hair, and almost as blue as Jim’s eyes were. Those must have been from Joce.

Leonard suddenly turned towards you, extending one of his hands. However, you smiled apologetically and stepped forward. Joanna offered you her hand, but instead you pulled her into an one arm hug. She was Leonard’s kid, which meant that she was family. Family hugged one another, not shake hands.

“Dad, Y/N, I made lunch reservations over at some cafe,” Joanna spoke, falling to Leonard’s left.

“That’s perfect, Jo. We’re starving for some real food,” Your boyfriend spoke. “Can we stop by the Academy first?”

“Can I come with y’all?”

“Of course.”

“Okay well, there’s nothing I can add to that Spock. You should get going with Nyota, not much free time to spend here before we’re all back on the ship. So I’ll see you tomorrow at 9 in the morning,” You shook your head to Spock’s words, and finally dropped the call. “Sorry about that.”

“You must be Y/N, dad has spoken a lot about you,” Joanna smiled.

“Hopefully all good things,” You glanced briefly at your boyfriend.

“All good things, I assure you,” She replied. “What’s it like being Captain?”

“Busy as hell. Mountains of report to read, and people with half a brain running around the ship half the time,” You shrugged. “A lot of meetings with Command, bossy Admirals.”

Joanna giggled. ”It must be a lot. I wouldn’t know if I would be able to multitask like that all the time.”

“It’s an art,” You grinned, stopping in front of the doorway to the barracks,

Once your bags were safely deposited in yours and Leonard’s shared room, the three of you made your way towards the cafe. For the meantime, you walked behind your boyfriend and his daughter, letting the two of them catch up in peace. It was wonderful seeing Leonard so happy, a complete 180 flip of his usual grumpiness when up in space. Here, he was relaxed, and was able to directly speak face to face with his daughter.

After ordering your food and a glass of red wine, you leaned against your seat to listen to Joanna explain where she was applying to for her colleges.

“And have I mentioned that I applied to Starfleet too?” Leonard’s daughter continued. “I want to continue into biochemistry and hopefully work as a nurse someday.”

“And in the same medbay as your old man?” You teased. “That would finally shut his groaning and moaning up.”

Leonard groaned good naturedly at your ribbing. “I have a reputation to uphold, Y/N.”

“I would love to work on the Enterprise with him,” Joanna laughed, enjoying the banter.

You and Leonard spent the rest of the day with Joanna, walking along the pier. You only stopped every now and then to buy water or ice cream. All three of you sat together after a long day of walking around the bay area, going window shopping, and finally having dinner not far from HQ.

“You’re coming to the job fair tomorrow, right?” You looked over at her.

“Yes,” Joanna nodded. “I want to come in early, and stay the entire time on the ship if that’s alright.”

“Of course, Jo,” Leonard answered for you quickly.

“I’ve actually got a present for you,” You rummaged around your purse.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Y/N,” Leonard’s daughter shook her head quickly, but fell quiet as you extracted a flat, rectangular shape box out.

“I'm afraid it’s not much, but I thought it would be neat if you got to know what it’s like up there,” You spoke, handing it over to you. Leonard tried catching your eye, but you avoided him.

“Wow, thank you,” Joanna spoke, meticulously unwrapping the gift wrap. She carefully unpeeled the tape, painstakingly not wanting to damage what was inside. There was no doubt that she was definitely Leonard's daughter.

You chuckled. “Oh, just rip it. It’d be so much faster that way.”

Both father and daughter laughed at your impatience. Listening to your advice, she tore into the wrapping to reveal a simple black photo book with gold trimming.

“Wow,” She marveled, delicately running her fingers alongside the smooth surface.

You flashed a grin at Leonard, who only smiled warmly back at you.

Attentively, she opened the book, revealing the photos you had taken of every new solar system, every planet, couple photos of new flora and fauna, the day to day workings within the ship, a few photos of the medbay, and a couple photos of her father looking grumpy among the background with a medkit slung across his shoulder. Lastly, a rare photo of Leonard mid dance in the middle of his medbay with Christine and a patient looking bewilderedly at him.

“Hey, wait! I told you not to take that photo,” Leonard had leaned over to take a good look at the photos for himself. “That’s not fair.”

You shrugged. “Too late, I thought it would be a good addition to see her dad goofing off in his own medbay.”

Joanna laughed, curiously flipping through the photos. “Thank you so so much, Y/N. I love this!”

“You’re very welcome. It’s all yours now, and hopefully one day, you can bend your old man’s ear with questions of each one,” You grinned, chuckling.

Leonard scowled for a moment, but joined in the laughter at the end.

“One day off, and we’re already back at the ship,” You grumbled to yourself, sipping your coffee as you stared up at the chrom. It was barely 10:00 in the morning, and you weren’t fortunate enough to sleep in either. It was still business at 8:00 sharp, mull around, and make sure everyone from Engineering all the way up to the Bridge was ready for the onslaught.

“B’enol to the Bridge.”

“Y/L/N here,” You mumbled, swinging around in your chair in the middle of a half empty Bridge.

“Captain, the first round of visitors have arrived at the cargo bay,” Your yeoman spoke, voice barely above the loud chattering behind. .

“Work your way up,” You shrugged.

Honestly, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought. When the groups reached the Bridge, all they mostly did was marvel at the view of the space from up above. Some parents asked questions that you were all too happy to answer them. You’d even spotted Joanna within the gaggle, giving you a smile as she approached.

“Morning, Joanna,” You smiled, watching as visitors took turns sitting in your command chair and taking photos. Sulu was thankfully up in the front, keeping an eye on those that stepped up to his console.

“You were right, Y/N,” Joanna grinned. “Dad is totally different when he’s back at work. Is he always this grumpy or is it only today?”

“That’s his usual attitude actually,” You smirked. “Drives almost everyone crazy. Did you happen to see Jim over at the brig?”

“Oh yes, I stayed over at dad’s office for the most part, but I think for the rest of the day I’ll probably spend some time over at Uncle Jim’s place. He told me he would teach me some special moves.” Joanna spoke. “Do you get to see this view all the time?”

“Yes, it’s quite spectacular, isn’t it?,” You turned your gaze back to the main screen. “Or as your dad would say, a deadly inky black void of death.”

“Sounds like him alright.”

Once Joanna left with the first group, you shook your head, leaning against the back of your chair. It was going to be one long day.

“Scotty to MedBay, I have one coming up with a broken finger. There is also a-.” Leonard’s and a few others comms chirped.

“Scotty!” You interrupted him, looking down at the bloody mess of your shirt. “Leonard, that’s it. Only one person is going up, no one else.”

The Chief Medical Officer groaned. “You and Scotty get your ass up here, or so help me, god.”

“Alright everyone, move to the edges and press together as close as possible. Stay out of the way of everyone,” Christine ordered, going around gathering supplies.

“Not even one day back and the Captain is injured again,” Leonard grumbled, as he went to call M’Benga out while Christine helped the injured engineer onto the nearest biobed.

“So what have we learned today here?” You winced, frowning down at the wires in front of you. Honestly, you were glad you came down to check on Engineering like you normally did. A bloody turbine laid not too far from where you and Scotty stood.

“That Doctor McCooy will murder me when he sees ye like this, lass,” Your Chief Engineer frowned down at the deep cut on his hand, when he tried to pick up the jagged pieces with his bare hand.

“That’s what you’ve learned?” You chuckled despite yourself, wincing again at the effort.

“Aye, let’s go to medbay,” Scotty placed an arm around your shoulder, supporting you. “The lads will clear it up, and have her ready tonight.”

“McCoy to Y/L/N.”

“What, Leonard?” You grumbled, walking out of the lift when the doors opened.

“For god’s sake women, where are you? Are you bleedin’ all over the damn ship?”

“Give us two minutes, Leonard.” You dropped the call immediately, and shook your head.

“Your boyfriend is gonnae kill me,” Scotty groaned dramatically from your left.

“No, he will probably flay you first, and then kill me when he sees how bad we both are,” you rolled your eyes. “It’ll be okay, Scotty, my god. This isn’t the first time that we both got injured like this.”

“Y/N, I’m too young to die,” your engineer continued as though he didn’t hear you.

“Start writing your will and testament then. I don’t have your updated one,” You shook your head again, crossing into medbay. Immediately, you’d noticed the group of visitors pressed tightly against one another along the edges of the wall.

“My god,” Leonard hurried over to your other side, supporting you till he was able to gently sit you down on a biobed. “What the hell happened down there?”

You groaned as a way of response, tentatively laying back when his hand gently pushed your shoulder.

“Laddie pressed the wrong button. Fan flew off, and sliced everyone in its way,” Scotty supplied the answer from the bed next to you, being tended by M’Benga.

Unceremoniously, Leonard pressed a hypo to your neck. As the medicine worked, you slowly drew a deeper breath, able to relax without being so much in pain.

“May I?” His fingers grasped the hem of your bloody shirt, and you nodded, squeezing your eyes shut.

Ever so gently, his gloved fingers hovered just above the deep laceration across your stomach. He tsked irritably, and you knew from experience that you were about to get an earful soon.

“Stitches?” You mumbled.

“Stitches.”

It wasn’t until Leonard was done with his laser sutures, and Christine started on handheld dermal regenerator did one of the visitors raised a hand. Weirdly enough, even your doctor didn’t lecture you just yet, probably because of the many pairs of eyes watching as everyone seamlessly worked together.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

“Does this happen all the time out in the black?” A parent spoke up.

Before you could open your mouth to answer, Leonard beat you to it. “Out there in space, the entire crew comes into constant contact with the unknown. Proper strict guidelines are put into place from Starfleet Medical, that all crew must obey, are there for this very reason. Work related injuries are far more common on a ship than on planetside, even more so when away missions are scheduled. Working in medical, you have to be constantly on your toes, and to be able to make a snap decision on the spot.”

“It doesn’t really matter where you work, small decisions could have the biggest impact,” You added, glancing down at the pale pink line across your torso. “On a ship, it could mean disastrous consequences, while on planetside, you might still have a lot of ways to right the wrong. It’s not pretty out there in space, but it’s all worth the risk and dangers.”

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Leonard growled when the crowd finally moved up towards the Bridge, and caught you sitting back up ready to leave.

“Back to the Bridge, Len,” You replied hopefully, until a firm pushed hand you back down again.

“Oh no, sweetheart, you’re stayin’ here until I say that you’re ready to leave my sight again.”

“Oh come on, Len, everything’s okay now,” You tried, but one glance at his hard gaze was enough to make you comply. He meant business. “Fine.”

When 6 at night finally rolled in were you finally allowed to be released. Even then, there wasn’t much to do except to dismiss the crew after a job well done with the job fair. Couple groups of visitors were allowed to tour the Enterprise, got a good view of what it was like working in all of the departments, and some even got the chance to have some hands on experience. It couldn’t have gone any better, except for maybe you and Scotty both not getting injured you supposed.

Next time, there was no way you would be doing this again.

“Hey kiddo, want to join me, Y/N, and Uncle Jim for dinner?” You and Leonard strode into Jim’s office.

Joanna was sprawled on Jim’s couch, but sat up immediately at the sounds of her father. “Sure, dad. Where to?”

“Nothing on the ship please,” You grumbled this time. “Want some actual food while we’re still docked here, and not something replicated.”

Jim laughed at your displeased voice, already hearing how you got injured just hours into arriving on the ship. “I saw a nice little hole in the wall place on the way to the shuttle this morning. Some say it isn’t bad. Want to go give it a try?”

“Sure, Jim,” Leonard answered, while you shrugged. As long as it was authentic food, you didn’t really care what was on the menu.

“Y/N, maybe you could tell us what really went down there with Scotty,” Jim added.

“Shut up, Jim,” You scowled, swatting at his shoulders. Instead of him doing what your ordered, everyone but you laughed.

Oh boy.

ST Tags: @mournthewicked (If you want to be tagged for this series or ST fics in general, please let me know)

#star trek aos #series #reader insert

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